A Talent for Trouble

by Jen Turano

  Cora closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them and settling her attention on Felicia. “Your mother isn’t aware of what you intend to do?”

  “My mother isn’t actually speaking to me right now, so I didn’t have an opportunity to explain to her my plans.”

  “I’ve never known your mother not to speak to someone. She’s constantly speaking.”

  “I think she believes, if she gives me the cold shoulder, I’ll reform my recent trying ways.”

  Agatha moved over to her side and patted her arm. “Speaking of your trying ways, Zayne believes his purpose in accompanying us today is to cheer you up. I told him you were somewhat distraught.”

  “Why would you tell him that?”

  “I couldn’t very well tell him exactly what we planned to do. He’d never have agreed to come along.” She shot an innocent look to her mother. “Not that we’re going to be in danger or anything.”

  “But I’m not distraught in the least,” Felicia pointed out, even as Cora began sputtering once again.

  “You’re going to have to pretend you are, because I told Zayne you’re a touch dismayed that Grayson isn’t escorting you to the ball.”

  Felicia’s mouth dropped open for a brief moment. “If you’ll recall, Grayson and I never had set plans for him to escort me. You’re the one who brought it up, and then he balked, only agreeing after you badgered him about it, but I never consented to go with him. I’m hardly dismayed about it. Besides, I have three brothers, all of whom are perfectly capable of escorting me to the ball.”

  “Yes, but they’re your brothers.”

  Cora cleared her throat, quite loudly, and walked over to stand directly in front of Felicia, edging Agatha out of the way. “Am I to understand you and Grayson Sumner have formed an attachment?”

  “Not at all.”

  “But he wanted to escort you to the ball?”

  “No, your daughter tried to meddle and told him to escort me, but I refused.” Felicia smiled. “Even if we’d planned on going together, I’m afraid that would no longer be possible since my mother is decidedly put out with the gentleman at the moment.”

  Cora frowned. “I thought she was put out with you.”

  “Oh, she is, but I do think she might be just a tad more annoyed with Grayson. He is the reason my life could be in danger, and he is the reason there’s a very disturbing guard by the name of Mr. Blackheart dogging my every step.”

  Agatha took that moment to smack herself in the head, the action causing the wig she’d put over her hair to wobble. “I forgot all about Mr. Blackheart. He’s certain to complicate matters.”

  Felicia shook her head. “No, he won’t, because he didn’t see me leave home. I climbed out a back window and snuck off down a side street.”

  “Why didn’t you just walk out a back door?”

  “I thought it was entirely more cloak-and-dagger to use the window. It helped me get into the right frame of mind for what we’re about to do.”

  Agatha wrinkled her nose. “You’re somewhat odd. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It wasn’t meant as such, but I have to tell you, Mr. Blackheart is not going to be happy in the least when he discovers you’ve given him the slip.”

  “I don’t think Mr. Blackheart is ever happy.”

  Agatha grinned. “True, but he’s incredibly loyal to Theodore and takes his job seriously. I’ve had him escort me to the tenement slums on numerous occasions, and while he is a dreary sort, he’s very capable.”

  Cora began to tap her toe against the floor. “If he’s so capable, I must ask why neither of you seemed to consider asking him to go with you today?”

  “Oh, I don’t think that would have been wise, Mrs. Watson,” Felicia began when she realized Agatha didn’t seem to have an answer available to her and had taken to staring at her reflection in the mirror, incredibly focused on making certain her whiskers were securely patted into place. “Mr. Blackheart seems to be the sort who believes in following a strict rulebook, and . . .” Felicia stuttered to a stop when Cora seemed to swell on the spot.

  “Do not even tell me the two of you are going to be investigating brothels today.” Cora rounded on Agatha. “Is that why you mentioned you didn’t tell Zayne where you’re going, knowing full well he’d balk?”

  “We’re not investigating brothels, Mother. I do plan on traveling back to some of those in the future, but not today.”

  “Where are you going, then?” Cora pressed.

  “Mother, we’ve been over this, numerous times in fact. My position as a journalist for the New-York Tribune requires me to travel to all parts of the city, and some of those parts, if you knew exactly where I was going, are bound to distress you. Since I’m not willing to give up my position with the paper, and you and Father did finally agree that I should be allowed to pursue my dream, you’re simply going to have to trust me and accept that I’m a responsible lady.”

  Cora narrowed her eyes. “Felicia’s mother has not been given the courtesy of knowing what her daughter is getting into today.”

  Felicia stepped closer to Cora and laid a hand on her arm. “Mrs. Watson, forgive me, but I’m twenty-four years old. I’m quite old enough to make my own decisions without seeking out my mother’s permission.”

  “You’re twenty-four?”

  “I reluctantly must admit to it.”

  “Then I suppose I really am going to have to hold my tongue and allow the two of you to get on with things. But I do expect both of you to promise me to be careful and to try your hardest to avoid arrest.”

  Felicia smiled. “We’ll do our best.”

  Cora opened her mouth, but before she could give what was certain to be another piece of motherly advice, Agatha suddenly grinned and waved toward the door.

  “Ah, Grace, I was wondering when you were going to stop lurking outside the door and join us.”

  Felicia watched as Agatha’s younger sister sidled into the room, her appearance so similar to Agatha’s that Felicia couldn’t help but grin. By her shifty expression, much like the one Agatha frequently wore, it was clear that Grace had been lurking for quite some time.

  Grace came to stop in front of Agatha and gave Agatha’s beard a tug. “That’s an interesting disguise. You do realize that your wig doesn’t match your beard though, don’t you?”

  “I had to work with what was available, and no one will actually see much of my wig once I get my hat into place.” Agatha gestured to Felicia. “What do you think of Felicia’s costume?”

  “Very nice, except those trousers are a bit tight.” She smiled. “I’m Grace by the way, Grace Watson. I’ve seen you before, Miss Murdock, but I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced.” She lifted her chin. “I’m not old enough to come out into society quite yet.”

  Felicia smiled, unable to help herself from immediately adoring the young girl. She was completely charming, and Felicia knew that when she did reach the age where she could come out, New York would never be the same.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Grace. Please, call me Felicia, and tell me, are my trousers really too tight?”

  Agatha strode across the room and picked up what looked to be a gentleman’s jacket, in a rather unusual shade of lime green. She tossed it to Felicia. “That should take care of the problem, but Grace is right, they are a touch snug. I hope they don’t burst a seam.”

  “I didn’t think about that,” Felicia said, swiveling her head to try and gauge exactly how tight the fabric was stretched across her bottom. She shook out the coat, eyed it for a moment, and then tossed it on. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a gentleman wear this particular color.”

  “At least you won’t attract any attention from the ladies,” Grace said with a laugh. She eyed Felicia for a moment, and then her face turned pink. “I saw your brother the other day on his horse, your brother Daniel.”

  Felicia felt her lips begin to cu
rl, but she quickly stifled the urge to grin when she realized immediately why Grace had been lurking for such a long time outside the door. She’d probably been contemplating exactly how to bring Daniel—oh so casually—into the conversation, because it was obvious that, although Grace couldn’t be more than eleven or twelve, she’d developed a wee bit of an infatuation for Felicia’s younger brother.

  Remembering all too well her first infatuation, with a boy by the name of Rupert, no less, Felicia paused to consider how she should reply.

  While she’d been in the midst of her infatuation with Rupert, she’d trailed him around rather obviously, and that trailing had been noticed by Rupert’s older sister—either that or he’d complained to her about Felicia’s unwanted attention. His sister had been less than careful with her choice of words, ruthlessly telling Felicia that Rupert was far too old for her and only liked ladies who were possessed of grace and charm. She’d then warned that if Felicia didn’t leave her brother alone, she’d be sorry indeed.

  The embarrassment of that encounter lingered still, which was why Felicia needed to be very careful with Grace’s tender young feelings.

  She caught Grace’s gaze and found the girl staring back at her rather intently. She summoned up a smile. “Daniel’s just recently returned from Harvard, but I do believe he intends to head up to our summer home in Newport soon. After that, he’s planning on traveling to Pittsburgh with our father in order to learn a bit about the family steel business.”

  Grace’s slim shoulders sagged. “We don’t have a summer home in Newport. Our house is on the Hudson.” She brightened and looked to her mother. “We should buy a house in Newport. Why, I bet it would be a wonderful investment, and you know how Father dearly loves investing.”

  To give Cora credit, she barely batted an eye. “That’s a wonderful idea, Grace, and I’ll bring it up to your father at my earliest convenience.”

  Grace frowned. “How early is your earliest?”

  “The next few years or so, but certainly before you turn eighteen.”

  Felicia swallowed a laugh, knowing full well that if Grace still had the same feelings for Daniel when she turned eighteen, Cora, being one of the most diligent matchmaking mothers in society, would not only speak to her husband, she’d make certain a house was bought in Newport as well. She’d probably go about trying to purchase the home right next to Felicia’s family, even if that meant disposing of the family who currently owned the place.

  “But, that’s forever away,” Grace said slowly.

  Agatha nodded. “Indeed it is, but for now, how about if you help Felicia get that mustache back on properly?”

  As a distracting factor, including Grace in their preparations worked wonders. Her shoulders straightened, her lips curved into a smile, and a moment later, she was holding a jar of glue as she considered Felicia’s mustache. “How much do you think I should use?”

  “I have no idea, but try to put on enough so I don’t lose my mustache in the middle of our investigation,” Felicia said. “That would be a sight, wouldn’t it, if I were to lose my mustache in the midst of speaking with someone?”

  Grace leaned closer, dabbed some glue on Felicia’s upper lip and lowered her voice. “I know where the two of you are going.”

  Felicia turned to find Cora was engaged in adjusting Agatha’s costume, but even so, she spoke softly. “How do you know that?”

  “Agatha talks to herself when she’s plotting, and I just happened to be standing right outside her door.”

  Felicia knew without a doubt she’d just discovered a kindred spirit. She leaned closer to Grace and lowered her voice even further. “While I can hardly lecture you for eavesdropping, seeing as how I used to do quite a bit of that myself in my younger years, it might be best if you didn’t disclose that information to your mother. It’ll only make her worry. Although . . . if your sister and I don’t happen to return in the next day or so, feel free to tell everyone our destination.”

  Grace grinned. “You know, I heard Agatha say you’re rather odd, but I don’t find that to be the case at all.” She pressed Felicia’s mustache firmly into place and held it for a second. “I think it’ll stay, but I’m afraid it might sting when you try to remove it. Hopefully it won’t leave too much of a mark, although, with your fair complexion, you might be rather red for a while.”

  She really should have considered that before she’d encouraged Grace to plaster her mustache back on her face. Although her dress for the Beckett ball was red, she really didn’t care to have a matching face. It would hardly allow her to impress . . .

  She pushed that disturbing thought right out of her mind. Honestly, she had a dangerous assignment ahead of her, and the last thing she needed was Grayson and how he’d react to seeing her at the ball stomping around her mind.

  “Are you all right?” Grace asked. “You’ve turned pink.”

  It was time to redirect the conversation. “Don’t you have a younger sister? Where is she?”

  Grace looked as if she wanted to continue discussing Felicia’s pink face, but then she shrugged. “Lily’s over at Mr. Hamilton Beckett’s house. Eliza used to be our governess, before everyone learned she was an aristocrat and before she met up with Hamilton. Now that she’s turned all respectable, Mother allows us to visit her.”

  Cora let out a sniff. “I never forbade you access to Eliza.”

  “You threw her out of our house,” Agatha reminded her.

  “Your father threw her out of the house,” Cora corrected, “and you know full well it was a simple misunderstanding. I adore Eliza.”

  “You made her wear Aunt Mildred’s hideous gown and attend one of your dinner parties,” Grace added.

  “And since that turned out incredibly well for her, seeing as that is where she met Hamilton, I don’t understand why everyone still brings that up.”

  Agatha smiled. “We bring it up because it’s amusing to watch your reaction.” She turned to Felicia. “Grace and Lily have taken to helping Eliza entertain the children, especially since Ming’s been spending a lot of time over there.”

  Grace nodded. “Ming has been driving everyone batty lately. Eliza keeps telling everyone it’s just a stage.”

  “Why didn’t you stay with Eliza and help if Ming’s being so difficult?” Cora asked.

  The shifty expression returned, causing Felicia to swallow a laugh.

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Lily’s much better at it than I am. Besides, I’m twelve. Lily’s only ten, and she has nothing better to do with her time. I came home because . . . I need to find something to wear tomorrow night.” The last part of the sentence came out very fast and somewhat mumbled.

  Cora drew herself up. “And where, pray tell, do you think you’ll be tomorrow night?”

  “Eliza told me I could help their nanny watch the children during the ball.”

  Cora frowned. “You need to worry about what you’re going to wear to Eliza’s house?”

  “I won’t actually be at Eliza’s house, Mother. Piper didn’t want to miss out on the festivities, and since Zayne Beckett is her uncle and the ball’s being held in his honor, Eliza felt it was acceptable to indulge her just this once.”

  “Hmm,” Cora began. “Well, I’ll allow you to go, but I better not find you shirking your duties and slipping into the ball.”

  “Piper’s tricky, and you know she won’t be content to peer over the banister. I might have to go after her, which means I’ll have to be dressed appropriately.”

  “As long as it’s not at your suggestion she makes a dash for it,” Cora said dryly.

  Grace opened her mouth, obviously to proclaim innocence in regard to that idea, but whatever she was about to say was interrupted when a housemaid stuck her head into the room.

  To Felicia’s surprise, the maid’s eyes widened only a bit as she looked at Agatha, even though her lips were quivering ever so slightly, as if she were trying not to laugh.

  “Begging your pardon, Miss Watson, but
Mr. Zayne Beckett has arrived.”

  Grace stepped forward. “How does he look?”

  The maid frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “What’s his disguise?”

  “Oh, he’s not wearing a disguise. He looks perfectly normal in a jacket, trousers, and appropriate hat.”

  Cora headed for the door. “I should go speak with him while you two finish up.”

  Agatha rushed to the door and blocked Cora’s way. “I don’t think there’s any need for you to speak to him.”

  “He’ll find it rude if he’s made to wait without anyone keeping him company.”

  Agatha nodded to the maid. “Rosie, you should go keep Mr. Beckett company.”

  Rosie looked downright alarmed at that idea. “I don’t think . . .”

  “Ignore Agatha, Rosie. You may go back to whatever you were doing before you came up here,” Cora said, which had Rosie spinning on her heel and disappearing a second later. “Honestly, Agatha, sometimes you make the most outlandish demands, asking poor Rosie to entertain Mr. Beckett, one of the most socially prominent gentlemen in New York.”

  “I’d rather she speak with him than you. You know you’ll end up badgering him about going out west to join Miss Collins.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cora said before she sailed out of the room without another word.

  Agatha’s brow wrinkled. “We’d better hurry. I can’t allow Mother to spend too much time alone with Zayne. The good Lord alone knows what she’ll say, and I can guarantee you, whatever she says will be certain to cause me no small amount of embarrassment.” She hurried over to a chair and plucked up an opera gown that greatly resembled the one Arabella had previously lent Felicia.

  “What are you going to do with that?” Felicia asked.

  “It’s Zayne’s costume.”

  Felicia exchanged a glance with Grace, who was grinning. She turned back to Agatha. “Is there really a need to have Zayne dress up as a lady, or dress up at all, for that matter?”