Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (31 page)

Sadie shook her head. “So you’ve won over both my parents. And how did you manage that?”

“By telling them I am in need of a wife.”

Laughter bubbled up. “No, the truth. What did you tell them? As a student of human nature, I’m always looking for the best ways to guide subjects toward a specific outcome.”

His expression sobered. “That is what I told them, Sadie. Actually, I did tell them a little more than that, but I was careful to let the conversation naturally flow in that direction.”

“What direction?”

“As a student of human nature, I’m sure you understand that information freely given is suspect, but information that the subject—or in this case, subjects—feel as if they are prying out of by way of confession is the information most believed.”

She leaned forward, her heartbeat throbbing at her temples. “
What
else did you tell them?”

“That my first acquaintance with you was both memorable and impossible to forget.”

“Those two things mean the same, Jefferson.”

He chuckled. “In the strictest sense, I suppose so. However, neither your mother nor your father pointed that out.”

“What other information did they pry out of you?”

Twenty-Three

S
adie was obviously riled up and ready for battle. Jefferson decided he would avoid telling her the details of his lengthy conversation with Seamus Callum and his wife.

Just how he would avoid this remained to be seen. And yet she would likely not take well to the fact that not only had he gained the favor of both Callums and their youngest son, but he had also secured permission to court Sadie.

It was all a means to an end, and yet Jefferson allowed himself to feel just the slightest bit of enthusiasm at pretending to be the pretty blonde’s beau. He would do it all up right, if he could recall just how to make a fuss over a woman. It had been far too long since he’d spent time paying a call on a lady.

But then he’d realized that the first time he laid eyes on Sadie. Their fall in the carriage had reinforced the knowledge.

And then came the kiss.

Kisses, he corrected, for the second one had been all his to initiate.

And their evening under the stars.

“Jefferson.”

He swung his gaze to collide with hers. “Yes, dear?”

“Truly you are insufferable. What possessed you to ingratiate yourself to my family?”

Time to come clean with at least part of the plan. “The better to steal you away when the right moment comes.”

“I don’t follow.”

He paused to consider how to best gain her trust. “You and I have cases that may very well be connected.”

“You have no idea what case I am working on.”

He had not expected that comment, although he had to give her credit for the casual way she offered her response. The only thing to do was bluff.

“Your case involves a dealer in arts and antiquities named Valletta.”

There. The way she blinked. Tried to hide her surprise. This girl was good, but he was better.

“You haven’t said anything in response, Sadie.”

She continued to stare.

“No matter. I want Valletta and so do the Pinkertons. We can work together to achieve this or I can do it alone. However, if I do it alone, you may not get your chance at him.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s a promise.”

“I am not yet confirming or denying your supposition.” Sadie shifted positions. “However, theoretically, what do you propose?”

“I propose that we help one another to determine just what Valletta is up to, and in exchange both cases are brought to a satisfactory resolution.”

“For argument’s sake, I will ask how you think this will be accomplished.”

Jefferson suppressed a smile. He understood her reservations. He also knew she would accept his terms. She had to.

“We work together, as I said, sharing sources and forming a team to bring Valletta and his associates down.” He sensed her next question. “And no, I do not know why you want him or what he has done to make the Pinkertons find cause to investigate. What I do know is that he’s been a source of irritation for me and the British Museum for a very long time.”

At the mention of the British Museum, her eyes widened. Only for a moment, he noted, and yet impossible for him to miss.

Her recovery was swift, as was her rebuttal. “You assume I am investigating this man because you saw me reading an article about him.”

So she recalled that. He allowed a smile. “In a newspaper that was four months old.”

Sadie rose, her sandwich obviously forgotten. As she moved toward the other side of the room, Jefferson wondered if she might be heading
for the door. When she turned to retrace her steps across the carpet, he feigned indifference.

The lovely blonde stopped in front of him and crossed her arms over her tiny waist. If the effort and the expression she affected were intended to make her look stern, she failed miserably.

“I suppose you believe that gaining my parents’ trust will convince them to allow me to leave with you.”

“Much as I am enjoying my visit—and your cook has promised a tasty ham for supper tomorrow night, by the way—I cannot solve my case from the comfort of Callum Plantation.”

She was looking out the window now, but he resisted the urge to follow the direction of her gaze. “If you’re thinking my father will let me climb into a carriage and leave with you, I assure you that will not happen.”

He leaned back to watch her as she settled once more on the window seat and returned her attention to him. “It will.”

Color rose in those pretty cheeks. Oh, but she was lovely when she was angry.

“Explain yourself, then.”

“They want you wed.” He shrugged. “So I will marry you. A honeymoon is a wonderful time to travel. I thought we would start with a trip to Newport.”

Again he noted her brief look of surprise. So Newport was the location where she would be doing her investigating. It had been a guess based on the season and the fact that New York’s elite—most of whom outdid one another regularly with purchases of art and artifacts—gathered there this time of year.

Her laughter once again filled the room. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in a very long time. And believe me, I’ve heard some ridiculous things lately.”

Jefferson held his ground. “It can work, and it will.”

“It cannot work if I refuse to go through with it.” A door closed somewhere down the hall, and she jumped. “And I will not lie to my parents,” she said in a much softer but no less insistent voice.

“I am not asking you to lie, Sadie,” he said gently. “In fact, I am not even asking you to play along beyond the obvious request that you not mention my plan to anyone.”

Someone knocked, and once again she jumped. She exchanged a worried glance with him and then rose to walk toward the door. He sat very still. If he were to be caught in Sadie’s bedchamber, it would not bode well for her. It would, however, hasten the next part of his plan.

“Yes?” she said, one hand on the knob as she softly turned the skeleton key to lock them inside.

“It’s Julia, miss. I’m wondering if you’ll be needing anything further tonight.”

Jefferson relaxed and thought about what he had learned recently regarding an Irish lass with lovely red hair and a fresh heartbreak, courtesy of a rogue whose reputation with the ladies had him fleeing New Orleans some time ago. It was amazing how much the hired help were willing to tell a man the boss trusted. Even more amazing was the depth of the hired help’s knowledge.

But then he’d long ago learned to go to the source, to those who were in a position to see and be trusted. They were the ones who generally had the most information. And that information was much more likely to be true than anything he would get from other sources.

Jefferson grinned and then reached for the sandwich he’d set aside. Indeed, the Callum cook did make a fine roast.

Had there not been a pressing case to solve and his reputation to regain, Jefferson might have considered prolonging his time at Callum Plantation at least until he tired of the food and the company. And that could have made for a lengthy visit.

“No, Julia. Thank you, but I’m fine,” Sadie said through the closed door.

“And your breakfast tomorrow?” the girl continued from the other side of the door. “Will you want a tray brought up?”

Jefferson nodded, hoping she would think he wished her to avoid the dining room at breakfast time tomorrow.

“That won’t be necessary. I believe I’ll dine downstairs. Good night now.”

She turned back toward him with a triumphant expression.

He smiled, happy he was the one who got what he wanted. He might be rusty after almost a year behind bars, but he still had the skills. Soon he would be convincing his superiors at Scotland Yard of this fact as well. But first he must complete this part of the plan.

“Well, then,” he said as he rose. “I suppose I’ll leave you for now. Please wear something pretty to breakfast. I do like you in blue.”

“Of all the nerve.” When she saw he intended to walk out her door, she hurried to stand between him and the exit.

“Can’t bear to see me leave?” he asked as he extinguished Kyle’s personal lantern, plunging the room into darkness.

“Hardly, but I cannot bear the thought of being caught having a man leave my bedchamber. So wait here.” Sadie opened the door, peered out, and then closed it once more. “All right. The hall is empty. Hurry and go.”

When Jefferson had successfully slipped into a room at the far end of the hall, Sadie closed her door and sagged against it. What in the world was she going to do?

Her attempt at telling Mama about her employment as a Pinkerton agent might have failed miserably, but she had no doubt that Daddy would have believed her. He already believed Uncle Penn was a spy. Why wouldn’t he think the same of her since she regularly kept company with her uncle?

She let out a long breath, reached over to light the lamp, and then moved toward the wardrobe, where Julia had hung a nightgown on a peg for her. Telling Daddy was something she should have done four years ago when she came home the first time after agreeing to a job in Pinkerton’s Chicago office.

Though she arrived on the doorstep of the downtown office building with the intention of applying for a secretarial position that would justify her desire to remain in Chicago instead of returning to Louisiana, Mr. Pinkerton had other ideas.