Kathleen Y'Barbo (44 page)

Kyle clapped a hand on his father’s shoulder and grinned. “I hope I find something lasting like you and Mother have.”

“What about this young lady your mother is all atwitter about?”

Kyle scrubbed at his face with his palms. “I do not know. She is infuriation and fascination in equal measure. When I am not with her, I wonder what she is doing, and sometimes when I am with her, I wonder what I have done for the Lord to allow me to know her.” He sighed. “That sounds ridiculous.”

“That sounds like love, son.” He placed his hand atop Kyle’s. “My advice is to marry her. You’ll never find another who gets under your skin like that. The Lord only makes one per fellow, and I think you have found yours.”

Ah. “Like Mother?” he managed by way of diversion.

“Oh, I hope so.” Papa grinned. “No man should be without a woman who thinks she can tell him what to do. Just never let on that you are the one in charge. Once you try and convince her of that, you are sunk.”

Kyle thought of his conversations on that topic. “So having her call me emperor is a bad idea?”

Laughing, Papa glanced up in the direction Mother had gone. “She can call you whatever she wants and it will not matter. What matters is whether she comes when you call her.”

“Millie is not a pet spaniel, Papa. And I can assure you she will never come when I call.”

“Not on an everyday basis, but when it really matters. That is when you will know.” He paused. “But I think you know already, do you not?”

“Based on your criteria, yes, I think I do. Except for the spaniel part. Millie is definitely not one to answer my whistles.”

Papa laughed. “Why would a man want a lapdog when he might have a feisty companion? Personally, I like a little spunk.”

“So do I. Now, sir, if you will excuse me, I have some work to do.”

His father fell in step beside him as he headed toward the door. “This woman is not Angelique.”

That stopped Kyle cold. “No, she is not.”

“Then do not find her guilty of sins she did not commit.”

Kyle gave Papa a sideways look. “What are you talking about?”

“If you had no reluctance to see the end of your relationship played out again in great detail on the society page of the
Picayune,
would you be so uncertain that Millie Cope is the one the Lord has provided for your wife?”

His engagement, a society coup between two well-placed New Orleans families, had been the talk of the best circles. The upcoming wedding was an eagerly anticipated event that took over nearly every conversation for months. Had Kyle been more focused on his bride and less focused on doing well at his new position as a Pinkerton agent, he might have noticed the way Angelique spoke less and less to him about anything.

About how long conversations about wedding details and honeymoon travel gradually faded to brief discussions and then eventually to snippets of talk between two people who found little else to say to each other.

And then Angelique’s grandfather let slip during Christmas dinner that he’d been instrumental in facilitating a crooked business deal between a city politician and a wealthy planter the Pinkertons were investigating. It wasn’t a case Kyle was working on, but he knew of the matter through Lucas. To remain silent went against everything he knew to be right, so he told his best friend.

Angelique was furious when the scandal broke, and yet she seemed determined to go through with the wedding. Only when Kyle stood at the altar with a cathedral filled with the city’s elite did he see the results of his bride-to-be’s wrath. The speech on family loyalty she made at the altar, the highlights of which were transcribed in a front-page article in the
Picayune
the next morning, left no question as to whether the wedding would occur.

And the slap she landed on his cheek sealed the deal and made the headline:
THE CASE OF THE BELLIGERENT BRIDE.

Kyle shrugged off the reminder. All of that had happened more than five years ago.

And yet had he ignored clear signs that Millie Cope was the one for him because of this? For a moment he was simply stunned at the thought.

“You cannot answer because you do not know. Figure that one out, and you will figure out the other puzzle. And I do not mean one of those cyphers you toy with.”

Kyle returned home as confused as ever about his feelings for Millie. A check of his messages revealed nothing pressing beyond a request from Henry on any updates he might have.

He jotted off a note in return saying he had nothing further to report regarding the treasure hunt but did have a good lead on Tucker. He included
a coded line about his plan to capture the convict tomorrow evening, and then he sent the footman off to the telegraph office.

Kyle would likely have a call from either Henry or Lucas by tomorrow. In the meantime, he turned his boots toward the workshop where Millie had been toiling alone since he left her to visit his parents.

The lift door opened to reveal her beaming face. “Come quickly, Kyle!”

Banishing the image of a spaniel hurrying to his mistress’s call, he made his way toward her.

“Look at this.” She gestured to the torn piece of foolscap now securely held between two pieces of glass. Where there had been nothing but aged blank paper before, a map could now be distinctly seen.

He picked up the slide and held it to the light. “Millie, how did you do this? I tried everything.”

“It was an accidental discovery. I was examining the paper under the microscope to see if there was any uniform pattern to the uneven edges, thinking perhaps of a code. And then I reached for my coffee cup.” She nodded to a splash of coffee on the worktable. “My clumsiness caused the liquid to spill across the microscope, an issue I was able to repair quickly. And I might have cleaned up the table had I not been distracted by the map that appeared as I dabbed off the coffee. I suspected the map was somehow hidden in the locket, but here it was all the time.”

“And it only took a strong cup of chicory coffee to bring it out.” He chuckled. “Apparently, Monsieur Lafitte was a coffee drinker. It is a very good thing you pursued the investigation of the foolscap.” Evidence he had already discarded as irrelevant.

Decision before all options are explored is a novice’s mistake.
His science instructor had required this quote be memorized well before Kyle was tall enough to reach the worktable without a stool.

The map indicated a decent depiction of the Mississippi River with small tributaries marked on either side. The letters
BI
were clearly drawn on the lower right quadrant of the map beside a tiny cross mark and a violin.

A note scrawled in French said four words: box inside cypress knee. Something else had once been written beneath the words, as evidenced by tiny marks that might have been letters or numbers. Unfortunately, that part of the page had been long ago torn off, the piece lost.

“After looking over the book of maps on your shelf down in the library, I believe that
BI
refers to Bell Island.” She gave him a triumphant look. “If I am correct, then the treasure will be found there.”

She reached to press her index finger atop the
X
, her shoulder brushing his. Millie looked up into his eyes, and her smile broadened. “We have found the treasure.”

“
You
have found the treasure,” Kyle corrected as he set the glass panels aside and turned his full attention on her. “You have found the treasure,” he repeated. “You, Millie Cope, have achieved what no one else could.”

Her giggle began softly and then bubbled up into a full chuckle. Enchanted, Kyle could only sweep her into an embrace and join her in gales of laughter.

And then he knew for sure that she had achieved what no one else could. For somehow she had caused him to not only fall crazy deep in love with her, but she had also managed to make him not care one whit what might appear in the social pages of the
Picayune.

He would court her. Properly, as befitting a woman worthy of great love. But first Tucker had to be caught. And then there was the issue of the treasure. And her father’s business dealings.

Abruptly she backed out of his embrace, her smile still in place. “Oh, Kyle,” she said in a husky whisper that derailed all his thoughts. “Do you know what else this means?”

With an admission of love still on the tip of his tongue, he could only shake his head.

“It means that the locket is not needed to find the treasure.” She grasped his wrists. “What Will Tucker has might have great personal value to me, but it has absolutely no value in gaining him Lafitte’s treasure. I could absolutely dance with happiness.”

“Dance? No. Save it for when you need it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Dancing when you are happy is easy,” he said with a grin. “Too easy for someone of your brilliance. Save your dancing for when things are hard.”

“That is the silliest thing I have ever heard.” She gave him a playful swat and then pressed past him to gather up the slide. “We have to find this.
Should we hire a boat?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “Yes, of course we should. Making our own way there is best. Now, what do you think—”

“Millie.” Kyle reached down to press his index finger against her lips. “Stop talking now.”

Giggling, she did as he said.

“I am beyond proud of you, but we cannot go anywhere until the question of Will Tucker has been settled. Nod if you understand.”

She nodded.

“All right. Where is your knife?”

She gestured to the adjacent worktable.

“Go get it,” he said as he removed his finger from her lips. “You still have practicing to do. And then I want to show you this paging system I’ve been playing with. I think it will be just what we need to keep each other in sight.”

“Kyle?”

He looked down at her, and it was all he could do not to kiss her right then and there. “What?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She shrugged. “Just...well, for everything.”

As he watched her move off to fetch the knife that would fit beneath her pearl bracelet tomorrow night, Kyle felt his heart swell to near bursting. She was perfect, and he loved her.

Thank You, Lord. For everything.

Twenty-Five

February 2, 1889

New Orleans

A
t no time will you be left alone.” Kyle’s hand clasped Millie’s, his eyes sweeping the horizon in both directions as they drove around the side of the French Opera House.

Rather than exiting the carriage up front with everyone else, Kyle had secured permission to drive around to a back entrance where their arrival would not be witnessed by Tucker or anyone else.

“Even if you do not see me, I will be there. You have my word,” he said as he assisted her from the carriage and into the building.

She looked up trustingly into his eyes, and at that moment Kyle felt as though he could conquer the world.

“I believe you,” she said simply.

“I’m glad.” He gestured to her skirt. “Do you remember the signal?” At her nod, he said, “Test it now.”

Millie reached into the nearly invisible pocket that had cost Kyle more than the price of the entire gown. At her touch, the paging button sounded a series of clicks that were audible only through the device hidden behind his ear.

“Perfect. Now the self-protection device.”

“Kyle, truly it is...” At his look she ceased her complaint and nodded. “All right.”

Stretching out her right arm, Millie slid aside the pearl bracelet to reveal a leather band hidden beneath it. With a flick of her wrist, a small knife slid into place just as they had practiced.

“Remember,” he said as she returned the blade to its hiding place, “once the knife is exposed, you will have just a couple of seconds to remove the protective sheath or the blade will retract and return to its hiding place again.”

“Darling, I thought my son would never part with you,” Mother called as she hurried toward them.

Kyle allowed his mother to fawn over Millie for a moment and then he nudged them both inside. “I know it is fashionable to arrive late, but I think it is time you ladies made your grand entrance. What do you say, Mother?” He looked around. “And where’s Papa?”