A Love All Her Own (12 page)

Robert backed off, his hands raised. “I understand. Completely.”

“I’m not sure you do, but as long as you keep your hands to yourself and quit bothering Abigail, everything will be just fine.”

Marcus hoped Abigail wasn’t upset with his implication that they were courting. But if it kept Robert away from her, that was what mattered. He wasn’t sure how she felt about it, as she was silent as they ascended the stairs and walked down the hall to her room.

❧

Abigail’s heart was pounding so loud she was afraid Marcus might hear it. For a moment, she’d thought he and Robert might come to blows. But it looked as if she wouldn’t have to worry about Robert bothering her anymore.

Marcus checked her room out as usual. When he came back to the hall and handed the key back to her, he surprised her by asking, “Are you upset with me?”

“Not at all. Why would I be upset with you? I think Robert finally got the message not to bother me anymore, and I can’t thank you enough, Marcus. It was getting to the point that I dreaded seeing him at all. Truthfully, something about him frightens me a little. I don’t know what it is, but—”

“Don’t worry about him. I won’t let him get near you again.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and her pulse began to race at the look in his eyes as he bent his head.

“You are welcome.” His head dipped toward her, and he lifted her chin to look into her eyes. Her eyes closed the moment his lips touched hers, and Abigail realized her heart had wanted him to do just that for weeks. She couldn’t keep from responding, and he pulled her into his arms and deepened the kiss. She wasn’t sure who ended it, but she had a feeling it would be a long time before she quit feeling the sweet touch of his lips on hers.

“I. . .” For the first time since she’d known him, Marcus seemed to be at a loss for words. He took a step back and then reached out and gently touched her lips. “I. . .I’d better go. Sleep well, and lock your door.”

Abigail backed into the room, her eyes never leaving his. He pulled the door shut, and she inserted the key and turned it with trembling fingers.

“Good night, Abigail.” His voice was deep and husky from the other side of the door. “Sleep well.”

“Good night, Marcus.” She didn’t know how she was going to sleep at all after that kiss. Abigail sighed and leaned against the door, her hand over her heart. She was in love with Marcus Wellington. And whatever she felt for Nate Brooks was nothing compared to what she felt for the man who’d just claimed her heart with one kiss.

Twelve

Marcus came back downstairs, hoping not to run into Abigail’s friends again. But there they were, still chatting and laughing. He had to wonder if they were waiting until he came back down. Now that he thought of it, many times the men were just leaving the hotel when he came back from seeing Abigail to her room.

The idea that they were waiting to make sure that he did come back down quickly didn’t sit well with him. How dare they think that he and Abigail—
I have no proof that is what they’ve been wondering. None at all.
Still, he had a feeling that was exactly what they’d been doing.

He took a moment to say good night to them and went to talk to Ross, who was on duty. He didn’t even bother to keep his voice down, as the only people in the lobby were he, Ross, and Abigail’s friends.

“Keep an eye out,” he said to Ross. “If anyone bothers her, you know what to do.”

Evidently, Ross had enjoyed witnessing the earlier exchange between Marcus and Robert. He grinned up at Marcus. “I certainly do.”

“I’ll be looking for your report tomorrow.”

“You’ll get it,” Ross said.

When Marcus turned to leave, he nodded once more to Abigail’s friends, and he couldn’t miss the look of dislike on Robert’s face. Well, too bad. Marcus didn’t trust the man one bit, and he hoped Robert realized that he was having someone watch after Abigail.

The men might not be going out tonight—after all, it was Sunday—but he had tailed them one night after the ladies retired for the evening, just long enough to know that they spent most of their nights gambling at one of several clubs in town. That was one of the downsides of a growing resort town in which rich people thought they needed the same kind of entertainment they had back home. Some of those amusements would be better left back there, as far as Marcus was concerned.

He walked out of the hotel and looked up at Abigail’s window. The light was still shining, and he wondered if she was having her tea and if she was thinking of the kiss they’d just shared. He knew he wasn’t going to forget it anytime soon. He shouldn’t have kissed her. . .because now that he knew how sweet her lips tasted, he’d be wanting to kiss her again. And again. Of that he had no doubt.

❧

“So, Marcus is afraid I’ll make myself a pest, is he?” Robert asked Abigail first thing the next day as soon as she came downstairs.

Reginald and Edward began a conversation with each other, but Abigail had a feeling they were listening to every word as she asked, “What do you mean?”

“It appears he’s hired someone to make sure I don’t bother you.” Robert nodded in the direction of Nelson, who’d come on duty that morning. “I’m sure he’s been watching me. There was another here last night.”

“There are men sitting in this lobby all the time, Robert. I believe your imagination has gotten away from you.”

Jillian and Rebecca came down just then, and they all headed toward the dining room, with Robert taking the lead, obviously out of sorts.

“What is he upset about now?” Rebecca asked.

“He thinks Marcus is having him watched.”

“Well, it wouldn’t surprise me any if he is, after last night when Marcus told him he’d be seeing you to your room,” Jillian whispered to her as they were being shown to their table. “Marcus doesn’t want him around you.”

Abigail’s heart did a little flip. After that kiss she and Marcus had shared, she hoped Jillian was right.

“Then again, maybe he’s going to watch Robert on his own.” Jillian nodded in the direction of the hotel lobby.

“What?” Abigail turned to see Marcus enter the dining room with a smile. Her stomach felt like a hundred butterflies took flight as he crossed the room to their table. He wasn’t looking at anyone but her.

“May I join you?”

“Of course.”

He pulled up a chair beside Abigail, and Robert had no choice but to move his chair down. “Since your friends think they might be leaving soon, I decided to take off work the next few days so I can accompany you wherever you want to go with them.”

“Why how nice of you, Wellington,” Robert said with a sarcastic tone.

“It is very nice of you, Marcus. We’ll enjoy your company,” Jillian said.

“Thank you, Jillian.”

The others in the party added their welcome to Marcus, but it was obvious that Robert especially wasn’t pleased as he kept silent and gave his attention to the menu.

“Well, what shall we do?” Rebecca asked in a voice that sounded slightly whiny.

“What haven’t you seen yet?”

“There can’t be much more,” Edward said. “I think we’ve been to every bathhouse in town, and we’ve been to the races—if you can call it that. We got to see some trial runs, but the season actually ended at the McComb Racetrack before we got here. We’ve been to the opera several times.”

“We’re going again on Friday evening,” Reginald said.

“Well, what can we do today?” Rebecca asked. “I’m always up for shopping, but I think I’ve been to every shop in town.”

“How about a picnic tomorrow?” Marcus suggested. “The weather is very pleasant in late September, and I know several places that you might not have been to yet.”

“I like picnics,” Abigail said. “We can have the hotel pack us one.”

“Yes, we did that the first Sunday we were here,” Jillian said. “It was very good.”

“Let’s do that, then,” Rebecca said.

The waiter came to take their orders, and once he left the table, the subject changed back to what to do that day.

“Why don’t we just take a ride around the countryside?” Abigail asked. “I haven’t seen it all. The National Reservation is large; perhaps we can take a ride up Hot Springs Mountain and see the view of Hot Springs from there.”

Several other ideas were thrown out, but Abigail found she didn’t really care what they decided to do. Marcus would be with them all day, and that alone made anywhere they might go more special.

❧

On Friday afternoon, Marcus sat at his desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he pored over the detailed reports Luke Monroe had brought to him. He’d received a telegram from Luke on Wednesday evening, letting him know that his suspicions were on target: Robert Ackerman had a past, and it wasn’t pretty. Luke had left Eureka Springs that same evening and was sitting across from him now.

“Good work, Luke.”

The younger man beamed at the compliment. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad I could get some usable information for you.”

Marcus looked at the paper in front of him and nodded. “I’d call this usable. First thing we have to do is talk to the chief of police. I put in a telephone call earlier.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’s supposed to be here anytime. I didn’t want to go there. I don’t want Ackerman or any of his friends to see me go into the police station. We can’t let Ackerman know that we’re on to him.”

“No, sir, that wouldn’t be a good thing. I was afraid to put all the details in a telegram, but I worried all the way back that maybe I should have.”

“I needed the proof you’ve brought me before I could do anything. I did ask the chief to see if he had anything on Ackerman, but nothing turned up.”

“And of course that’s because he’s going by a different name now.”

Marcus nodded. “You know, Luke, you did as good a job as any of my seasoned agents would have. Not everyone would have dug as deep as you did to come up with Ackerman’s true identity. You’ve learned well.”

“Does that mean you’ll be using me in the field a little more often?”

“It definitely does.” Marcus was proud of the young man. He had the makings of a great agent and had already proved himself.

“I’ll be ready.”

A knock on the door signaled the police chief’s arrival, and Marcus welcomed him into his office.

“Wellington, you don’t ask for a meeting unless it’s something worth my while. What have you got?”

“Have a seat, Chief.” Marcus motioned to the chair beside Luke in front of his desk. “This young man has just come back from Eureka Springs after investigating a man who’s here in Hot Springs. A Robert Ackerman, formerly known as John Baxter. Ever heard of him?”

“Actually, that name is familiar, but I don’t know from where. Who is he?”

“A dangerous man.” Marcus slid Luke’s report and a
Wanted
poster over to the chief. “And someone you might be interested in putting behind bars. I certainly am.”

Marcus had put an extra man to watching Abigail ever since he’d had the run-in with Ackerman on Sunday evening. Now he was more than glad he had, but he wouldn’t rest until the police had him in custody. The chief scanned Luke’s report. “I see he’s been living off the wealth of others for quite a while. He’s apparently married several rich young women and inherited their wealth after they all died of mysterious causes.” He looked up from the paper. “All except for the last one. She was shot, and he’s wanted for her murder. He’s been wanted for murder for over two years?”

“Yes, sir,” Luke answered.

“And this man is the Robert Ackerman you asked me to check out.” The chief looked at Marcus. “The one who is staying at the Arlington?”

“He’s one and the same.”

“Is he there now?”

“Last I heard from my agent, he and several of his friends had gone out of the hotel.” Thankfully, Abigail wasn’t with them. His mother had invited Abigail and her lady friends over for tea, so at least he didn’t have to worry about her being anywhere near Robert. “I do know where he will be this evening though.”

“Well, let’s come up with a plan. This man needs to be put behind bars, and the sooner the better. I don’t want a murderer running around my town for one more day.”

Marcus was pretty sure he wanted it even less than the chief did. “I’ve been thinking about that. . . .”

❧

Abigail opened the door to Jillian and Rebecca, who had come to Abigail’s room to have Bea help them with their hair before going to the opera that evening. The young maid had been able to make a little extra money while they’d been there. While Abigail had wanted to learn to do some things on her own and had actually needed Bea less as time went on, Jillian and Rebecca had used her services in helping them get ready quite often since they’d arrived. Bea was happy to make the extra money, and they were happy they had someone to take care of them.

“I do hate to leave tomorrow,” Jillian said as she waited for Bea to finish with Rebecca’s hair. “Do you think you’ll be home for Christmas? Surely you’ll be home for that!”

“I don’t know,” Abigail said. She did miss her parents; she also wanted to see Natalie so badly, but there still had been no response from the child she loved as her own. Still, she didn’t want to go back to Eureka Springs. She especially didn’t want to go back if Natalie didn’t want to see her. “Maybe my parents will come here. The Wellingtons would love to have them come for a visit, and that way I could stay here.”

“But don’t you ever want to come back?” Rebecca asked.

“I don’t know. I do like it here very much.”

“You like Marcus Wellington,” Rebecca stated.

Abigail looked in the mirror and pinched her cheeks, trying to give an excuse for the color that rushed up her face. “Marcus is a family friend. I’ve told you that.”

“Yes, you did say that. And I believe he is,” Rebecca said. “But I think there is more to it. Robert does, too.”

“Oh, Robert! He’s just upset that I don’t want to have anything to do with him.”

“Mmm. But—”

“Rebecca, leave Abigail alone about all that. I wouldn’t want Robert’s attentions, either. And how she feels about Marcus is none of our business.”

Dear Jillian
.
If there was one person she was going to miss, it would be she. She’d proven to truly be a friend. Abigail smiled at her now as Bea began to work on her hair. Perhaps it was time to change the subject. “Did you enjoy tea at Mrs. Wellington’s?”

“I did,” Jillian said. “Very much.”

“So did I,” Rebecca said. “She is a nice lady, and so were the others she’d invited to meet us. Too bad she didn’t do that when we first got here. Most likely, we’d have been invited to their homes, too.”

Have I always found something to complain about?
Abigail wondered. It seemed Rebecca couldn’t say anything nice about anyone without adding something negative. Surely she wasn’t always that way. Abigail was more than relieved when the two women went back to their room to finish getting ready, and she sent Bea with them, happily. At least she’d finally learned how to dress herself!

❧

Marcus ran a finger along the starched collar of his shirt. He hadn’t paid a bit of attention to the musical. All he’d been thinking about was keeping Abigail safe when the plan he and the chief had come up with went into action. When the curtain came down on the final act and the gaslights were turned up, he was relieved to see the agents he’d assigned to the opera house in position. They were there in case Ackerman became suspicious before they got outside. Marcus knew police officers were stationed just outside the door, waiting for him to give the signal.

He and Abigail were behind Ackerman, who was behind the others in the group. Marcus noticed Ackerman looking around as if he suspected something was up and held his breath as they went through the doors to the outside. Once they’d cleared the doorway, he stepped in front of Abigail to shield her in case there was trouble and called out, “Ackerman!”

When the man turned, four policemen immediately surrounded him and had him in cuffs. “What is this? What’s going on! Wellington, you have something to do with this?”

The chief came up to him. “John Baxter, you are under arrest for the murder of Marie Baxter.”

“What! My good man, I am Robert Ackerman. Just ask my friends here. They’ll tell you!”

“His name is—,” Reginald began.

“John Baxter,” the chief interrupted. “He’s only been going by Robert Ackerman for about two and a half years. How long have you known him?”

“About two years,” Edward replied.

“And do you know where he came from?”

“Well. . .I. . .”

“He came from Kansas, where he shot and killed his last wife.” The chief turned back to Robert. “Take him away, boys. Let’s put him where he belongs.”