A Talent for Trouble (22 page)

“I thought he was supposed to bring her here and Grace and Lily were going to help keep an eye on all the children.”

“Piper told me Ming ripped off some of the heads from Piper's
dolls, so knowing that, I would have to believe Grayson is reluctant to foist his daughter on Eliza's children.” She wiggled her brows at Felicia. “Its quite possible Ming's behavior might prompt the man into taking a wife.”

“Yes, that's what I want him to do. Decide he needs a wife because of his motherless daughter.”

“Piper told me she informed Grayson that he shouldn't ask you to marry him for that reason.”

“Piper was talking to Grayson about marrying me?”

Agatha smiled a little smugly. “She told me I was her first choice as a potential wife for her uncle, but for some reason, your name got brought into the mix.”

Agatha suddenly narrowed her eyes as she glanced over Felicia's shoulder. “Felicia, I don't mean to change the subject, considering it's a lively one, but that gentleman I was speaking about a moment ago seems to be heading our way.”

Felicia turned and saw the gentleman she'd made eye contact with before he'd disappeared. He was somberly dressed, walking in a determined manner, his sights clearly settled on her, and . . . Cora Watson was on one side of the man, Gloria Beckett on the other, and bringing up the rear, her mother.

Good grief, they
had
been scheming.

She frowned when it suddenly struck her that none of the ladies looked particularly pleased, even though all of them were smiling.

“This should be good,” Agatha whispered just before the mothers and the unknown gentleman came to a stop in front of them. Ruth scooted to the front of the group, sending Felicia what could only be described as a somewhat sickly smile.

“My dear, may I introduce to you Reverend Thomas Bannes? He's recently come to town after enjoying the company of Reverend Fraser and his wife.”

Reverend Bannes stepped right up to Felicia, his gaze never
leaving her face. He bowed and then straightened, taking her hand in his. “My dear Miss Murdock,” he began, “I've been longing to make your acquaintance ever since I had the pleasure of meeting Reverend Fraser.” He tightened his grip on her hand as he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I was told by the good reverend that you are a shining example of a truly devout and virtuous lady, and that's why I'm here. I am in the market for a wife.”

G
rayson had never dreamed that dealing with a temperamental three-year-old would be so exhausting.

He leaned his head back against the well-appointed seat of his carriage and closed his eyes, allowing the rattle of the carriage wheels against the stones to soothe his frazzled nerves.

The past day and a half had been an absolute nightmare as he and Ming had engaged in a battle of wills that Grayson wasn't exactly certain he'd won. He'd had no idea his daughter was so stubborn, or dramatic, or that she possessed the ability to raise welts on arms, legs, and even his stomach when she'd sunk her sharp little teeth into him.

More than once he'd thought about turning her over to the army of nannies he employed, but he'd known that doing so would mean he'd lost the battle and, more importantly, lost an opportunity to finally become a true father to the little girl who obviously needed a real parent figure in her life.

He raised a hand and rubbed his temple. It was a tough business, this fathering thing. He'd had no idea one small child
could be so obstinate. As he'd carried her around and around his spacious home, trying to soothe her while not allowing her to bite him, he'd come to the understanding that a father's main job was to do what was best for his child—something he finally understood his father had been trying to do for him.

He'd begun talking to his father as he carted Ming from room to room, hoping the man could hear him from heaven. When Grayson was finished, he'd felt a small measure of peace, knowing that at last—even though the process was one-sided—he'd made a few amends with the father he'd been angry at for years.

His eyes flashed open when the carriage began to slow and then stopped, causing Grayson to lean forward, push back the curtain, and see they'd reached their destination.

He'd not planned to attend the Beckett ball, but when Ming had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, one of the nannies assured him that she wouldn't wake until the next morning and had then given him some stellar advice. She'd told him point-blank that he'd done well with Ming, but that he should get out of the house and seek a bit of amusement, because . . . Ming would require his attention the following day.

It really was amazing how difficult attempting to be a real father was turning out to be, and it was quickly becoming clear that it wasn't a temporary situation—it was one he was going to have to embrace for years.

A footman took that moment to open the carriage door, and Grayson climbed out, noticing as he did so that there were no people milling around outside the mansion—clear testimony to the likelihood they were already deep into the ball, which meant he was more than fashionably late. He thanked the footman and began to walk toward the house, anticipation suddenly flowing through him.

Felicia would be there, and even though he kept reminding
himself that he wasn't good enough for her, she kept pulling at him even when she wasn't in his presence.

She hadn't turned from him when he'd disclosed his past. Because of that, he didn't seem to have any control over the fact that he thought about her constantly, thought about her sweetness, her quirkiness, her talent for trouble. All of those things kept roaming through his mind, keeping him up throughout the night, and those thoughts had compelled him to change into formal evening clothes and attend the ball.

He reached the steps to the house and was about to go up them when the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up. He turned and looked around, but other than a few footmen and coachmen standing around, he saw no one. Shrugging the feeling away, he climbed the short flight of steps, nodded to the butler who was standing with the door open for him, and walked into the house. There was no receiving line, nor had he expected one, given the lateness of the hour. He headed for the curved staircase, smiling when he saw Arabella and Theodore strolling down it.

“Did I miss the ball?” he asked.

Arabella smiled as she reached his side and gave him her gloved hand, which he promptly kissed. “Of course not, but the ball is a true crush, and the ballroom is stifling, which caused Theodore and I to seek out a little space.”

“You can release my wife's hand, Grayson,” Theodore muttered. “One would think that since she's securely married now, all of you poor unmarried gents would stop fawning over her.”

Grayson let go of Arabella's hand and grinned. “It's difficult to ignore a beautiful lady, Theodore, no matter that she's firmly off the shelf.”

Arabella took his arm, turned, and extended her other to Theodore. She steered them away from the staircase and into a parlor, breathing a sigh of relief as she let go of their arms,
moved to a chaise, and sat down on it. “Ah, much better.” She gestured Grayson to a chair next to her, while Theodore sat beside her on the chaise. She fanned her face with a hand for a moment before she turned her attention to Grayson.

“Piper told me you're considering asking Felicia to marry you.”

Grayson blinked. “She did not. When?”

“I assure you, she did. We stopped by her house before heading to the ball. She also mentioned something about Ming needing a mother.” She began fanning her face once again. “Take some advice from me, Grayson—don't bring that up when you propose. Felicia is a relatively no-nonsense type of lady, but she might reject you out of hand if she comes to believe you only want to marry her to provide Ming with a mother.” She shuddered. “Hamilton did that with Eliza at first, and from what I understand, it did not go over well.”

“I'm not planning on proposing.”

Arabella narrowed her eyes. “But . . . you have to propose—tonight.”

Grayson narrowed his eyes right back at her. “Why?”

“Because if you don't, Felicia is liable to end up with that Reverend Bannes, and I've already decided he's completely wrong for her.”

Ice settled in his veins. “Who, pray tell, is Reverend Bannes?”

“I'm not certain, since I've never seen the gentleman before tonight, but he showed up at the ball and has been paying Felicia marked attention.” Arabella blew out a breath. “She's danced with him at least twice, and I do believe he's trying his best to sweep her off her feet.”

Grayson stood and strode to the door, temper replacing the ice. He was forced to a stop, however, when Theodore blocked his path. “Excuse me. I need to get by.”

Theodore crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.
“Not until you get that rage under control. The last thing Gloria will want at her ball is to have you taking out some poor reverend in the same way you evidently took out all those men at the pub.” He winked. “I don't think mass carnage is what Gloria had in mind when she decided to host a ball to see Zayne on his way.”

“I'm not intending to harm the reverend. I'm simply going to make it clear to him that he needs to maintain his distance from Felicia.”

Theodore frowned. “You just said you weren't planning on proposing to her.”

“True, but Arabella said this gentleman is all wrong for Felicia, so I feel a distinct need to help the lady. She has a very kind heart, you know. Pair that with her innocence and, why, there's no telling what kind of mischief she'll get herself into.”

“He is wrong for her,” Arabella said as she rose from the chaise and joined them. “I'll come with you. Between the two of us, we'll make short shrift of discouraging this man.”

Theodore held his place. “Darling, you know I love you, but there's absolutely no possible way you can know—since the only contact you had with the reverend was to nod at him—that he's wrong for Felicia.”

Arabella lifted her chin. “I'm remarkably intuitive.”

“Be that as it may,” Theodore continued with a fond smile to his wife, “both of you are forgetting one very important thing. Felicia went to extraordinary lengths to win Reverend Fraser's affections, which tells me she's hoping to form an alliance with a man of great faith.”

He nodded to Grayson. “I'm not, by any means, questioning the strength of your faith, but a man of the cloth might be exactly what Felicia has always desired. Don't you think she deserves to make her own decision regarding this man?”

Grayson exchanged a glance with Arabella. “No.”

“You're being difficult,” Theodore muttered. “And a bit of
a contradiction as well, considering you quickly denied any interest in proposing to Felicia. It will not hurt to . . .” His voice trailed off when a hulking brute of a man slid into the room and joined them, whispering something in Theodore's ear before he slid on silent feet back out the door.

“And he would be?” Grayson prompted.

“That was Tiny.” Theodore grinned but then sobered. “The police department has asked for my assistance with a situation developing in the city. Since I was unable to help them this evening, knowing Gloria would be more than miffed if I missed her ball, I've allowed my men to join forces with the police, and those men have been bringing me back regular reports.”

Grayson tilted his head. “Do the police often ask for your assistance?”

“No, but since I'm the one who brought the activity at Posey's to their attention, and something does indeed seem to be happening, the police need all the help they can get.”

Dread was immediate. “What's happening?”

“That's just it. We don't really know, but there's been an increased presence of Chinese around all the dens in the city, which has the police concerned.” Theodore blew out a breath. “Anti-Chinese sentiment is high right now, so even a small increase in activities like the opium trade has people up in arms. They are demanding the police step in.”

Grayson's mouth ran dry. “There are more Chinese surrounding the opium dens? Has an opium ship docked recently?”

“It appears that way, but I don't know how that could have happened. The authorities have been carefully regulating the docks for weeks.”

“Money is how that happened,” Grayson said. “I was once responsible for paying out huge sums so that our ships could gain access to docks in different countries. Believe me, it is not that difficult to disguise the arrival of a huge boat if the right
amount of money passes hands.” Horror suddenly coursed through him. “I have to get back to Ming.”

Theodore shook his head. “No one can get to Ming, Grayson. I've sent ten additional guards to watch your house. She's completely safe. We should, however, discuss protection for you. I took the liberty of assigning a few men to trail you.”

That probably explained why his hair had stood up on his neck—he
was
being watched.

“Do you really think that's necessary?”

“Until we figure out what's actually going on, yes. But it shouldn't—” Theodore stopped speaking as Ruth Murdock barged into the room, her color high and her expression decidedly agitated.

“Where have you been?” Ruth snapped as she came to a halt directly in front of Grayson and took his arm in a remarkably firm grip. “Disaster is nipping at Felicia's heels, and this is no time for you to be chitchatting with your friends.”

“I was under the distinct impression you wanted me to keep my distance from your daughter.”

“I've changed my mind.” Ruth lifted her chin. “That is a lady's prerogative, but there's no time to discuss that at the moment. As I said before, Felicia is in dire danger of making yet another horrible mistake, so I need you to go after her. Be charming and allow her to see that her goal in life is not to become the wife of a minister—at least not the minister who is currently pursuing her.”

Temper was immediate. “Reverend Bannes is pursuing her?”

“Ah, wonderful, you've already heard about the good reverend, which begs the question as to why you're not already at Felicia's side.”

Theodore cleared his throat. “I told Grayson he should allow Felicia the opportunity to decide on her own whether or not she cares for Reverend Bannes's company.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Theodore,” Ruth snapped. “Felicia, even though she is an intelligent girl, has spent the past four years believing God intended her to be a minister's wife. Can't you see that she might come to the conclusion, given that her affection for Reverend Fraser was not returned, that God has sent her Reverend Bannes as an answer to the prayers she prayed over the years?”

“What if God really did send her Reverend Bannes?” Grayson asked slowly.

“Of course He didn't. God knows full well that Felicia would make an abysmal minister's wife. It's not that she's lacking in faith, far from it, but she needs a man who can give her the adventures her soul craves. Unfortunately, I've yet to meet a minister who's overly adventurous, and I certainly didn't get that impression from Reverend Bannes.”

She drew in a breath, quickly released it, and continued. “Now then, before we go find her, I must warn you to tread carefully with anything you say, especially as pertains to this new gentleman. Reverend Fraser sent the man to town, and since Felicia held, and perhaps still holds, Reverend Fraser in high regard, make certain you don't inadvertently get her back up by saying anything of an unpleasant nature about the man.”