A Most Peculiar Circumstance (14 page)

Samuel’s face went from red to purple. “You think I should thank you? Are you aware that your mother and sister are spending the evening dining with the Beckett family instead of being home where they belong? Add to that the pesky little fact that Mr. and Mrs. Watson have also been included, and I shudder to think what nonsense Louise will be spouting once she does come home.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Watson are very nice,” Theodore said. “In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t socialized with them before. Mr. Watson adores everything to do with the financial markets, and he would welcome an opportunity to seek your advice.”

“I’m very aware of the fact that Roger Watson is a capital gentleman, Theodore,” Samuel said. “But his wife, on the other hand . . .” He shuddered and took a deep breath. “I have no idea why Roger would permit his wife to associate on a regular basis with Gloria Beckett.”

“I would have to believe that Mrs. Watson never bothered to ask her husband if she could become friends with Mrs. Beckett,” Theodore said. “But Mr. Watson was wise enough to know he needed to accept Gloria if he wished to remain in accord with his wife. Besides, I’ve come to know the woman quite well, and I find her enchanting.”

Samuel wiped his brow with the back of his hand and,
glaring at Theodore, lowered himself into a chair. “You think I should simply go along with your mother’s madness?”

“If you don’t want to continue getting locked out of your own house, yes.”

The sound of running feet caused Theodore to shove his chair back and get to his feet just as Eliza rushed into the room, accompanied by a woman who looked slightly familiar. He narrowed his eyes as Eliza skidded to a halt in front of him and placed one hand on his desk while she used the other to press against what must be a stitch in her side.

She tilted her head and peered at him through hair that had somehow managed to escape its pins. “I need your help.”

He lifted a brow. “That’s obvious.”

She dropped her gaze, brushed the hair out of her face, and turned her head ever so slightly before he heard her suck in a loud gulp of air. She suddenly straightened, her hands clenched, and then she lifted her chin, batted almost-innocent eyes at him, and let out a giggle.

Eliza never giggled.

She laughed, snorted, grunted, and raged in a temper from time to time, but not once since he’d made her acquaintance had he ever heard her giggle.

Something dire was obviously afoot.

“I do beg your pardon,” she practically purred, which was also something Eliza never did. “I was somewhat distracted and didn’t realize you have company. Violet and I will just be on our way.”

Violet, that’s who the other lady was, and . . . he knew her from the streets.

Something definitely was afoot.

He walked around his desk and took Eliza’s arm, staring down into her now-perspiring face. “What happened?”

“It’s not terribly important, and there’s no need to involve you in it. If you’ll excuse us, we’ll just be on our way.”

He tightened his grip. “You’re not going anywhere until you explain exactly what you’re doing here and why you’re here with that lady.”

Eliza’s expression turned stubborn. “It’s a bit of a tricky situation, but Violet is a friend of mine and sought out my help when a slightly disturbing incident took place. Since you have guests, I’m not comfortable going into all the troubling details.”

“These gentlemen aren’t exactly guests. That’s my father, Mr. Samuel Wilder, and that’s my brother-in-law, Mr. Harold Gibson.”

He wasn’t certain, but he thought he heard her mutter something that sounded very much like “This is awkward” before she glanced at Harold, turned rather pale, and then squared her shoulders. “Gentlemen, it was lovely to see everyone this evening, but I truly do believe the best option at this point would be for me to go find Hamilton.”

“Hamilton’s missing?” Theodore asked.

“Not at all. He’s working late with Zayne, but they’re away from the office. That’s actually why I came here, but apparently, given the fact you have company, I’m going to have to see if I can run him to ground.”

“I say, am I to understand you’re Mrs. Hamilton Beckett?” Harold asked.

Eliza nodded, bit her lip, and dipped into a curtsy as Harold bowed in her direction. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Gibson.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Beckett. I’ve been meaning to pay you and your husband a visit. I have quite a few investment strategies to share with you.”

Theodore felt his teeth clink together. “Harold, this is hardly the appropriate moment to sell your services.”

“Where are you manners, Theodore?” Samuel said as he rose to his feet and sent Theodore a look of disgust. “Honestly,
I assumed this was a mere client, but . . . to find out she’s Mrs. Beckett, the newly arrived aristocrat from London, well, I must beg your pardon for not getting to my feet sooner, my dear.”

What was wrong with everyone tonight? It was clear from Eliza’s attitude that something was dreadfully amiss, and here his father and brother-in-law were acting as if they should be sitting down to tea with the lady.

He pushed aside his aggravation. “I am sorry, Father, for not paying proper attention to the social necessities. This is, indeed, Mrs. Hamilton Beckett, and I believe Eliza said the woman with her is Violet.”

Violet sent him a cheeky grin from her position by the door, and he felt his lips twitch when he realized she’d been edging her way back to the door ever since Eliza had acknowledged his guests.

“It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Wilder,” Eliza said. “Your son was of great assistance to me when I first entered the country, and that is why I’ve sought out his counsel this evening. Having said that, I do believe I may have overreacted to the situation, and now, if you’ll excuse me, Violet and I will be on our way. Good evening.” She shook off Theodore’s hold, strode to Violet’s side, and began pulling the woman closer to the door.

“Has Agatha gotten herself into trouble again?” Theodore called, causing Eliza to pause on the threshold and turn.

“Why would you assume that?”

“Process of elimination.”

“Maybe I’m here concerning Zayne.”

“You said he was working late with Hamilton.”

“It really is unfortunate you’re so bright.”

“What was that?” Theodore asked.

“Nothing,” Eliza replied as she began moving once again. “We’ll just see ourselves out. Have a good night.”

“Is she in jail?”

Eliza stopped, turned, and released a dramatic sigh. “Why would you assume someone’s in jail?”

“Because it’s late, you’ve opted to seek me out, and you’re in the company of a rather questionable character,” Theodore said before he smiled at Violet. “No offense meant, of course, Violet.”

“None taken, Mr. Wilder,” Violet said.

Theodore returned his attention to Eliza, who, much to his amusement, appeared to be slowly scooting back through the door. “So, Agatha’s landed herself in jail again. Is she alone?”

“You’re very annoying,” Eliza said, pausing in mid-scoot.

He arched a brow.

Eliza threw up her hands. “Fine, you’re right, Agatha’s in jail.”

“And?” Theodore prompted.

“And what?”

“Is she alone?”

Eliza shot a look to Harold, and then for some odd reason turned her attention to the ceiling as if she found it incredibly interesting. “Of course she’s not completely alone, Theodore. I’m sure there are other people in jail with her.”

Why were women such difficult creatures, and why did it seem as if he was constantly engaged in a battle of wits with them lately?

“Would one of these other people just happen to be Arabella Beckett?”

Eliza’s perusal of the ceiling ended as she winced. “Arabella might be with Agatha.”

“Are you suggesting Miss Arabella Beckett is currently residing in the city jail?” Harold blustered.

“I wish it was only a suggestion,” Eliza said before she lifted her chin and glanced at Violet. “We really should go.”

“Just how are you planning on getting Agatha and Arabella out of jail without my help?” Theodore asked.

“It can’t be that difficult,” Eliza said. “I did bring money. I’m certain the officials at the jail will be more than happy to divest me of it.”

“Why don’t you want me to go?” Theodore asked.

Eliza glanced once again to Harold, winced, and turned back to Theodore. “You have guests. It would be rude for you to abandon them.”

“My father-in-law and I will come with you,” Harold proclaimed.

“Why would you want to do that?” Eliza asked, panic now clearly visible in her voice. “It will hardly be a pleasant outing.”

“Pleasant outing or not,” Harold began, “observing Miss Beckett behind bars will give me the ammunition I need to encourage my wife to discontinue her association with the Beckett family.”

Eliza narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Gibson, I am now a member of the Beckett family, and I take great offense at your insinuation that they are somehow undesirable. They are a prominent New York family with abundant wealth at their disposal, and someone in your profession should certainly not throw aspersions on their good name. It would not serve you well to insult a family who has more than sufficient funds tied up in the stock market and in stocks I’m certain you represent.”

Harold’s lips thinned. “Your sister-in-law has been a bad influence on my wife. Katherine has not been herself ever since she made Miss Beckett’s acquaintance.”

“Your wife has spent relatively little time with Arabella,” Eliza said. “If she’s not been herself lately, I would have to believe the fault for that lies with you. Maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time carousing.”

Harold blinked. “Where did you hear that?”

Eliza shrugged. “Katherine mentioned it to me.”

“When did you have a conversation with my wife?”

Eliza turned to Violet. “Ready?”

Violet nodded.

Theodore strode forward and stepped in front of Eliza, effectively blocking her from the door.

“You really must step aside,” she hissed.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that just yet. When did you talk to Katherine?”

“I really shouldn’t say.”

Alarm began to snake through him. “Why not?”

“It wouldn’t be appropriate given your . . . guests.”

“Who else is with Agatha and Arabella in jail?”

Violet stepped forward. “I think Lottie and Hannah got snatched.”

Theodore could feel the vein begin to throb on his forehead and drew in a deep breath, trying to control the anger now coursing through him. “Forgive me, Violet, but you know your friends were not who I meant.”

“You’re not very attractive when you snarl like that, Mr. Wilder,” Violet said with a sniff before she looked at Eliza. “We should be on our way.”

“No one is going anywhere,” Theodore said, “until I learn exactly who is behind bars with Arabella and Agatha.”

“I demand someone explain what is going on,” Harold said, joining Theodore and looking from Eliza to Violet. “What does it matter who is with Miss Beckett and Miss Watson, unless . . .” Confusion clouded his eyes. “You’re not suggesting that Katherine and Louise are involved in this madness, are you?”

Before Theodore had a chance to reply, his father strode up to them and let out a chuckle. “Of course no one is suggesting our wives are involved, Harold. Why, you and I both know that Louise and Katherine are dining at the Beckett house this evening.”

Theodore watched as Eliza exchanged a horrified glance
with Violet before she batted innocent eyes once again, still not speaking a single word.

Ladies were much more trouble than they were worth, and he needed to remember that.

He drew in another deep breath and slowly released it. “Are my mother and sister enjoying a lovely dinner at the moment?”

“I’m sure your mother is.”

Theodore felt as if his head were about to explode. “And Katherine?”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Mr. Wilder.”

“I don’t like that you’re hiding something, Mrs. Beckett.”

Eliza’s eyes spewed sparks as she considered him for a long moment, and then she smiled. “Fine, have it your way.” She turned to Harold, her smile widening. “I do hate to be the one to tell you this, Mr. Gibson, but your wife is not having dinner. She’s in jail.”

Harold began to sputter, abruptly stopping when Eliza stepped closer to him and added, “And just to be clear, the reason Katherine’s in jail? She blackmailed Agatha and Arabella into allowing her to tag along this evening. So if you think you’re going to blame Arabella for your wife’s foray into criminal activity, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Eliza curtsied, took Violet’s arm, sent Theodore a glare that had him moving out of the way, and stalked from the room, her head held high.

 12 

A
rabella hunched her shoulders, hoping to appear as small as possible as she huddled against the cold iron bars of yet another cell.

She chanced a glance at the eight ladies of the night who were lounging on the opposite side of their shared space, and could only thank God this particular cell was not as small as the one she’d been stuck in back in Gilman.

From the angry looks some of the ladies kept sending her way, as well as the looks they were sending Agatha and Katherine, she wasn’t exactly certain a larger cell was going to help them survive the night.

Honestly, she was a bit befuddled by the looks. It certainly wasn’t as if she’d done anything that had caused them to get arrested, and neither had Agatha or Katherine. If anything, the ladies should be grateful they’d been arrested with her in tow. She had more than enough money to see them all released, once someone showed up to bail them out, and—

“Listen, Alfred, or whoever you’re claiming to be, I’m not going to tell you again,” a police officer growled, causing
Arabella to direct her attention to the heated conversation taking place a foot away from her. The officer stabbed a stubby finger toward Agatha through the bars. “None of us believe you’re actually a journalist for the
New-York Tribune
, so you might as well save your breath. Besides, I think your screeching is beginning to antagonize your cell mates, and quite frankly, that’s not something I’d recommend
.
”

Agatha began to sputter. “But, but . . . you have to listen to . . .”

“Not another word,” the police officer snapped before he withdrew his finger, spun on his heel, and stalked away.

Agatha threw up her hands. “He doesn’t believe me.”

“Of course he doesn’t believe you,” Arabella retorted. “You’re completely overwrought, and I don’t think you’ve noticed that your wig is barely attached to your head, lending you a somewhat deranged appearance.”

“I’m never overwrought.”

Arabella threw up her own hands. “Fine, you’re not overwrought, but you certainly don’t look like a journalist, which is why the officer doesn’t believe you.”

Agatha narrowed her eyes. “I certainly don’t look like a lady of the night either. If you’ll recall, we’re wearing opera dresses, and”—she hiked up her skirt and lifted her foot—“as I only just realized tonight, would any self-respecting lady of the night go out to work in shoes like these?” She dropped her skirt and continued before Arabella could respond. “I think not, proving that I am, in fact, a journalist.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Arabella muttered before she grabbed Agatha’s hand and pulled her rapidly across the cell until she reached a stone bench. She gestured to Katherine, who was sitting stiff as a poker on the bench, to scoot over, pushed Agatha down, and then plopped next to her. “There now, this is cozy.”

Agatha’s only response was a growl.

Katherine leaned forward. “Do you think we’ll have to stay here all night?”

“Unless Violet really did get away and thinks to go to Eliza for help,” Arabella replied.

“Why do you think she’d go to Eliza?” Katherine asked.

Arabella shrugged. “Violet’s a smart lady, and since she and her friends admitted to keeping an eye on all of us, she must know where Eliza lives. But we have no way of knowing if Violet will seek out Eliza, so we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”

Katherine’s eyes began to gleam with satisfaction. “Harold is going to be beside himself with worry when I don’t come home. Maybe he’ll begin to appreciate me more.”

“Or maybe he’ll send you packing off to the country,” Agatha said. “That’s what my father threatened to do the first time I landed in jail.”

“Harold’s not my father, but . . . I bet he will try to pack me off to our country home. Truth be told, I adore languishing in the country. It’s so very restoring to my spirit.” She surprised Arabella when she laughed and then laughed again. “The two of you simply must agree to join me. We’ll have a splendid time.”

Perhaps Agatha wasn’t the only one who’d lost her mind.

Arabella got to her feet, moved around Agatha’s skirt, and came to a stop in front of Katherine. She reached out and patted Katherine’s shoulder. “Dear, I hate to point out the obvious, but I don’t believe Harold will be too keen on allowing you to be in our company again after what happened tonight.”

“Harold won’t be given a choice any longer regarding whom I associate with, and I take full responsibility for my being behind bars. You and Agatha are certainly not to blame, and I intend to tell Harold exactly that.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Arabella asked.

Katherine grinned. “I readily admit that I am. I feel as if I’ve seen a completely new side of the world.” Her grin faded. “You would not believe some of the stories I heard from those women tonight. They tore at my heart and made me realize what a pampered existence I live.”

Agatha sat forward on the bench. “Perhaps the night isn’t a complete loss after all.” She bent over, fought with the fabric of her skirt, and raised it above her knees as her head disappeared into the folds of silk. She reappeared a moment later with a small pad of paper and pen in her hand.

“How in the world did you manage to retain that when the officers divested us of our weapons?” Katherine asked.

“I always try to keep my tools of the trade, so to speak, up high on my thigh.” Agatha’s eyes sparkled. “The officer who was given the job of frisking me was a shy sort, and he didn’t bother to go much past my knee. Besides, I think they thought they’d confiscated all the good stuff when they took away my reticule.” She plopped the pad of paper on top of her skirt and nodded to Katherine. “So, tell me about those wrenching stories you heard.”

Katherine opened her mouth, but didn’t speak as her gaze suddenly settled on something beyond Arabella’s shoulder. She snapped her mouth shut, her eyes widened, and she pressed herself back against the wall.

Arabella turned as a hard-looking lady with brassy hair and an attitude to match stepped up in front of the bench and glared down at Agatha. “What are you doing?”

Agatha barely batted an eye. “I’m going to jot down some notes for my story. What does it look like I’m doing?”

The lady’s mouth thinned. “Judging by your constant complaining during the entire ride here, me and the other ladies came to believe you and your little friends hadn’t discovered anything of importance tonight. If that’s not true, you need
to tell us what you found out. If it is true, you don’t have anything to write about.”

Agatha tapped her pen on the paper. “We did
not
find out anything about who is behind the missing ladies, but Katherine was just about to tell me some of the heart-wrenching stories she heard tonight. I could write a wonderful feature story with those.”

“We don’t need any bleeding-heart story,” the lady said. “The last thing we want is for all those do-gooders—women like the three of you, I might add—to read a sad tale and take to the streets to try to save us all.”

Lottie, with Hannah following a step behind, pushed her way through the group of ladies and stomped across the cell, her expression determined.

“That’s enough, Dot,” Lottie snapped as she stopped in front of Arabella and turned to face Dot. “These ladies braved much tonight to try and help us, and there is no reason to be rude to them.”

Dot’s eyes glittered. “I’m being rude?” She released a laugh that was more angry than amused. “I’m not the one who decided to play dress-up tonight and take to the streets. It’s no wonder we were raided with those three dressed in such ridiculous gowns.”

Arabella cleared her throat. “I hardly believe the blame for getting arrested can be laid at our feet. From what I understand, raids are a common occurrence in your line of work.”

“You understand nothing with your fancy manners and condescending air,” Dot hissed. “I heard you questioning some of the girls, asking them how you could assist them into a better life.” Another scary laugh erupted out of her mouth. “You, a woman who has never known a day of hardship in her life, think you know what’s best for us?”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the cell.

Arabella lifted her chin. “You don’t know me.”

Dot rolled her eyes. “You’re the great and mighty Arabella Beckett, champion of women across the country. How smug you must feel every day when you wake up and realize you’re so much better than every other woman out there.”

Hannah moved past Dot and, to Arabella’s surprise, stood in front of her, as if trying to block her from Dot’s harsh words.

“You go too far, Dot,” Hannah said. “Arabella didn’t have to help us.”

“But of course she did. A lady like Arabella Beckett loves nothing more than catering to those she feels are beneath her. It makes her feel important.”

Arabella felt every muscle in her body tense. She slipped around Hannah and caught Dot’s gaze. “You’re wrong about me. I don’t feel anyone is beneath me, and besides, everyone is equal in God’s eyes. If you must know, the reason I’ve devoted my life to assisting women in need is because I’ve always believed it was God’s will.”

“Ah, so this is a divine intervention, then, and has nothing to do with the fact that ladies like you always seem to act so much superior to all of us sinners.” Dot began tapping her foot against the floor. “If I understand you correctly, God, our heavenly Father, has specifically chosen
you
to carry out His will, and that’s why you work tirelessly for the cause, saving souls as you travel from city to city.”

Arabella stepped closer to Dot, facing her directly. “I realize your life has probably been extremely difficult, Dot, but I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’re targeting me with your anger. I’ve done nothing to deserve your disdain.”

“You’re incredibly judgmental.”

“I am not.”

“Then why do you assume your life is so much better than ours?”

Arabella blinked as something unpleasant settled in her
stomach. Could Dot’s accusation have merit? Did she assume her life was better?

The unpleasantness in her stomach increased even as the truth swirled around in her mind.

Of course her life was better, no question about it, but did that make her judgmental?

She paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “I have been blessed with a comfortable existence, so yes, I do believe my life is better. I don’t face the dangers you face every time you walk the streets, and I certainly can’t understand how anyone in your position could be content with such a life.”

Dot shrugged. “You might have a comfortable existence, Miss Beckett, but I have true freedom.”

Agatha stood, pushed down her skirt, and dropped her paper and pen to the bench. “Freedom you might have, but at what cost? Your life is frequently at risk. My friends and I never meant to insult any of you, but we are in a position to assist you. We can get you off the streets and into better positions.”

Dot’s eyes turned icy as she lifted her chin. “If you’re about to whip out a Bible from under that skirt of yours and start reading us Scripture, I might just feel compelled to smack you.”

“I didn’t actually have enough room to strap my Bible to my leg,” Agatha returned with a lift of her own chin.

“Well, we can thank the good Lord for that small favor.”

Lottie held up a hand. “I think that will do, Dot. It’s clear there are differences of opinion here, and nothing productive is going to come of spending our time bickering. Shall we agree to a truce and try to spend the rest of the night as pleasantly as possible?”

Dot looked as if she wanted to argue, but then without another word, she turned and flounced over to the front of
the cell, presenting them with her back as she gripped the bars and began to converse with the ladies locked up in a cell across the hall.

Arabella breathed a silent sigh of relief when all the other ladies, except Lottie and Hannah, went to join Dot. She moved to the bench, sat down next to Katherine, and saw that her hands had taken to trembling. Lottie sat down beside her and rubbed her arm. “Don’t let Dot upset you, Arabella. She’s a bitter woman, and she doesn’t like anyone who is more fortunate than she is trying to tell her how to lead her life.”