A Match of Wits (15 page)

Unfortunately, Mary sprang immediately back to her feet and grabbed the other end of the dress form, and a rather strange game of tug-of-war commenced. Just when she thought she was getting the best of Mary, a gentleman’s outraged voice rang out.

“Ladies, good heavens, this is hardly acceptable behavior. Brawling is not permitted within the confines of B. Altman’s, nor are pigs permitted. And I, Mr. Dowry, as manager of this fine establishment, am going to have to insist you let go of that dress form at once. Authorities have already been summoned, but if you cooperate . . .”

Whatever else Mr. Dowry was about to say was lost when two women suddenly appeared, dressed in charming gowns and looking exactly like proper ladies should look, but on closer inspection, the women turned out to be Mary’s cohorts, Jessie and Hannah.

Chaos was immediate as the two ladies entered the brawl.

“Jessie, get the pig. Hannah, get the man,” Mary yelled as she shoved the dress form into Agatha’s middle, making Agatha immensely glad she was wrapped in stuffing.

Trying to get a better hold, Agatha’s fingers curled around
the dress right as she gave a good yank. A distinctive ripping noise sounded, and a second later, she found herself holding a tattered and torn slip of silk that had only moments before been a rather lovely gown. She glanced to Mary and found that woman grinning smugly back at her, the dress form solely in her clutches.

“That was an expensive piece of silk,” Mr. Dowry howled, “and you mark my words, one of you will pay me the full cost of the creation, because it was very—” His words were abruptly cut off when Hannah began pelting him with clothing she grabbed from a rack.

Agatha threw the pieces of silk to the ground and took a step toward Mary, only to be stopped dead in her tracks when an arm snaked around her throat.

“Not so fast,” Jessie rasped in her ear.

“Let go of her.”

Agatha opened her mouth to demand that Eliza, who’d just rushed onto the scene, flee and not get involved, but the arm around her throat took that moment to tighten, and all she was able to get out was a feeble croak.

“Hold on, Agatha. I’m coming,” Drusilla shouted.

Fear sliced through her when she heard Eliza let out a yelp, but the fear was immediately replaced with rage. This was her city, these were her friends, and she certainly wasn’t going to let someone strangle her in the middle of B. Altman’s.

Shoving an elbow into Jessie’s ribs, satisfaction mingled with the rage when the arm around her throat disappeared and Jessie stumbled backward and landed on the floor. Pushing her sleeves up, Agatha set her sights on Hannah, who was engaged in what appeared to be a duel with Eliza—both women, oddly enough, using parasols. A strong grip on her arm had Agatha turning as she balled her hand into a fist,
but she stopped herself from swinging when she realized it was only Mr. Dowry who was gazing back at her with clear horror in his eyes.

“I don’t mean to cause you undue alarm, Madame, but I do believe the shock of all this has caused your . . . umm . . . child . . . to want to make an appearance. Might I suggest you abandon this madness and immediately seek out a doctor, because the dress department at B. Altman’s is no place to deliver a baby, and . . . think of the mess.”

Glancing down, Agatha felt the strangest desire to laugh. Evidently, in the midst of the ruckus her stuffing had slipped and was even now slowly drifting below her stomach.

It was little wonder Mr. Dowry was looking at her with such concern.

Knowing there was no help for it, because the stuffing was hampering her efforts to help her friends, Agatha shook out of his hold, bent over, lifted her skirts, and yanked out the linens. Ignoring Mr. Dowry’s gasp of outrage and deciding she might as well be fully prepared for whatever was ahead, she slipped her pistol out from the garter on her leg and straightened.

“Imposter!” Mr. Dowry bellowed.

Wishing she had a moment to explain matters to the distraught man but knowing now was hardly the time, she dashed past him and headed for Eliza, who was now soundly beating Hannah over the head with a parasol while Hannah yelled at the top of her lungs.

A shot had everyone freezing in their tracks.

Turning, Agatha found Mary and Drusilla facing each other, both ladies holding pistols in their hands, but only Mary’s was smoking.

Drusilla had lost her wig somewhere along the way, and
her hair was hanging around her face, but her expression was hard and her eyes were blazing. “You missed,” she said in a voice that had turned deadly. “Now put your hands up and we’ll end this nicely.”

“Shoot, Jessie!” Mary screamed right before she ducked, a shot sounded behind Agatha, Drusilla dropped to the ground, and Matilda began squealing.

Another shot rang out.

“Not the pig, you fool!” Mary screeched from behind a rack. “We’ll only get paid if we kill Miss Watson.”

Crouching as she ran, Agatha reached Drusilla’s side and, to her relief, found Drusilla’s eyes open. “How badly are you hurt?”

“I’m not shot,” Drusilla whispered. “When I say move, jump to the right.”

“What?”

“Move.”

Suddenly finding herself on her backside as Drusilla jumped to her feet, Agatha could only stare in amazement at Drusilla, who was once again pointing a pistol at Mary. “Put your hands where I can see them, and tell your friends to stand down.”

Slowly raising her hands, Mary nodded to Jessie and Hannah. Hannah dropped the parasol she was holding, while Jessie lowered the pistol she was clutching in her hand.

“Very good,” Drusilla drawled. “Now, tell me what you meant when you said you’ll only get paid if you kill Miss Watson.”

“I don’t have to tell you nothing.”

“Were you responsible for trying to run Agatha over with a carriage?”

Mary frowned. “I don’t have a carriage.”

“But someone has hired you to kill Agatha?” Drusilla pressed.

Before Mary could reply, another shot rang out, this one coming from Hannah, and complete insanity took over B. Altman’s once again as bits of plaster began to fall from the ceiling, evidence that Hannah’s shot had gone wide.

“The ceiling’s about to collapse!” Agatha heard someone yell.

“Rogue pig, rogue pig!” another lady screamed.

A loud squeal followed that announcement, and a flash of relief darted through Agatha as she realized Matilda was still alive and apparently running for her life, leaving frantic customers in her wake. Pushing herself to her feet, she looked around for Mary, finally catching sight of the woman rushing down an aisle with Drusilla giving chase, Matilda galloping after them.

Hitching up her skirt, she started forward, her path impeded by ladies scrambling to get out of the store. Darting around a lady screaming something about a pig and the unacceptable shopping experience she was having, Agatha set her sights on the door, but she skidded to a halt when the entrance suddenly filled with policemen. Before she could make a discreet exit, her arm was taken in another firm grip by none other than Mr. Dowry.

“I told you the police had been summoned, missy,” he said with a distinct trace of glee in his voice. “Never in all my years of being a manager have I ever had the misfortune to witness such an abhorrent display of behavior, especially from what I assumed were ladies of quality.”

He lifted a hand and summoned a policeman. “Here’s the lady responsible for this disaster, officer. I expect her to be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”

Sending Agatha a glare and ignoring her sputtered protests, he thrust her directly at the policeman. Letting out a distinctive sniff, Mr. Dowry drew himself up. “Furthermore, you are forever, from this moment forward, banned from this establishment—as is that pig.”

A
nd then, once you get older, I promise to take you sailing, my darling girl. You’ll love the feel of the sea mist in your hair.”

“While I find your attention to Viola quite adorable,” Gloria said from the chair she’d pulled up next to his bed, “she fell asleep a good thirty minutes ago. I’m really going to have to insist you allow me to take her off to the nursery, because it’s past time you and I had a bit of a chat.”

Glancing down, Zayne gazed at his brand-new niece, her tiny face peaceful in sleep, her rosy lips puckered ever so slightly. He’d fallen in love with the baby the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but . . . his mother was right. He’d been talking nonstop to his niece ever since Hamilton and Eliza had brought her over for a visit, and he’d been doing so to avoid questions from his obviously annoyed mother.

“We really shouldn’t move her,” he finally said. “She’s sleeping so well at the moment.”

“She’ll be fine,” Hamilton said, driving through the door in Charlotte’s invention, which he pulled to a smooth stop
before he grinned. “This cart she made for you is amazing, and I found the brakes. You just push the elevated pedal on the floor forward.” Climbing out, Hamilton ran his hand over the polished wood. “Agatha probably didn’t find it since she’s short.”

“Ah, I’m so glad you brought up Agatha,” Gloria said, getting to her feet. She reached out and gently took Viola straight out of Zayne’s arms. “I’m taking Viola to the nursery, and when I get back, the three of us are going to discuss the troubling situation Zayne’s landed himself in.”

“You can’t just drop Viola off in the nursery,” Zayne argued. “Hamilton and Eliza didn’t bring their nanny with them, and since Eliza has yet to return, well, it wouldn’t be safe for the baby.”

“Which is why it’s such a lucky circumstance that Mrs. Johnson is here today. She’s perfectly capable of watching over Viola, considering she used to watch over Piper and Ben.”

“But . . .”

“Zayne, enough,” Gloria said, stepping around Hamilton as she walked with Viola cradled in her arms to the door. “Your stalling tactics have now come to an end.”

Unwilling to be thwarted just yet in his attempt at avoiding what was certainly going to be an unpleasant chat, Zayne summoned up a good moan, one of his best yet, and slumped against the pillows. “I’m feeling faint.”

“You should be feeling ridiculous,” Gloria said over her shoulder before she disappeared through the door.

“Nice try.” Hamilton moved to sit in the chair Gloria had just vacated before he grinned. “If you ask me, Mother’s shown a great deal of restraint so far. I was expecting her to take Viola to the nursery an hour ago.”

Shifting against the pillows, Zayne blew out a breath.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you conveniently left me alone with her.”

“I figured it was in my best interest to do so, but she surprised me by remaining mute the whole time I was fiddling with Charlotte’s invention outside the door.”

“You could have fiddled in here.”

“Now you’re just being sulky.”

Not caring to address that statement, because he’d clearly heard the sulk in his tone, Zayne gestured to the cart. “What do you think about that? Is it safe?”

Stretching out his legs, Hamilton folded his hands over his stomach. “I don’t think I’d go so far as to claim it’s safe. Charlotte’s gotten a bit too ambitious if you ask me, adding all those levers and cranks. But, if you take the time to learn how to operate it, you shouldn’t come to any extensive harm.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Hamilton smiled. “Yes, well, hazardous carts aside, tell me what really happened with Agatha.”

Knowing there was no point in refusing his brother’s request, Zayne began filling Hamilton in on what had transpired, finishing with, “So Agatha took great exception to the fact I’d written down that one of the gentlemen had nice teeth, and the situation quickly went downhill from there.”

“Please tell me you didn’t actually think that the state of a gentleman’s teeth would make him a good choice for Agatha,” Gloria said as she marched back into the room, stepped in front of the chair Hamilton was sitting in, and waved him out of it.

“I just got comfortable,” Hamilton grumbled, rising to his feet before Gloria sat down.

“I’m old, and I was sitting there first,” Gloria grumbled right back before she set her sights on Zayne. “You know,
darling, out of all three of my children, you were the one who never caused me a moment’s trouble until recently. You were always pleasant, considerate, and charming to the ladies, even if you were a little naïve when it came to dealing with them. Now, however, it’s clear you’ve decided to make up for that less-than-troublesome past.”

“I’m not naïve when it comes to the ladies.”

Arching a brow, Gloria rolled her eyes. “You are, and while I always found that to be rather delightful and refreshing, I’ve now come to the conclusion that I failed you miserably as your mother by not setting you straight.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s clear you don’t understand the least little thing about women, and because of that, I’m afraid you might have just lost Agatha for good this time.”

Hamilton got up from the chair he’d just sat down in. “I think I should go check on Viola.”

“Sit,” Gloria barked with a finger pointed to the chair.

“I don’t know why you’re being snippy with me, Mother,” Hamilton said, lowering back into the chair. “I haven’t caused you any trouble since I married Eliza.”

Gloria waved that away with a swish of her hand. “You, being Zayne’s brother, are going to assist me with his education.”

“I left school a long time ago,” Zayne said slowly.

“Well, you apparently didn’t learn anything of importance there—so listen up.”

Zayne opened his mouth, intent on arguing, but then felt it gape open farther when understanding finally set in. “You’re up to your old matchmaking tricks.”

“So what if I am?”

“That’s why you left me alone so much with Agatha, which,
now that I think about it, was somewhat odd and barely appropriate.”

“I hardly needed to keep a close eye on the two of you, Zayne,” Gloria said. “You’ve always been very proper, and I know you’d never behave in an untoward manner. Why, look at you and Helena. I don’t think the two of you ever got around to stealing so much as the occasional kiss.”

Heat began to creep up his neck and settle on his face. “You can’t know that for sure.”

Gloria gestured to his face. “The proof’s right in front of me.” She settled back into the chair. “I truly hoped that you’d come to your senses about Helena, but when you didn’t and traipsed out to join her in California, well, I could only leave it in God’s hands and pray He’d sort the mess out.”

“He certainly did that.”

“Yes, He did, although in a very unusual way, as He’s often prone to do. But, my expectations for you and a happy future increased tremendously after your recent accident, in that it allowed you to spend so much time with Agatha. However, since you’re evidently a little dense when it comes to matters of the heart, I’ve realized I’ve been completely negligent in leaving you to your own devices, and it’s past time I corrected that situation.”

“Forgive me, Mother, but did you just call me
dense
?”

“Indeed I did, and so you are.” Gloria nodded. “Everyone, except for you, has always known your perfect match is Agatha, and yet you’ve made a muck of it now.”

“I thought I’d been perfectly clear regarding the fact I’m content to remain a bachelor.”

“You’re the least suited gentleman I know to embrace bachelorhood,” Gloria countered. “Why, one only has to look at you and Viola to see you’d make a perfect father,
would relish that position, but you’re going to need a wife in order to do that.”

“Since my siblings seem completely capable of supplying me with an adequate number of nieces and nephews, I can get my fill of babies anytime.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Gloria argued before she turned to Hamilton. “Tell him.”

“I would prefer to just remain an observer to this conversation, if you don’t mind, Mother.”

“I do mind, and you, as Zayne’s
older
brother, need to explain to him exactly how he should go about winning the love of his life, who is Agatha, if you’ve missed that pertinent point.”

Hamilton simply sat there until Gloria snapped her fingers in his direction. “Now would be a good time, if you please.”

Leaning forward, Hamilton sent Zayne a look that had apology written all over it. “Ah, well, ladies can be tricky, but I found that . . .”

“Let me spare you the embarrassment of this little speech Mother’s demanding you make, Hamilton,” Zayne said. “I’m hesitant to take any advice from you since I remember all too well the fiasco you went through with Eliza, and . . . again, I’m not looking to get married, which is what prompted me to create that list. Agatha needs a strong and capable gentleman, one who won’t hesitate to put an end to her shenanigans in order to keep her safe.”

“No truer words have ever been spoken.”

Looking up, Zayne found Theodore Wilder standing in the doorway, a smile on his handsome face, but no Arabella by his side.

“Where’s my sister?” Zayne asked.

Moving into the room, Theodore nodded to Hamilton, kissed Gloria’s hand, which had her blushing, and pulled up a
chair. Sitting down, his smile widened. “Arabella is napping, and no, there’s nothing wrong with her, she’s simply tired, which can be expected these days.” He looked around. “Where’s Agatha?”

“She’s not here at the moment,” Gloria said.

Theodore’s smile disappeared in a flash. “What do you mean, not here?”

Gloria crossed her arms over her chest. “She got into a huge tiff with Zayne and went out to get a bit of air.”

Rising to his feet, Theodore headed for the door but stopped when Hamilton called him back. “She’s with Drusilla, and she’s in disguise.”

“And you think I’m going to find that comforting?” Theodore asked from the doorway.

“Eliza went after them in the carriage, and I’m sure, given that she hasn’t returned yet, she found them and the ladies are probably even now chatting up a storm, disparaging gentlemen in general as they drive around the city.”

Shaking his head, Theodore returned to his seat, although he seemed to do so reluctantly. “It seems highly irresponsible of Drusilla to allow Agatha to leave the house, even if they did so in disguise. Drusilla knows the danger Agatha’s in, and she also knows we’re no closer to discovering who wants Agatha dead than we were last year.”

“You don’t have any leads?” Hamilton asked.

“We have plenty of leads,” Theodore corrected. “Agatha’s managed the uncommon feat—due to her writing, no doubt—of enraging countless people in the city, but no one is talking. My informants on the streets haven’t heard a single whisper about who’s behind the threats, which makes the situation all that more disconcerting.” He began to drum his fingers on the chair. “That’s why I don’t understand how Drusilla could have allowed Agatha out of the house.”

“She was feeling guilty,” Gloria said.

“Guilty?”

“I’m afraid so, dear. I noticed her pushing Agatha in Zayne’s direction, and I must admit I didn’t do a thing to stop it.” She sent Theodore a wink. “Drusilla’s meddling allowed me the luxury of not being the annoying matchmaking mother for once. But since things didn’t go quite as Drusilla planned, given that Zayne turned ridiculous, well . . . guilt had her donning a disguise and going out with Agatha in the interest of keeping Agatha pacified
and
keeping her out of trouble.”

“She pacified Agatha by donning a disguise?” Theodore asked.

Hamilton laughed. “Come now, Theodore, surely you can figure out the reasoning behind that?”

“No, sorry, nothing’s coming to me.”

Laughing again, Hamilton nodded to Zayne. “Don’t you remember when Agatha did the same thing to Zayne, made him dress up as a lady even though there was no need for him to do so and even made him shave his chest in order to get into the true character of the disguise? It was her odd way of venting the annoyance she felt since he’d decided to join Helena. I can guarantee she did the same to Drusilla because she didn’t appreciate the lady’s matchmaking attempts.”

Something uncomfortable began to slither through Zayne. “Agatha always lent me the impression she was perfectly content to simply be my friend.”

“There you go, being naïve again,” Gloria said.

Zayne opened his mouth to put an end to all the nonsense once and for all, but his words stuck in his throat when Drusilla suddenly darted through the doorway, Eliza a step behind her with a limping Matilda bringing up the rear. He craned his neck but, when Agatha didn’t show up, turned
his attention back to Drusilla, who was now standing in the middle of the room, looking anything but composed—a condition that was downright disconcerting.

The wig he’d seen her leave the house in was nowhere to be found and her hair was sticking out all over her head. Her face sported streaks of what appeared to be blood, while her nose was red and swollen. Her gown was dirty, she was missing half of her sleeve, and when she moved forward, he noticed the heel from her left shoe seemed wobbly.