“Yes, sir.” He pasted that angelic face on once again and murmured, “Sorry, Brona.”
Lilly knew that the agreement would last only until the next time he felt he could rub her the wrong way.
Cade gestured toward the seat next to him. “You’re looking a bit tired, colleen,” he said, his eyes alight with mischief. He knew there was no way she could chastise him for using the hated term in front of their new coworkers. “Sit down and tell us about your day.”
Lilly’s eyes narrowed, but she smiled as she took the chair. “I am a wee bit tired with the travelin’ and all. A proper bed will feel wonderful tonight.”
Before she knew what he was about to do, Cade leaned over, planted a kiss on her cheek, and said, “Indeed it will.”
The suggestive tone caught her off guard. She felt her shoulders straighten and shot him a pointed look, which no one at the table could miss.
Cade flashed his boxer’s smile at those sitting around the table. “She’s still a bit miffed at me for moving her away from her family, but ya have to go where the work is, right, Amos?”
“You’re right about that,” Cade’s coworker said. “I been real lucky. My family’s been workin’ for the Fontenots since I was about Robbie’s age. Even before the War, they never did have any slaves. They’re all good people. Fair. But things have been a lot different around here since Mr. Garrett passed and Miz Patricia married the doctor.”
“He seemed pleasant enough at dinner,” Lilly said with a shrug, hoping the innocence of her statement would elicit some information. “Though he and Madam seemed at odds over Sunday’s lawn party.”
“That’s been a sore spot ever since he said he wanted to have a party.” Lamartine gave a shake of her head. “She thinks it’s too soon since Miss Suzannah’s passing, and she’s right, but the doctor don’t care a whit for customs.”
“Who was Miss Suzannah?” Lilly asked, as if she had no knowledge of the family situation. She forked up a bite of potatoes.
“Miz Patricia’s younger daughter,” Bernard said, speaking up for the first time. “I miss her. She was always nice to me.”
“She passed a little more than four months ago,” Lamartine told them.
“That’s too bad,” Cade said. “Was she ill?”
“Weren’t sick at all,” Amos said. “They went to hear that Merrick woman speak about women gettin’ to vote. Miss Suzie got separated from her mama and sister in the crowd. They found her a couple of days later, dead.”
At a warning look from his wife, Amos left out just how Suzannah had died and what heinous things had been done to her prior to her death. That was not suppertime conversation with women and two children at the table.
“Miz Patricia was really torn up,” Lamartine said. “Losing her daughter so soon after her baby bein’ born dead was just too much for her mind to take, accordin’ to the doctor.”
“Oh, poor thing!” Lilly said, putting just the right amount of sorrow and empathy in her voice. “Bran and I know how painful losing a child can be.” She reached out and placed her hand on Cade’s arm in a gesture she hoped looked both tender and consoling.
He turned to her in surprise as she gave their new friends a morsel of their fabricated pasts. “We’ve lost a baby of our own.”
She was taken aback at the pain she saw on his face. She would love to know why the mention of a child’s death affected him so. The look was gone the next instant, and to her astonishment, he picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. He did not utter a word.
Even to Lilly, who knew it was an act, the gesture was poignant. Once again, she was amazed at his acting skills. He was quite, quite good at this. Pierce would have been proud to add him to their group of players.
“I’m sorry for that,” Lamartine told them, her eyes filled with sympathy. “But it’ll happen when the good Lord is ready for it to happen.”
“You’re right.” Cade released Lilly’s hand and went back to his meal.
Lamartine looked from one to the other and continued her tale. “Doctor was gonna put her in a mental hospital way out in the country somewhere, but Miz LaRee pitched a right proper fit. Said he was ashamed of her and that they’d never get to see her, so finally, the doctor put her in the city asylum, right here in N’Awlin’s.”
Lilly made a sympathetic sound and did her best not to let her disgust show. Troublesome female family members were often admitted to loathsome places for such nonsensical things as reading romance novels or being overly religious. She’d heard tales about the cruel and inhumane treatment common to most mental hospitals and how the difficult patients were restrained or drugged, just as Mrs. Fontenot had suggested.
“How is she doing? Patricia?”
“We haven’t heard nobody say,” Amos mused. “Doctor told everyone it’s best if no one goes to visit, so she won’t get all stirred up again.”
“Well, I think he’s wrong.”
Everyone turned to look at Robbie, surprised the child would have an opinion one way or the other.
“It ain’t right to just leave her there, is it?” He shot an irritated look at Cade. “She should have some visitors, so she’ll know she ain’t been forgot about, don’t ya think, Bran?”
“I think,” Cade said, pointing the tines of his fork at the boy, “that this conversation is for grownups. Children should be seen and not heard—remember?”
“Well, I agree with Robbie,” Lilly said.
After that, the conversation centered on all the work that would have to be accomplished the following day in order to have things ready for the Sunday lawn party. Even with temporary help coming to lend a hand, it sounded like an enormous amount to accomplish in a short time. How could she and her partners possibly do any snooping with so many tasks to complete?
* * *
Lilly stayed behind to help clean up the kitchen, and the men went out to check the horses once more before bedtime. By the time she opened the door to her room, Cade was already there, lying on his pallet in the floor, a sheet pulled to his waist. His chest was bare. The sight was disturbing, reminding her once more that her mother’s willful blood ran through her veins despite her constant efforts to keep it under control.
“You aren’t wearing anything . . . on top.”
“No, I’m not. I’m wearing my drawers, though, so never fear.”
There was no hiding the mockery in his voice or his eyes. Then, as if to underscore the words, he turned his back to her. “Go ahead and change,” he said. “I won’t look.”
“I never thought you would.”
His smile told her that he knew she was lying.
Lilly grabbed a long-sleeved gown from her bag and undressed in record time, fearful that he would not keep his word. The simple white gown had gathers that fell from a rounded yoke and was done up with tiny mother-of-pearl buttons. She was just fastening the last one when he said, “So what do you think of the Lagasses?”
Lilly settled herself in the center of the bed and pulled the covers up to her neck. “I think they’re very nice and Lamartine is a hard worker.”
Hearing that she was probably settled, Cade glanced over his shoulder and rolled over when he saw that she was secure in bed. “So are Amos and Bernard. Spending time with them will be good for Robbie. He needs a new path for his life. He’s been on his own way too much since he was seven or so.”
“What happened to his parents?” she asked, tugging the hairpins from her hair and allowing it to fall over her shoulders and past her breasts in a straight, silky swath of red.
He didn’t answer for a moment as he watched her swoop the hair to one side and start to braid it. Then he cleared his throat and said, “They left him in a cemetery, told him they were going to find something to eat and never came back. He’s been on his own ever since.”
Hearing of Robbie’s past, the child’s statement concerning Patricia Ducharme made perfect sense. Without a doubt, he was comparing their situations and had seen defi
nite similarities.
“How did the two of you meet?”
He regarded her steadily for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to share the information with her. Reaching some inner peace with the notion, he said, “For the record, I don’t normally share my personal life with my coworkers, but understanding the boy’s past might explain some of his actions. You might be able to give him a little more leeway when he gets . . . disrespectful.”
“Perhaps it would.”
He took a deep breath and began. “I sort of took Robbie under my wing more than a year ago, and we’ve been chums ever since. My family helps keep an eye on him.” His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “It would seem from this latest escapade that he’s grown a little attached to me.”
Lilly was itching to know how the two met, but doubted he’d tell her if she asked. Instead, she said, “I can’t imagine him fending for himself at that age. How did he survive?”
“By doing what he was doing when I spotted him on the boat. Picking pockets, stealing from the markets and begging. Going through the garbage that restaurants toss out.”
The thought of a seven-year-old roaming the streets of Chicago, alone in the stench and the filth and the darkness, never knowing where he’d lay his head for the night or where his next meal would come from was unthinkable to someone who’d been loved and fed and cared for. Lilly had a new appreciation for the life Pierce and Rose had given her. There but for fortune, she could have been another Robbie . . . with even worse options open to her.
She wondered how his parents had cared so little for him that they’d abandoned him to the horrible unknowns of the city. That fact had to be a heavy burden for him to carry. It was no wonder that he had a chip on his shoulder or that he’d grabbed hold of the first person to show him any concern. She felt her heart begin to soften.
“That’s terrible.”
Cade shrugged. “There are a lot of lads like him out there, and whatever you do, don’t let on like you know anything or change how you deal with him. He may not have any schooling, but he’s smart, that boy. He can spot a phony a mile away, and he won’t appreciate your pity.”
Cade had been one of those boys, she thought, remembering the bit he’d told her about his past and how the nuns had helped get him on the straight and narrow.
She tied a ribbon she’d taken from her bag around the tip of her braid. “I understand.” Knowing what was behind the boy’s actions would go a long way toward dealing with him in the right way.
“So what have we learned today?” Cade asked, resting his elbow on the pillow and his head in his hand.
Lilly wasn’t sure she wanted to share her thoughts with him. Still, they were supposed to be working together. Maybe if she gave him a crumb he’d be happy. There was no reason she should tell him everything.
“The doctor and Mrs. Fontenot don’t like each other much,” she told him instead. “And they quarreled during dinner over this party he insists on having.”
“Amos said they’ve been arguing about it for weeks. I think it would behoove us to keep an eye on what happens on Sunday. He also said that Cassandra and her husband are driving in from the plantation tomorrow. They’ll be here by lunchtime.”
Blast! It seemed that Amos was going to be a better source of information than Lamartine. Lilly hadn’t thought about Patricia’s older daughter coming, which meant two more family members to keep track of. She’d planned on watching Henri with an eagle eye, weigh every move he made and find out what she could about everyone he spoke to, and now her attention would be even more scattered. Maybe William was right and this was one assignment that needed more than one set of eyes. Maybe she was a bit too eager to be off on her own after all.
CHAPTER 8
Cade dressed in the dark. He’d spent the last two hours sitting in the chair by the window, watching his pretend wife sleep and thinking about the situation.
Why had Robbie decided to chase after him when he’d been left with specific instructions about staying with Seamus and Meagan? Cade didn’t want to think what might have happened to the boy as he’d followed him and Lilly halfway across the country. Cade knew his dependable brother, a Chicago copper, would be beside himself with worry, so he’d telegraphed Robbie’s whereabouts to him at the same time he’d contacted William.
Cade was upset, too. He didn’t need the aggravation of either of his companions, much less both of them. How was he going to keep an eye on Lilly and Robbie? Shadowing her in Vandalia had proved that she was apt to go off on some strange quest with the potential to land her in a heap of trouble. Without a doubt, Robbie would. It was only a matter of time.
He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, fighting a feeling of futility, something he’d faced time and again the past fifteen months. Why was a question he’d grown weary of asking and had begun to fear there were no real answers.
Forcing his mind from the past, he sifted through what he knew about the Fontenot family members—both what William had told them and what they’d learned the evening before. None of it was much help. There were a lot of “whys” to be answered about them, too, before they could consider this assignment closed.
Why had Patricia married the doctor? Love, one would suppose, but what was it about him that caught her eye out of all the men she came into contact with?
Why were LaRee Fontenot and her great-granddaughter so certain that Dr. Ducharme had deliberately misdiagnosed his wife’s condition? From everything Cade knew about her actions following the deaths of her baby son and her daughter, it sounded as if the woman was as batty as Cade had first thought Lilly was.
He allowed his gaze to drift to the woman asleep in the bed. He still had no idea why she’d come running out of the decaying Illinois mansion screaming at the top of her lungs and doubted that he ever would. And he would never forget the startling splash of color she made in her long red cape against the backdrop of the snowy day. Like a cardinal in the snow.
He muttered a curse. Though he still loved his dead wife and he’d vowed to never marry again, he was still a man and as susceptible to a pretty face as the next. He could name a dozen reasons why getting involved with Lilly Long would be a disaster, the most obvious being that she was his partner, as well as still being legally tied to her husband. He could only imagine the chewing out he’d get from William if he did anything to upset the Pinkertons a second time.
Another “why” came to mind. Why that niggling attraction to Lilly?
Well, now, that’s always the question, isn’t it, McShane?
Knowing he would find no answers sitting there and brooding, he stood and went to light the lamp across the room. Time to get to work.
* * *
Lilly was awakened by someone shaking her shoulder. “Rise and shine,” a gruff voice said. “We have mountains of work to get done today.”
She rolled to her back and forced one eye open. Cade, who was illuminated by the lamp across the room, stood at the side of the bed wearing the serious, somewhat grumpy expression that had become so familiar since he’d shed the boxer’s persona.
“It’s dark.”
“Aye, it is,” he agreed. “Lamartine might forgive you for being late, but I’m not so sure about Mrs. Abelard. I imagine she’s already downstairs, starch in her dress and her spine, not a hair out of place.”
Groaning at the thought of dealing with the demanding housekeeper and dreading the day ahead of her, Lilly pushed herself into a sitting position. Though she’d done it often enough, rising before daylight was not her favorite time of day. “Can I have fifteen minutes to wash up and dress?” she asked in a sarcastic tone.
“You can have twenty, but not a minute more.”
With that, her partner turned and left the room, taking all the energy with him and leaving behind the scent of his shaving soap. She wondered at his self-control and his ability to adapt so easily. And how could he seem so eager to get to work when he’d spent the night on th
e floor? Was the answer as simple as that he was, in William Pinkerton’s words, a “professional”?
Would she ever reach that level of confidence and competence?
* * *
Cassandra and Preston arrived thirty minutes before lunch. A short time later, with the Blue Willow casserole dish holding the hot jambalaya in hand, Lilly entered the dining room where she found Cassandra Fontenot Easterling staring at a portrait of a woman and two young girls that hung above the sideboard: a likeness of her mother, herself, and her dead sister when they were young.
Patricia was an attractive woman with sable-brown hair, an oval face, and a wide mouth. Her most outstanding feature was her amazing green eyes. She was pretty without being a classic beauty. Suzannah had looked a lot like her. Cassandra must have taken after her father.
A quick glance and Lilly noted that the young woman was short and daintily built, just like her great-grandmother. Blond hair, tied up in a jumble of curls atop her head, made her look younger than she probably was. The swooshing sound of Lilly passing through the swinging door caused Cassandra to whirl around. An indication that her nerves were jittery?
Stop reading something into nothing, Lilly! More likely than not, there is nothing more to her edginess than that she’s weary from the trip, or . . . she dreads seeing the man who confined her mother to an asylum.
“Hello,” Cassandra said. “You must be the new help Grand-mère has been expecting.” Despite the haunted look in her eyes and the tenseness of her shoulders, her smile was friendly.
Uncertain how to respond to the woman’s warmth, Lilly set the dish on the sideboard next to the plate of crusty French bread before turning and making a slight curtsy. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Brona Sullivan.”
Cassandra clapped her hands together and laughed in true delight. “Oh, my goodness, Brona. There’s no need to curtsy. We aren’t royalty here, though there are some who act as if they are. I’m Cassandra, and I’m so glad you’re here to help Lamartine and Mrs. Abelard look after my precious grand-mère.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Bran and I were proud to find the work.”
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