Unseemly Ambition (45 page)

Penelope Hamilton, wrist in a splint
but looking otherwise whole, smiled. “That sounds
lovely.”

“
I’m glad you could visit
once more before you leave,” Concordia said, putting the kettle
under the tap. “Are you sure you’re fit to travel?’

“
I’ll be fine,” Miss
Hamilton assured her.

“
I imagine your family
misses you,” Concordia said. She set a plate of scones and a teacup
within reach of Penelope Hamilton’s good hand.

“
My sister is the only
family I have left,” Miss Hamilton said. “Although she came to see
me during my recovery, a hospital environment is hardly congenial
for socializing.”

“
I don’t know what we would
have done without you,” Concordia said, thinking over the events of
the past few weeks. Lily Isley and Robert Flynn were dead,
Hitchcock and Isley were in prison, each awaiting trial, and the
police chief was facing disciplinary action for his part in
obstructing the Florence Willoughby investigation. The Inner
Circle, without its leader, was broken up, powerless. Charlotte
Crandall had told Concordia that her uncle, Sir Anthony Dunwick,
had withdrawn his membership in the Black Scroll, along with
Maynard and a number of other brothers. Accusations and blame were
directed toward the powerful Willoughby family.

But it was over.

Miss Hamilton smiled. “I was happy to
assist. A fascinating case. You did most of the hard work,
however.”

Concordia winced. The bruise on her
jaw had faded, but the memories were painfully fresh.

“
I haven’t seen Mr. Bradley
around lately,” Miss Hamilton continued. “Miss Pomeroy told me what
happened between you two at the square. I hope the rift has been
mended?”

Miss Hamilton’s directness was always
a bit disconcerting. Concordia looked away, busying herself with
steeping the tea to cover her silence. Forgiving David had been the
easy part, but she’d found herself at a loss for words to answer
any of his letters of apology. After a week of leaving his messages
unanswered, she had received a terse note from him, saying that he
was leaving for his parents’ summer cottage and would be gone until
the fall term. She wasn’t sure whether she was angry, hurt, or
relieved. She’d tried to push it out of her mind with work.
Certainly the end of term had held plenty to occupy her:
examinations, graduation preparations, letters of reference,
dismantling the cottage household. Many good-byes were exchanged as
the students scattered for the summer recess.

The good-byes were always
the hardest part. Concordia would miss her girls, as impetuous,
mischievous, and noisy
as they were wont to
be. Even Miss Smedley, who at last had settled down to be a fair
student and planned to return in the fall.

But when Concordia wasn’t busy—usually
in the quiet of the night as she lay staring at the
moonlight-bathed ceiling—she thought of David, and hoped she wasn’t
saying goodbye to him, too. She’d started four different letters to
send, and had torn up each one.

Miss Hamilton was watching her
carefully. Concordia finally met her gaze. “He’s gone for the
summer. And no—it has not been mended.”

“
Ah, I see.” There was an
awkward silence, then Miss Hamilton changed the subject. “I’ll be
starting my next assignment soon.”

“
Oh? What assignment is
that?”

“
It looks to be quite
intriguing. It involves a cross-country railway trip. In fact, I
was wondering…I’d need a companion for the journey. What do you
think?”

Concordia’s eyes widened.
“
Me
? I already have
a job. Shouldn’t you find someone more—” she groped for a word
“—professional?”

Miss Hamilton shook her head. “You
underestimate yourself. Besides, you wouldn’t do actual
investigative work. I would merely need you to listen and observe.
It would be helpful to have someone to talk to. Sometimes detection
is lonely work.”

Concordia nodded. She had felt that
loneliness.

“
You’ve just finished with
the spring term,” Miss Hamilton went on, as Concordia poured the
tea. “The trip would involve only a few weeks of your summer
recess. Besides, it might be opportune to get away from Hartford
for a while. You could use a change of scene.” She
hesitated.

“
There’s something more to
this,” Concordia said.

“
I’m also concerned about
the Inner Circle,” Miss Hamilton said.

“
Why?” Concordia asked.
“That has been broken up.”

“
We don’t know the full
extent of the Circle’s influence, or if the remaining members might
engage in some sort of retribution,” Miss Hamilton countered.
“Remember, we don’t know the identities of the final three in the
group.”

Concordia sat lost in thought,
gripping her teacup. When she had visited Sophia and Eli a few days
before, she’d learned that Isley was still refusing to identify the
other members. Did he fear them so? She’d tried not to think about
those unknown men, possibly nursing a grudge against
her.

Miss Hamilton waited in silence. The
mantel clock ticked in the quiet.

The sound of the doorbell made them
both jump.

They heard Ruby’s footsteps in the
hall, and then Capshaw’s voice as he talked with Ruby. A couple of
minutes later, the familiar stoop-shouldered man paused in the
kitchen doorway. Concordia noticed he was growing his mustache
again. It seemed to be coming in just as red as ever.

“
I’m sorry to interrupt,
but I have news.”

“
Of course, Lieutenant, sit
down.” Miss Hamilton gestured to another chair. “Would you like
some tea?”

He shook his head. “I can only stay a
moment. I came to tell you that Hitchcock and Isley are
dead.”

“
What! Both of them?”
Concordia cried. Her fingers felt suddenly chilled, and she gripped
her teacup for its warmth. “How can that be?”

“
Killed as they slept, and
in different cells,” Capshaw said dejectedly. “With a fatal dose of
chloroform.”

Concordia and Miss Hamilton exchanged
glances.

“
It looks like Ruby is a
widow, once again,” Concordia said.

Capshaw nodded. “I just told
her.”

Miss Hamilton grimaced. “The Inner
Circle is alive and well.”

What wound did ever heal
but by degrees?

II.iii

Summer Recess

June 1898

Concordia sat on her suitcase to keep
it shut as she wrestled with the buckle on the strap. It was at
this inopportune moment that someone knocked on the door of Willow
Cottage.

Drat.
Since she was alone in the house, she would have to get
that.

The man at the door was holding
flowers. Concordia recognized both the flowers—prize-winning roses
from President Langdon’s garden—and the man.

“
David?” Concordia stared
at him, her hand gripping the knob.

He gave her a tentative smile, which
dimpled his cheeks but didn’t quite reach his brown eyes. “I
couldn’t stay away. Can we talk?”

Concordia took a deep breath. “Come
in.” She opened the door wider. As he passed her, she couldn’t help
but notice that his neck and wrists had been touched by the sun
over the past few weeks, and the wavy black hair now curled past
his ears. She resisted the urge to smooth it out of the
way.

“
Did Mr. Langdon let you
take these?” she asked instead. She gestured toward the
roses.

“
He helped me cut them,
actually—who knew there was so much involved in snipping a simple
rose?—and sent me away with his blessing. For you,” David said,
handing them to her.

She closed her eyes for a moment and
breathed in their gentle fragrance. “They’re lovely. Come into the
kitchen while I find a vase.”

“
Where’s Ruby?” he asked,
sitting at the well-worn table while Concordia rummaged in
cabinets.

“
Out shopping.” Concordia
pulled down a vase and soon had the flowers settled in. “Mr.
Langdon certainly grows a beautiful rose,” she murmured.

“
Still, it’s a poor
expression of apology,” David said soberly. He reached over and
took Concordia’s trembling hands in his. “Dean Maynard wrote me,
and recounted the whole story of what happened that night. I had no
idea. Even so, I behaved abominably in the square that morning,
just at the time when you most needed strength and
comfort.”

Concordia swallowed back
the lump forming in her throat. She would not cry. Again. She
would
not
.

She could only trust herself to nod,
pulling her hands away. She returned to shifting the flower stems
in the vase, tucking them here and there, struggling to regain her
composure.

“
Am I forgiven?” David
asked anxiously.

Concordia took a deep breath and met
his eye. “Long ago. I should have answered your letters, but…I
couldn’t find the words. It was a difficult time.” She touched the
petals gently.

David nodded. “I understand that
better now. At least we have this chance to talk before you
leave.”

Concordia’s hands stilled. “You know
I’m leaving?”

“
Miss Hamilton wrote to say
you’re taking a trip with her.”

“
Oh. What else did she
say?” She couldn’t imagine Miss Hamilton telling David about the
Pinkerton assignment, or the risk of revenge by the remaining
members of the Inner Circle.

David leaned forward, lines of worry
creasing his forehead. “Precious little, which makes me wonder.
Knowing Miss Hamilton’s line of work, I’m skeptical that this is
the trip of leisure she implied in her letter.”

Concordia looked past his
shoulder, through the sunny kitchen window. She focused her
attention on the wild daylilies outside, against the sweep of green
grass. “Well, it’s leisure for
me
. I need a change of
scene.”

David’s frown deepened. “You know,” he
said mildly, “you never look directly at me when you’re
lying.”

Drat.
Concordia gave an exasperated sigh and met his eyes. “What do
you want me to say? We have this argument again and again. You
don’t want me to ‘get involved,’ or ‘take chances.’ I’ve come to
realize that I cannot live that way. I cannot simply be a
bystander.”

In her agitation, she stood
and paced the room.

David stood as well. “Just
be honest with me! Why are you going on this trip?”

Her back stiffened as she
looked away. “The Inner Circle killed Isley and Hitchcock. In their
jail cells, right under the eyes of the law. Lieutenant Capshaw and
Miss Hamilton think it would be wise for me to leave town for a
while.” She turned back to face him, her eyes brimming with tears.
“I kept it from you because I don’t want you to tell me I’m in this
pickle through my own fault, and that I should have listened to
you.” She tilted her chin defiantly. “Because, even now, I would
make the same choices again.”

David walked over and put
his hands on her shoulders. She felt her neck tingle and her cheeks
grow warm.

“
Concordia,” he said in a
softer voice, pulling her gently toward him, “I promise, I will
never again make you defend what you do. You have proved, time and
again, that you are capable of taking care of yourself.” He gave a
shaky laugh and held her close. “I just want to take care of you,
too. If you’ll let me.”

Concordia smiled through
the last of her tears as David brushed them from her cheeks.
“Yes.”

She looped her arms around
his neck as he brushed her lips with his, then deepened the kiss.
They stayed like that for a long time.

Ruby Hitchcock, arms laden with
parcels, glimpsed Concordia through the window and was about to
knock to get help with the door. Until she saw the young lady
professor being thoroughly kissed by Mr. Bradley.

Land sakes, it took him
long enough
. The matron smiled and walked
around the path to the front door.

THE END

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