A Love All Her Own (3 page)

“What do you mean?”

“Just to make sure your windows lock, the door locks properly, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, all right. Thank you.”

The bellboy stopped outside a door just two away from the main staircase, and Mr. Wellington waited until the boy unlocked and opened it for Abigail. They entered a small sitting room with a bedroom off to the side. While the bellboy was explaining where everything was, Marcus made sure the locks on the windows were secure. He took the key from the young man and made sure that the door did lock, and then he handed it to Abigail.

The bellboy left, promising to bring up Abigail’s bags when they arrived, and Marcus stood just outside the door. “Is there anything I can get you, Miss Connors? Would you like company for dinner?”

“No, thank you. I’ll eat here at the hotel and have an early evening. I’m rather tired from the travel.”

“I’ve promised your father and my parents that I will bring you over tomorrow to meet them.”

Abigail had also promised her father that she would meet the Wellingtons and check in with them from time to time, so she agreed. “What time will be best for your mother?”

“She thought you might take tea with them in the afternoon, if that appeals to you.”

“Yes, that will be nice. What time?”

“I’ll pick you up about three o’clock, if that is acceptable.”

“That will be fine.”

Marcus turned just in time to see the bellboy and another young man bringing up a trunk. “Is that for Miss Connors?”

“Yes, sir. There are several more pieces, too.”

Marcus waited until the trunk and two more bags had been delivered to Abigail’s room. She had to admit she was glad he was there. She wasn’t used to strange men handling her things. She tipped the young men when the last bag was set down. ‘‘Thank you. Will you please ask the desk clerk to send someone up to help me unpack?”

“I’ll be glad to. Thank you, ma’am,” the first young man answered. They both smiled as they turned to go back downstairs.

“Everything is here?” Marcus asked her.

“Yes, I believe so. I’ll let you know if I find anything missing.”

He nodded. ‘‘Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then. And Miss Connors. . .”

“Yes?”

“Be assured that you’ll be safe here.” He tipped his hat and turned to leave.

Abigail still wasn’t sure how she felt about all her comings and goings being watched, but her father had insisted. “Thank you. I’m sure my father will be pleased.”

“Have a good evening.” Mr. Wellington tipped his hat to her and turned to go back downstairs.

Abigail closed her door and locked it. Then she crossed over to the windows that looked down on the street below. She wondered what was taking so long, but she watched until Mr. Wellington finally came out of the hotel. He was with several other men, and Abigail wondered if they would be some of the men he assigned to her. When he got to the street, he looked up toward her window, and Abigail quickly moved behind the drapes so that he wouldn’t know she saw him. He pulled out his pocket watch and looked at it then turned. He did not use one of the hackneys lined up outside, taking off on foot, instead. He crossed the street and headed back in the direction of the train depot. She wondered where his offices were. And she couldn’t help but wonder who he’d have watching over her. What surprised her most, however, was that although she didn’t like his cockiness one bit, she couldn’t deny that it made her feel better knowing he was in charge of making sure she was safe.

❧

Almost as soon as he’d met Miss Connors, Marcus had decided to make some changes in the assignments he’d given his men. Once downstairs in the lobby, he met with the agents he’d assigned to watch over Abigail Connors during her stay. His free agents had been there, reading papers when he brought her in so they could see what she looked like.

Now he handed out assignments on what days and times they’d be responsible for watching her—with one change. “Benson, I’m going to take over the responsibility of escorting her wherever she needs to go, and it has nothing to do with your capabilities. I have a feeling Miss Connors could be slightly demanding, and since she is the daughter of the man who helped me get this business started, I feel I’m the one who should deal with all that. I’ll have you assigned to watch her while she’s here during the day. Nelson, you have evening duty for this week. You can leave at midnight. Morgan, you’re in charge of days this weekend. Ross, you’ll take the evenings. If anything changes or I think we need to make adjustments, I’ll let you know. I’d like a report on my desk from you all an hour after your shift is finished.” They each nodded their agreement, and then, Marcus and all but Benson headed outside.

He stopped outside and looked up to the window of Abigail Connors’s room. Marcus had had many a client stay in the same hotel and knew right where to look. He and his men were all going in different directions, and Marcus’s long strides took him straight to the telegraph office, where he sent a telegram to Jacob Connors to let him know his daughter had arrived in Hot Springs and settled in her hotel safely. All this would be much easier if there were long-distance lines between the two cities—but Eureka Springs didn’t even have phone service yet.

After meeting Abigail Connors in person, Marcus could certainly see why Jacob wanted someone to watch over her. On first meeting, she seemed quite confident and independent, but looking into her eyes, Marcus could see a sadness and vulnerability that told him there was much more to her than first appeared. He fought the urge to go back and check on her; she would be safe with Benson. Instead, he went back to his office and looked over the telegrams he’d just picked up. Evidently, Luke was back in town because the agent reports had been sorted and put on his desk. Marcus looked them over and studied his scheduling for the rest of the week. Abigail Connors wasn’t the only client he was responsible for, and he needed to check in with other agents before he could call it a night.

Through it all, in the back of his mind, he kept thinking about the beautiful woman in his care, and he couldn’t help but wonder just who broke the engagement and why.

Three

Abigail wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself once Marcus Wellington left. She liked the rooms she’d been given. The small sitting room had a settee in front of a fireplace and a writing desk by the window. A nice round table sat in the center of the room, with two chairs on either side of it, where she supposed she could have breakfast if she didn’t want to go to the dining room downstairs. The room was beautifully decorated in different shades of blues and greens and felt soothing to her.

Abigail went into the bedroom to find the same colors on the drapes at the windows and on the bed. It was a very nice room. She spotted her trunk and bags at the end of the bed and quickly realized that the desk clerk had not sent anyone up to help her yet. She found the electric bell that she’d been told rang through to the office about the time a knock sounded on the sitting room door.

It was the maid come to help her. The young woman smiled. “Good evening, ma’am. I’ve been sent to help you get settled in.”

“Good. I’d just rung the bell to remind the clerk.” Before Abigail could let her in and shut the door, the bellboy who’d brought her things was there. “You rang, ma’am?”

“I did. I suppose I should have waited five minutes longer. I don’t need anything now, thank you.”

“All right. Just ring again if you do decide you need anything.”

“Thank you, I will.” Abigail noticed that his parting smile seemed to be centered on the young maid waiting for Abigail’s directions. She waved to the bellboy and turned to the maid. “Will you be on duty tomorrow?”

The young woman bobbed her head. “Yes, ma’am, I will.”

“I’d like you to arrange for my frocks to be pressed, then.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do that first thing tomorrow morning.”

She opened the trunk first as it held all of her frocks, and she would need one to change into when she went to dinner. Even though the maid was helpful, Abigail wondered why she hadn’t brought her housekeeper. Abigail wasn’t used to doing things like this herself. Well, she wasn’t exactly doing it by herself, but neither was she used to doing things like this at all.

But she had assured her parents that she was self-sufficient,
and she was determined to be just that—no matter how
inconvenient it was. They thought she couldn’t look after herself as it was; otherwise, they wouldn’t have hired Marcus Wellington’s agency to keep an eye on her.

She shook out one of her favorite walking dresses and handed it to the maid to hang in the wardrobe. Then she brought out a dinner dress for the girl to hang beside it. It took over an hour just to get her trunk unpacked, and her stomach was beginning to rumble. “Thank you, Miss—what is your name?”

“My name is Bea, ma’am. It’s short for Beatrice. Fielding is my last name.”

“Well, Bea, my name is Abigail Connors. Do you work every day?”

The young maid shook her head. “No, ma’am. I’ve just been hired to fill in when the other maids are off work.”

“What kind of work have you done?”

“I was personal maid for Mrs. Rothschild until she passed away a few weeks back. I took care of her clothing and helped her with her hair. . .and was there when she needed me.”

“Hmm,” Abigail said. “When you have free time, perhaps I’ll be able to use you to help me from time to time with my hair, to keep my frocks pressed, and to run errands. Would you be interested in doing that?”

“Oh yes, ma’am! I’d love to help you when I can.”

“I’ll need to check your references.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand. I can give you a list. Would you want it now, or is tomorrow soon enough?”

“Tomorrow will be fine.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You are welcome.” Abigail looked around at her baggage. The trunk was empty, and she thought she could manage her bags. “I’ll finish this up myself. Just stop by tomorrow to see about getting the most wrinkled frocks pressed for me and to give me your references.”

“I will. Have a good evening, Miss Connors.”

“Thank you. You have a nice one, too.”

After the maid left, Abigail checked her hair and pinched her cheeks. She was starving and didn’t have the energy to change for just an hour. Normally, she never would have thought of having dinner in the same dress she’d been traveling in, but the freedom of not knowing anyone in town was very liberating. Tired as she was, all Abigail wanted to do was have a good supper and come back to her room.

She headed down to the dining room, and once there, she was shown to a table in an alcove and seated facing out into the room. She was quite pleased. It was out of the way enough that she wouldn’t feel out of place eating alone, yet she could see other diners plainly so that she didn’t feel quite so alone. The waiter handed her a menu, and she was impressed with the selection the hotel offered.

She chose the veal cutlets with brown sauce and riced potatoes. For dessert, she chose lemon pie. As she waited for her meal, she took in the luxurious decor and was quite happy with her selection of hotels. She didn’t think any of the others in town could be any nicer.

From the soft murmur of voices and the gentle clink of silverware, the hotel’s clientele seemed quite sophisticated and genteel. Abigail was not made to feel uncomfortable at all for being by herself, and for that, she was quite thankful. She did see a man across the way keep looking at her, but she had a feeling he was the agent hired to watch over her. She had the impression from meeting Marcus Wellington that he didn’t do anything by half measure, and she was certain that he would have her watched no matter where she went outside her room. She was a little surprised by the comfort that thought gave her.

Abigail actually enjoyed her dinner. The meal was delicious and the service outstanding. Best of all, she was able to watch the other diners without worrying that they might be discussing her broken engagement. If they were discussing her at all, they might be wondering who she was, but as she was at a hotel and the other guests weren’t from Hot Springs, they probably weren’t thinking of her at all. There was something very freeing about that thought.

That the wealthy frequented Hot Springs was evident in the way the guests were dressed, and Abigail would be certain to dress in a like manner while she was at the hotel. But as no one knew her, she wasn’t going to worry about wearing her traveling clothes this evening. Instead, she just let herself enjoy the meal and the comings and goings of the other guests.

❧

Marcus had supper at one of the restaurants down the street from the Arlington Hotel. He hadn’t been able to get Abigail Connors off his mind all evening, and it bothered him a great deal that he was still thinking about her. At first, he told himself it was because she was a new client and he just wanted to make sure everything went well—as he would any other client.

But from the moment he’d first seen Abigail, he knew she would be no ordinary client. Maybe it was because she was Jacob’s daughter, or maybe it was because she was alone here in Hot Springs and he felt even more responsibility for her. He didn’t know. All he was certain of was that he’d been thinking of her ever since he left the hotel. In the back of his mind were all the questions he’d like answered. He wanted to know why her wedding had been called off and why she was traveling alone. Why did she feel the need to leave Eureka Springs? And why was he so interested in her?

Marcus chided himself. Probably his investigative personality had his mind working overtime—that was all. But when he left the restaurant in time to meet his agents as they switched shifts at eight o’clock, he had a feeling it was more than that.

Benson was in the lobby, waiting for Nelson, when Marcus arrived. He put down the paper he was reading when Marcus took a seat beside him. “How’s it going?”

“It’s been quiet. Miss Connors came down for dinner and just went back up about ten minutes ago.”

“Hmm. I would have thought she might eat in her room tonight.”

“No, sir. She came down and had a leisurely meal. She seemed interested in watching the people around her and appeared quite at ease at a table by herself.”

Perhaps she was more confident and independent than her father thought she was. “Well, I’m glad she had a good evening and is safe and sound back in her room,” Marcus said. “I’m not sure everything will be quite so calm in the days to come.”

“Most likely not,” Benson said. “In this line of work, it usually isn’t.” Nelson arrived just then, and Benson filled him in on the calm night.

“I could use some quiet time after the last client I was assigned to,” Nelson said as he settled into the chair Benson had just vacated. It had the best view of the stairs and the front desk.

They all laughed. Nelson’s last client had been a wealthy woman with three spoiled children. As it turned out, her husband had apparently hired the Wellington Agency to watch his children while his wife went to the bathhouses for relaxation. Marcus assured both men, “Don’t worry. I’ve got that name on my never-again list.”

“Good thing, ’cause I’d have to decline the opportunity to do it again,” Nelson said.

“Can’t say I’d blame you,” Marcus said as he and Benson turned to leave. “Have a good night.”

He and Benson parted ways just outside the hotel, and Marcus found himself looking up at Miss Connors’s hotel window. He wondered what she thought of Hot Springs and what kind of mood she’d be in the next day. He couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to finding out.

❧

By the time Abigail got back to her room, she was ready for a good night’s rest. She climbed into bed and pulled up her covers, but it didn’t take long before Abigail realized that she wasn’t going to drift off into a peaceful sleep as she’d hoped. In the dark of the night and alone in a strange place, she began to think about home and all she had lost in the last few weeks.

Abigail fought the sudden urge to cry, but the hot tears won and cascaded down her cheeks. Brushing them away with the back of her hand, Abigail turned over and crunched her pillow, but she couldn’t turn off her thoughts. The past was over with, and she needed to get on with her future. She wasn’t sure she could.

For so long, she’d felt guilty about her sister’s death. . .and now she knew her niece blamed her for it as well. . .even though it hadn’t been her fault. She truly had been trying to save Rose when she’d followed her up the stairs and grabbed her arm and tried to get her to come with her the day of the fire. When Rose pulled away, she lost her balance and fell down the stairs. It hadn’t been Abigail’s fault, yet she knew she would always feel she could have, should have done something else—only she didn’t know what.

Rose had been determined to save her keepsakes, telling Abigail that she’d be right back. But even had Abigail left her alone and let her go, she wouldn’t have gotten out in time. The result would have been the same, and Abigail still would have blamed herself. If there was anything she should feel guilty about that day, it was that she’d envied her sister and wanted the life she had, but she had never
ever
wished her gone. And she had truly tried to convince Rose to get out in time.

Deep down, Abigail knew all that, but she would never forget seeing her sister fall down the stairs, rushing to help, only to find that Rose was badly hurt. All she could do when Rose told her to get Natalie to safety was just that—and hope she’d have time to come back and get her sister out. But that wasn’t to be. By the time she’d turned around, the house was in flames. Abigail shuddered, remembering that sight in vivid detail. She would never forget that day. What really broke her heart was that now her niece remembered that day, too, and she wasn’t likely to forget it. And in Natalie’s mind, Abigail was to blame.

Abigail wished she could change the past, but there was no way that could be done. And she had no one but herself to blame for the heartache. There was no keeping the tears back, and she began to sob for the past, for the present, and for the future she’d wished for but lost.

❧

Abigail didn’t wake until midmorning, but she was relieved to have the night over with. Even after her tears had subsided, she’d tossed and turned. Now she washed her face and could only hope that some of the puffiness around her eyes would go down before she met the Wellingtons.

She was pleased when Bea kept her word and came to take her dresses to be pressed. Bea handed her the list of references and told her that she’d try to come back that afternoon to help with her hair. As it was past midmorning but she was still not very hungry, Abigail sent a lunch order of tea and the soup of the day down to the kitchen with Bea, to be sent up at noon.

Abigail finished unpacking the bags she’d been too exhausted to deal with the night before, quite pleased that she managed to do it all herself. The thought that she really was quite spoiled came to mind, but she didn’t let it stay there long. She didn’t much like the picture it gave of herself.

After she’d freshened up, she was pleased that her lunch arrived right on time, and she thought about the day ahead as she ate her split pea soup and enjoyed her pot of tea. She was looking forward to meeting the Wellingtons. She’d realized just how alone she was during her long night, and she would be glad to have someone to call on if needed. At least they were old friends of her parents, and she hoped that would make it easier to get to know them.

Bea brought her gowns up just after one o’clock and was able to stay and help with preparations for attending the Wellingtons’ tea. She brushed Abigail’s hair to a bright shine and then pulled it up, twisted and turned it, and pinned it on top of her head. Bea explained each step so that Abigail could attempt to do it herself if Bea wasn’t available. The maid pulled a few curls out around Abigail’s face, and Abigail was very pleased with the results.

“Thank you, Bea. I’ll try to do it myself tomorrow morning for church.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to. Just brush, pull up, and twist.”

“I think that sounds easier than it is, but I’ll try.” After all, she was going to be here awhile. She wasn’t going to have someone at her disposal all the time. She thought of hiring a personal maid—after all, many people traveled with their personal staff. Somehow that only reinforced the fact that she
was
very spoiled, and for some reason, she didn’t want the Wellingtons to see her that way.