Kathleen Y'Barbo (34 page)

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Authors: Millie's Treasure

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“Morning, Miss Cope,” the doorman said as he stepped back to welcome her with a tip of his hat. “Lovely day today, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed,” she said, smiling warmly. “I wonder if I might trouble you to be on the lookout for two trunks I will be having delivered here.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

She wandered past the front desk and surveyed the lobby with a casual glance. A fellow behind the desk caught her eye, and she sauntered over to smile in his direction. “Might I ask you a discreet question?”

“Yes, Miss Cope.”

Millie suppressed a frown. Did everyone in town know her name? She recovered quickly to give the man her attention once more.

“A friend of mine is staying here. I wonder if you might tell me which room is his.”

The question itself was scandalous. The act of brazenly marching upstairs and knocking on the door of an unmarried nonrelative of the male persuasion was even more so. But desperate situations called for desperate measures, and Silas Cope had given up any right to worry about bringing shame on the family when he set fire to her prized possessions in the alley last night.

“And this friend’s name?” he said as he looked over his spectacles at her.

“Oh, yes. His name is Kyle.” She gave him a bright smile, acting for all the world as if he should recognize his guest by the one name alone. “Surely you know to whom I am referring,” she added with a bit of the confidence that was building inside her.

“Kyle,” he echoed as he bent his head to once again consult the register. “Yes, well...” And then he nodded. “We do have a guest named Kyle.”

“Oh, good.” Millie leaned forward and tried to read the ledger upside down. She might have accomplished it had he not slammed the book shut so quickly.

“Well?” she said when he merely looked at her.

“It appears he has checked out, although he has not yet had his luggage delivered to the steamboat.”

“Is that so?” She calculated the risk of asking for more information and decided to take it. “And which boat is he traveling on? Or perhaps he did not say?”

“I believe he did, in fact, though I would have to check with the doorman to get that information for you.” He glanced past Millie and then met her gaze again. He leaned forward and said in a discreet voice, “And I apologize, but there are folks in line behind you.”

Millie turned around to see there were indeed several prospective hotel guests waiting their turn. “Oh, I am terribly sorry. Why don’t I just go and ask the doorman myself?”

“Kyle?” the doorman asked. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Kyle Russell has already left to board the
Victoria Anne,
but right there’s his things still waiting to be sent over.”

“And where might that vessel be headed?” she asked as if the answer was of no consequence.

“New Orleans, ma’am.”

New Orleans. Interesting. Had Kyle learned something about the Lafitte treasure that sent him heading downriver? If so, he’d be going with her.

Millie offered up her sweetest smile and a five-dollar bill. “Might I trouble you to have someone fetch my trunks from the dressmaker and have them loaded about the
Victoria Anne?”

His brows gathered. “You’ll be traveling with Mr. Russell?”

Millie slyly retrieved another five-dollar bill. “Not as far as anyone knows.”

The doorman glanced around and then nodded before accepting the money. “I’ll have those trunks fetched over right now, Miss Cope.”

Now her lone impediment was a ticket, a matter quickly settled when the ticket agent recognized her as Silas Cope’s daughter. As he was handing it to her, the wind gusted, whipping it from Millie’s fingers. The agent scrambled to fetch it before it flew off into the Mississippi River.

“We’re lucky we didn’t lose that, Miss Cope. Please be careful with it.”

“Very careful.” Millie placed the ticket in her handbag and snapped it shut. Then she gave the ticket agent a sideways look. “And speaking of being careful, may I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything for Mr. Silas’s daughter.”

“Yes, well,” she said as she made a show of looking around to be certain no one was near enough to listen in. “Please do not mention that you have seen me here,” she said as she added a generous tip to the voucher she was signing. “I am hoping to surprise him, and, well, you can imagine it would be no surprise if he were to be told.”

The statement made no sense, and yet Millie delivered it with enough charm that the ticket agent not only agreed but also wished her well and left his position to find a member of the crew to escort her to a nicely appointed first-class cabin.

By the time the bell rang and the
Virginia Anne
pulled away from the docks, the reality of her situation had begun to sink in.
After a twirl around the room, she fell on the settee with a sense of relief. As much as she wished things had happened differently, Millie’s only order of business for the remainder of the day was conspiring to be seated at the same
table with her dear friend Mr. Kyle Russell. The friend who owed her an explanation as to why he was rushing away to New Orleans, of all places.

Then she would figure out just how to convince him to go along with her plan. Her plan and Cook’s, for she would never have found the courage to walk out of that dreadful house on Adams Street had Cook not taken her into her confidence.

Now, instead of running away, she felt as if she were running toward something. Toward family. Toward the truth. And, she hoped, also toward the Copes’ share of the Lafitte treasure.

Millie rose and walked to the window, watching through a fresh downpour of January rain as Memphis grew smaller.

Her fingers went to her neck, where the only reminder of Mama’s necklace was the scratch the chain had made when it was torn away. Yet with every turn of the paddle wheel, her spirits lifted. Soon enough Father would discover she had escaped and taken a substantial amount of Cope funds with her. But he had Mrs. Ward-Wiggins now, or would that be Mrs. Ward-Wiggins-Cope? In any case, perhaps the marriage had bought her enough time to become established in New Orleans, just as it had bought Father an addition to his bank account and social standing.

This thought carried her through the tedious process of dressing without a maid and pressed at her as she stepped into the vast dining room to await her assigned table. Traveling alone was not something she feared, and yet she had never experienced it.

The room was long and overly done with decorations a bit on the gaudy side and crystal chandeliers the size of wagon wheels that swayed with the rhythm of the paddle wheels. From the golden trim to the bandstand bedecked with every sort of flounce and trim imaginable, Millie could not quite decide where to focus.

Adding to all of that was the chaos of dozens of tables set for dinner with what appeared to be a king’s ransom of gold and silver, while waiters in formal wear hurried about. The effect of it all was dizzying.

“Miss Cope,” said the steward who came up beside her. “Welcome to the
Virginia Anne.

“Thank you,” she said as the sparkling crystal lights above her head took a startling jolt to the right.

“Easy now,” he said as he caught her elbow. “This weather has the river churning. What do you say to my getting you to your table before that captain of ours has you and all the other diners sprawled out on the floor?”

“Yes, of course.” She leaned in slightly, nothing untoward but definitely in an effort not to be overhead. “Did you receive my request for dinner seating?”

“I did, ma’am.” His sweeping glance told Millie that he was holding much more interest in her than was proper. “I must say that Mr. Russell is a lucky man.”

“And I must say that your impertinence has me wondering how you managed to secure this position on the
Virginia Anne
.” Her steely gaze punctuated her statement. “Perhaps I should take my concerns in this regard to the aforementioned captain for his opinion on the subject.”

All color faded from the steward’s face as he appeared to have a sudden difficulty with speech or movement.

“Shall we?” Millie said as she nodded toward the dining room with measured cheerfulness as the vessel once again shuddered beneath her feet. “I would prefer to be sitting rather than standing at this moment.”

With a nod, he escorted her to her assigned seat. Two gentlemen rose at her arrival, but neither was the man she hoped to find there.

The younger of the pair, a fellow who looked to be about Millie’s age, grinned beneath a moustache that had been trained to stand at attention on both ends of its drooping length. He put her in mind of a well-dressed walrus.

The other, likely a close relative, bore the look of a gentleman gambler or, perhaps, some sort of businessman. “Merle Milligan at your service, ma’am,” he said as he hurried to pull out her chair.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied politely as she settled into place.

“I’d be pleased if you called me Merle.” A jab from beside him alerted the man to his companion’s presence. He glanced to his side and exchanged an impatient look with the other fellow before returning his
attention to Millie. “And this here’s my brother Sawyer. Say hello to the lady, Saw.”

He did as instructed and then both men sat back down. Merle continued with the conversation. “Saw and I are traveling all the way to New Orleans.
Been seeing family upriver, but it’s time to get home.” He shook his head. “Where are my manners? Why, we haven’t given you the chance to make your own introductions. What did you say your name was, pretty lady?”

Millie opened her mouth to respond, but a familiar and decidedly male voice answered for her. “Mildred Cope.”

She was far too well bred to turn and see the source. Not that she needed to, for Kyle Russell pressed his hand to her shoulder and stepped into view.

“Will you excuse us, gentlemen?” He glanced at the two men and then back at her. “May I have a word in private, Miss Cope?”

“Certainly, Mr. Russell,” she said.

He gave her a half smile. “So you know.”

“A man who wishes to keep secrets should never put his name on his luggage.”

“Fair enough. Now, shall we?”

She could not help but notice that Kyle did not appear to care whether their tablemates responded. Instead, he had her on her feet and out of the dining room practically before either could speak.

His palm against her back gently pressed her forward. When they paused in a quiet passageway off the dining room, Millie slid him a sideways look.

One dark brow rose. Oh, but he was handsome. And here in the lamplight, with his best formal attire, his hair freshly combed and the unmistakable scent of fresh soap lingering, with the sweet recollection of being kissed...

Millie leaned away abruptly. What was she thinking?

“So,” she said to derail her errant thoughts. “Are you surprised to see me?”

From her demeanor, it was obvious that though the Lord had answered his prayers on the matter, Kyle’s message had not reached
Millie before the steamboat departed. She looked far too uncertain and more than a little
nervous in his presence, behavior not in keeping with a woman who had been invited to accompany him.

He decided to play along and see just what she had intended when she boarded the vessel. “What are you doing here?” he demanded when they stopped in a quiet corner of the hall. Leaning against the rosewood panels that lined the walls and matched the stateroom doors, she worried the trim on her sleeve.

Pasting on her best smile, Millie looked up into his eyes. “I am traveling to New Orleans. Why are you here?”

“Business. And you?”

“To hire you.”

“Really?” Kyle didn’t allow his enormous feeling of relief that she was safe and sound in front of him to show. Or his gratitude that God had worked out everything so well after all. “In what capacity, Miss Cope? Perhaps a bodyguard or a fellow to carry your purchases?”

She couldn’t help smiling. “While you are most welcome to fulfill both of those positions, Mr. Russell, my greater need is a fellow to solve a puzzle for me.”

“And you have chosen me for that fellow.”

“I chose you well before you decided to depart Memphis, and you turned me down flat.” She gave him a dare-to-deny-it look. “However, the situation has changed, and I believe that under the circumstances I can now persuade you to—”

A door opened down the hall and a couple walked out, the woman’s laughter echoing in the narrow space. Millie waited until the pair had passed before continuing.

“I will get right to it. I have new information,” she said softly, apparently lest prying ears might be listening from behind any of the closed doors. “And I have recently acquired the funds with which to pay for a complete investigation into my aforementioned search.”

“Paid research? That is a novel idea. I generally do not receive payment until after the patent goes through, and even then I must share a portion of that payment with Mr. Toulmin.”

“Truly you are insufferable, Kyle. I know you are just as intrigued with
the idea of treasure as I am.” She waved away his response. “Do not try to deny it. You are not only working on a project, but you are also intrigued by the puzzles I have presented.”

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