Though This Be Madness

by Penny Richards

  Lilly glanced at her over her shoulder. “He does seem a bit . . . high-handed,” she stated, hoping that offering her own opinion would open up the conversation. “But then I haven’t been around him much.”

  “High-handed.” Neecie’s mouth seemed to taste the word. If the expression on her face was any indication, she didn’t like its flavor. “I’d say that’s a fair picture of him.” She took the extra uniform Lilly handed her and hung it on a nearby nail. “I was surprised to hear you traveled with Grand-mère. Not that it isn’t good to see you.”

  “I was surprised she asked me to come, but she’s had a gastric upset and didn’t want to make the trip alone. Since Mrs. Abelard doesn’t like being away from the city house, she asked me to come with her.”

  Neecie actually chuckled. “No, I’m guessin’ Miss Hedda likes it just fine when everyone is away. She’s got pretty attached to that house and everything in it.”

  Lilly didn’t see the humor in that, but the young servant added no further explanation.

  “How do you and your family like working with Mrs. Fontenot?” Neecie asked.

  “So far, it’s been good. Ca—” Lilly broke off the word she was about to say with a series of coughs. She’d almost called Cade by his true name. “Can’t complain,” she substituted. “Lamartine is a joy to work with, and Bernard is a blessing. It’s good for Robbie to have some structure to his life. I’m afraid he was too often left to his own devices before coming to live with us.” Well, that was the truth. “Having Bernard around has been good for him. I believe he’s a steadying influence.”

  “He’s a good boy.”

  “Speaking of boys . . . are you and Rollo hoping for a boy or a girl?”

  Neecie turned away and placed a stack of Lilly’s undergarments in an open drawer. “Maman and Aunt Lamartine both say it’s not a good idea to get too attached to the idea of having a baby when there are so many things that can go wrong, so I just take it a day at a time.”

  Lilly stood in the quiet of the room and reflected on the matter-of-fact statement. What a strange way of looking at things. She’d always assumed that when a woman carried a child inside her, that she would be overjoyed at the thought that her love for another person had culminated in such a miracle. . . unless, of course, that child had been conceived out of wedlock as she and her dead sibling had been.

  Or one is told over and over that something might go awry, as Henri had done to Patricia. Lilly doubted there had been any joy during her confinement.

  “Oh, Brona, I’m so sorry for reminding you,” Neecie said when the silence in the room stretched out uncomfortably.

  The statement jolted Lilly from her morbid thoughts. “What?”

  “I’d forgotten that you and Bran lost a baby.”

  Lilly drew in a breath. She, too, had forgotten the lie she’d told everyone. That was the problem with lies. They were hard to remember, and the more you told, the harder it was to keep them straight. She schooled her features into what she hoped was a suitable expression and said, “It’s all right, Neecie. If the Lord is willing, we’ll have a child of our own. If not, we have Robbie.”

  Lilly was happy to hear that she sounded sincere. “Now, since I’m sure Mrs. Fontenot will be spending most of her time with Cassandra, what on earth am I going to do to fill my days?”

  Neecie laughed again. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Maman will think of something.”

  * * *

  “I’m ready.”

  Cade was using a hoof pick to clean one of the horse’s feet when Henri’s voice preceded him into the shadowy interior of the carriage house. The ladies had been gone barely fifteen minutes, but Cade had already hitched up the buggy so that he could drive his employer to his office in Amos’s absence.

  He dropped the gelding’s hoof. “Yes, sir. Is it all right if Robbie comes along? I need to pick him up a pair of boots on the way back.” Amos had clued Cade in on the fact that Ducharme was not too much of a stickler about the help making stops on the way home as long as everything was up to snuff in the yard and carriage house.

  “I won’t be going to the office today,” Ducharme said with a jovial smile, “but the boy is welcome to ride along in the turnout seat.” The small seat in the back was a common addition to the popular buggy style in the South. “I’ll tell Amos when he gets back that you have permission to take the wagon tomorrow and make your purchase.”

  Despite what anyone thought he’d done, and whether or not it was all for show, Ducharme was usually pleasant, but Cade didn’t recall seeing him in such good humor. It made him curious as to where they might be headed.

  “Thank you, sir. And I’m sure he’ll enjoy the outing,” Cade said, though he knew Robbie had been looking forward to new footwear. His toes threatened to poke out the front of the boots he was wearing now.

  The boy must have been watching for their employer, because he came sauntering around the corner of the house, munching on a breakfast biscuit. He seemed always to be eating something. Cade figured there was more food available to him here than he’d ever seen in his life.

  Bernard looked a little despondent when Robbie climbed into the small rear seat of the buggy, but Cade brought back his smile by telling him that he could accompany him and Robbie the next day when they went looking for shoes.

  Cade sat next to Ducharme, who only spoke to him when he told him where and when to turn in order to reach their destination. When his instructions took them out of the city, Cade grew more curious. Where on earth were they headed?

  After another hour, the buggy started down a long lane. Sugarcane fields bordered either side of the narrow road, which soon ended in front of a small frame house with a slight overhang above the door. The only saving grace was the large trees shading the bungalow. The small dwelling with its flaking paint did not look like the sort of place the fastidious doctor would frequent.

  Cade pulled the horses to a halt. “Is this the place, sir?” he asked, turning to his employer with a questioning look.

  “It is. You and Robbie wait out here. Water the horses. Do whatever you can find to do. I’ll be a couple of hours.”

  As he pondered Henri’s reasons for coming to this out-of-the-way spot, the door flew open and a woman stepped out onto the poor excuse for a porch, a wide smile on her face.

  She was blond, perhaps in her early thirties. Slender and of medium height, the unknown woman wore a plain black skirt and patterned shirtwaist. That she was happy to see Henri was evident by her broad smile. For a moment, Cade expected her to throw herself into the doctor’s arms, but she did not. Then they disappeared into the house and shut the door.

  Cade guided the buggy to a shady spot, set the brake, and looped the reins around the right-hand lantern. If they were going to be sitting and waiting for two hours, he didn’t plan to bake in the sun.

  Robbie hopped down from the back seat and came around to confront Cade. There was a gleam of cheekiness in his whiskey-colored eyes. “What do you think this is all about, McShane?”

  He gave a slow shake of his head. “I haven’t a clue, lad.”

  Robbie snorted a little laugh. “If ya don’t, yer not as smart as you think you are. Here’s a hint. He’s a man and she’s a woman mighty glad to see him.”

  The boy might make an agent yet, if he could be kept on the straight and narrow the next dozen years. Though Cade suspected the same thing, he was acutely aware that Robbie Jenkins knew far more about the facts of life and the sordidness of the world than any ten-year-old ought. Why, the child thought no more about slipping into a tavern than he would a church. Truth to tell, he’d be far more at home in a pub.

  Cade lifted his eyebrows in question, but the twinkle of mischief in his eyes said they were in agreement. “Are you suggesting that there’s something goin’ on between them?” he asked in a scandalized whisper. “That the doctor is not only being unfaithful to his poor wife with Mrs. Abelard, but this woman as well?”

  Realizing that he was
being played, Robbie grinned his impudent grin. “It would seem so, you buffoon, and I intend to find out.”

  Without waiting for consent or denial, he turned and ran toward the bungalow, slipping through the trees until he disappeared behind the residence. Cade opened his mouth to call the boy back but didn’t want to take a chance on alerting Ducharme or the woman. As usual with Robbie, it was best to just sit back, try not to worry too much, and see what happened.

  While he waited for the child’s return or for all hell to break loose, Cade paced back and forth from the buggy to a small barn a distance away. On the third trip, he decided to have a look around the structure, on the off chance that the decrepit building held some clue to their investigation. He found nothing but an ancient nag, an old buggy with a folding top, some leather harness that needed some care, and a grain box filled with oats. A pile of hay rested in one corner.

  He went to the doorway of the barn, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned against the doorframe, regarding the house. Did the unknown woman live here alone? Was her relationship to Ducharme the obvious one? If so, how many women was the doctor stringing along? Could their theory be right? Was it his carnal appetite for one of these women behind him needing to rid himself of his wife? If so, could he possibly be willing to trade the beautiful, accomplished Patricia for either of the two women who seemed in the running? And just how much further would he take his scheme to gain control of the Fontenot fortune?

  One thing was certain. They’d know sooner or later.

  His gaze shifted to the road and he found himself wondering if Mrs. Fontenot and Lilly had arrived at River Run. Would she find that one crucial bit of information that would lead them to the culprit in this investigation . . . if indeed there was one? He shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of the case that kept circling round and round in his head.

  For some obscure reason the memory of Lilly asking him to teach her how to defend herself came to mind. Why hadn’t he taken the time to do it before now? It would have been easy enough to find someplace where no prying eyes could see them, if it was just in the barn after everyone had gone to bed. What if she needed some way to protect herself while she was gone?

  “What’s the matter, Bran?” Robbie quipped, ducking into the barn. “Missin’ Brona?”

  “I wouldn’t call it missing her,” he corrected, surprised that the boy could read him so well. “More concerned about not being around in case she needs me.”

  “I been watching her, and she keeps her eyes open,” Robbie offered.

  That was good to know. It was also good to know that even though his feelings for her were ambivalent at best, Robbie was looking out for her, too, though he’d deny it if asked. “Did you see anything?”

  “Found a nice shrub where I could see in the parlor window, I did. Saw the doctor playing with a baby.”

  “A baby?”

  Hearing that Ducharme was inside playing with a baby was the absolute last thing Cade expected to hear. What in blazes was the doctor up to? And who on earth were the woman and child? She looked too young to be his lover, but then when it came to some men, were they ever too young? Was she a daughter from his previous marriage and the baby a grandchild?

  “Looked to be a boy, but I didn’t see the goods, if you know what I mean, and I’m no expert on the matter.”

  Cade fought to suppress a smile. “What else?”

  “I watched them awhile, and then the woman dished up some soup or stew or something, so I found me an open window, climbed in, and had me a look around.” The announcement was accompanied by a roguish smile.

  “You went into the house?” Cade could not hide his astonishment at the boy’s audacity. “What if they’d heard you?”

  “Well, that would’ve been a fine mess, wouldn’t it? But they didn’t, so that’s a moat point.”

  “Moat?”

  “Unimportant.”

  It was Cade’s turn to smile. “Moot, lad. It’s a moot point.”

  Robbie shrugged.

  “Did you find out anything of importance during your little break-in?”

  “I didn’t break into anything. The window was wide open. And whatever they were eatin’ smelled really good, and I’m starving.”

  “You had breakfast and a biscuit on the way. You can’t be hungry.”

  “I’m a growin’ boy,” Robbie said in all seriousness. “Lamartine says I have a hollow leg.”

  “Well, you’ll just have to be hungry for a while. The doctor didn’t say anything about us being gone for dinner, and I didn’t bring anything.”

  “Won’t be the first time I went without a meal,” Robbie said philosophically. “Probably won’t be the last.”

  Cade ignored his dramatic tone. “Let me rephrase my question. Did you find out anything of importance to the case?

  “I looked in the drawers, and—”

  “You didn’t help yourself to anything, did you?”

  Robbie somehow managed to look both guilty and insulted.

  “I’ll have you know, McShane, that I have turned over a new leaf. As you keep reminding me, I’m part of a Pinkerton team, and they do not suffer their agents behaving in a disgraceful way. You, of all people, should know that,” he pointed out. “All that’s in my past.”

  “D’ya have your fingers crossed behind yer back?” Cade asked, only half teasing. “It seemed a legitimate question, since you’ve the skills of a light-fingered monk.”

  “I was rather good at it, wasn’t I?” Robbie said with a satisfied nod. “There wasn’t much in there. Some letters, and a little book with writing in it. A Bible.”

  “What did the letters say?”

  “How would I know?”

  Cade had forgotten that Robbie had received little to no schooling and couldn’t read. “Well, that will have to be remedied. Lilly can teach you. We can’t be having a Pinkerton who can’t read. Why didn’t you bring me one of the letters?”

  The boy made a sound of disgust and gave Cade an offended look. “Make up your mind about my thieving, McShane.”

  Cade admitted the kid had a point, though he’d have given a week’s wages to see the name on the letters and what was written inside them. Nevertheless, the chance was gone. Even if he weren’t trying to lead Robbie down the straight and narrow, he couldn’t send him back to get the letters long enough to read them and then go back a third time to return them. Could he?

  No, it was far too risky. Henri might walk out the door at any moment and announce that he was ready to go, or he and the woman might retire for an hour’s rendezvous in the bedroom. Either scenario and young Robbie would be in a pickle.

  Besides, even though Lilly was always spouting Allan Pinkerton’s motto about the ends justifying the means, he could imagine the tongue-lashing she’d give him for putting the boy in harm’s way. He’d almost forgotten how hard it was to stay on the right side of that woman.

  He released a deep breath. “Right. No stealing. Was there anything else?”

  “Some men’s clothes hanging on some nails on the wall. Just a couple of extra outfits.”

  “Were they the doctor’s size?”

  Robbie folded his skinny arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side in disbelief. “I don’t know, McShane. I didn’t ask him to try them on.”

  “That’s it, then?”

  “Not quite.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There was some pretty paper in the drawer and a pencil and I copied what was on the outside of the envelope the best I could.”

  For a second Cade wondered if he’d heard right. “You what?”

  Grinning, Robbie pulled a small piece of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to Cade, who gathered the child into a tight hug and spun him around, Robbie complaining every second.

  “Good work, lad.” Setting the boy to the ground, he unfolded the paper and tried to decipher the poorly formed letters. After much scrutiny, he said, “Delia Breaux.”

&n
bsp; “The same thing was written on the outside of all the envelopes. I guess that’s her name, but who is she?”

  “Good question.” Who was Delia Breaux? Just another woman the good doctor was sleeping with? Where was her husband and the father of the child? Was it possible he was out in the cane fields working while she dallied with a rich man . . . or a man who would someday be rich . . . if something happened to the Fontenot women?

  Cade reached out and cuffed the boy’s shoulder. “You did right well. I don’t know who this woman is, but when we learn more about the doctor, all the pieces of the puzzle will start to come together and make sense. We’ll have to see what Lilly makes of it.”

  The minute he said the words, Cade grew irritated with himself. Just because he was forced to work with her on the case and share their clues didn’t mean he needed her to piece them together. He’d done just fine working alone all these years, and he didn’t plan on getting close to another woman, not even in a working capacity. When you allowed yourself to care about someone in any meaningful way and something happened to that person, it was bad. Really bad. He half regretted the closeness he felt to Robbie Jenkins.

  “So,” Robbie said, cutting short Cade’s train of thought, “if there’s nothing to eat, what do we do while we wait?”

  Cade pulled a worn deck of playing cards from his pocket. The nuns who’d done their best to shape him into an upright person would have a fit if they knew he was corrupting the boy by teaching him to watch for dirty tricks while playing cards, but Cade figured the boy could learn far worse things.

  “What say we sit in the buggy and play a few hands while we’re waiting?”

  “Sure. Bet I can beat you without cheating.”

  “If you cheat, I’ll see it.”

  “You didn’t notice that swell dealing from the bottom the other night.”

  The swell. Timothy Warner. Lilly’s husband. But not for long. So she said. He’d told her that he’d go back to the tavern and see if he was there, or had been around since their set-to. He’d take care of that tonight.

  * * *

  Cade and Robbie played several hands of poker while waiting for the doctor, and shortly before Ducharme came out of the cabin, Robbie started complaining that his stomach wasn’t feeling so good. Hoping he wasn’t taking what Mrs. Fontenot had, Cade told him he was probably just hungry and had him lie down in the seat until time to go. Finally, there was a commotion at the front door of the house.