In Good Company (12 page)

Glancing down the first page, Millie lifted her head. “Are you aware that you’re supposed to be at some place called the Newport Casino today at two?”

Everett nodded. “For Caroline’s tennis match.” He pulled out a pocket watch. “I’ll be cutting it close, but I’m sure I’ll still be able to make it.”

“You’re just going to dump the children off at your cottage and go watch a tennis match?”

“I won’t have time to travel with all of you to the cottage, so
it’s more a case of abandoning them after I have the hansom cab we’ll hire drop me off at the Casino.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “And no, I’m not changing my plans, because I promised Caroline I’d try my very best to be at her match, and a gentleman always honors his promises.”

“You promised to take responsibility for the children, yet I’m not sure you’re exactly honoring that promise.”

“I hired
you
,” Everett said. “That was me, being responsible.”

“Not that it’s going to benefit me in the least to bring this up, but you only hired me because you were desperate. If you were truly responsible, you wouldn’t have hired a nanny you believe is capable of drowning your wards.”

“I think I might have changed my mind about your capabilities.”

“You
think
?”

“We still have the rest of the summer to get through, Millie.”

Millie’s lips twitched, but since she didn’t want to give him the impression she found him amusing, she bent her head and began reading the schedule he’d given her again. “Did you know you’re hosting a ball toward the end of the summer?”

“Caroline thought that would be a lovely way for me to show off my cottage.”

“Have you ever planned a ball before?”

“My mother normally hosts any balls my family holds, but since she and my father are currently sailing around the world—Father deciding it was time for him to completely step back from the family business—Caroline’s seeing to everything. She’s hired on a woman to organize the event, which means all I have to do is pay an exorbitant amount of money to ensure everyone has a lovely time. Not that I begrudge that expense,” he hastened to add. “I’m afraid I’ve disappointed Caroline quite often of late, which means holding the ball she hopes will be the highlight
of the Newport season is the least I can do to make up for all of that disappointment.”

“Is that why you’re also being so obliging with all the activities she’s planned out for you?”

“I must admit that it is. I normally don’t spend my entire summer away from New York, but ever since I inherited the children, Caroline has not received the attention she deserves.”

“While I will admit, reluctantly, of course, that your consideration for Miss Dixon is very well done, you will
try
to spend some time with the children, won’t you?”

“I’ll try, but I can’t make you any promises, nor can I promise to reject out of hand Caroline’s desire to send the children off to boarding school, something I do believe you mentioned when you first burst into this room.”

“That’s a subject you and I will certainly discuss further, but for now, will you at least promise to speak with Elizabeth regarding her father’s yacht?”

Everett frowned. “What about Fred’s yacht?”

“Elizabeth believes it’s missing, and she thinks you stole it, or perhaps she said ‘sold it.’”

“I certainly did no such thing, and quite honestly, I completely forgot all about Fred owning a yacht until you just mentioned it.”

“Well, he apparently did own a yacht, and it might benefit your relationship with Elizabeth if you were to tell her you didn’t sell it.”

“I’ll tell her straightaway, although I have to wonder what really did happen to the yacht. It’s not like it’s a usual occurrence for one of those to go missing, and . . . how does she even know it’s missing?”

“She went down to the docks—on her own, no less—and couldn’t find it. As for wondering what happened to it, I’m sure
all you need to do is pen a letter to the attorney, a Mr. Victor, from what Elizabeth said, and ask him where it is.”

Everett suddenly sat forward. “Did you just say that Elizabeth traveled to the docks on her own?”

“I did.”

Running a hand through his hair, Everett blew out a breath. “I swear she’s going to be the death of me, and . . . who knew eight-year-old girls could be so headstrong? But getting back to Mr. Victor, I’d love to ask the man about the yacht, but I have yet to even speak with the gentleman.”

Millie frowned. “That seems rather odd, since Elizabeth mentioned Mr. Victor was also her father’s business partner as well as his attorney. Shall I assume you’ve located a man of affairs or a secretary Mr. Burkhart used?”

“There is no man of affairs or a secretary—at least none who’ve come forward as of yet.” Everett set aside his napkin. “That’s why Fred’s estate is still unsettled. From what I’ve been told, Mr. Victor has apparently gone off on holiday and has yet to return. I’m not even sure he’s aware Fred and his wife died.”

Millie tilted her head. “If Fred’s attorney is off on holiday—what would appear to be a very extended holiday, at that—how did you come to find out you’d inherited the children?”

“Fred sought out the services of another attorney in Boston, a Mr. Colfax, just a month or so before he died, and had that man draw up a new will. Unfortunately, that’s all Fred had that particular attorney do for him, apparently leaving all of his other business matters in the hands of Mr. Victor.”

“Why would Fred leave the matter of his children with one attorney, while leaving matters of his estate and business ventures with another?”

“I have no idea, but I will admit that I was taken completely by surprise when I was contacted by Mr. Colfax and learned that
Fred left me the care of his children. Granted, I am a godparent to them, but I didn’t know I was signing up for taking over their care when Fred and his wife, Violet, asked me to take on the godparent role. I thought a godparent was just responsible for giving nice gifts at Christmas.”

“While your idea about what a godparent is responsible for is incredibly disturbing, I find I’m more disturbed by something else.” She leaned forward. “Don’t you think it strange that Fred and his wife died in a buggy accident shortly after hiring a new attorney to draw up a new will? And,” she continued before he could answer, “isn’t it odd that Fred’s attorney, a man Elizabeth said was very good friends with her father, would be gone on holiday when Fred and his wife died
, and
that he hasn’t contacted you yet . . .
and
Fred’s yacht is missing as well?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If you ask me, something troubling is afoot.”

For a second, Everett simply looked at her, but then, to her extreme annoyance, he had the audacity to laugh. “What an interesting imagination you have, Millie.” He let out an honest-to-goodness snort. “Next thing you know, you’ll be trying to convince me something more troubling than a missing yacht is afoot—something like . . . murder.”

Placing her napkin on the table, Millie rose to her feet. “You may laugh all you want, but I’m telling you now, something is gravely amiss. I, with or without your assistance, intend to get to the bottom of it.” Turning on her heel, she headed for the door, ignoring Everett’s chuckles as she did so.

6

A
s Millie questioned Abigail about the effectiveness of private investigators, in a lowered and somewhat mysterious voice, Everett fought the urge to grin. Looking out the window of the hansom cab he’d hired, he found Newport spread out before him in all her charming summer glory, reminding him that he was, indeed, on holiday. That meant he needed to go about the task of enjoying himself—even if he knew Millie was going to do her very best to plague him about the
Boston Affair
as she’d begun to call what she now believed was some type of dastardly conspiracy.

Feeling the cab begin to slow, all thoughts of enjoyment faded in a flash as he braced himself for certain battle when Millie sat forward and peered out the window.

“This does not look like your cottage,” she said, swiveling her head to pin him with eyes that had begun to spark. “Why aren’t we at your cottage?”

“I told you that I have a commitment today, which is why I’m being let off at the Newport Casino.” He gestured out the window, pretending he hadn’t noticed that Millie seemed to be
swelling on the spot. “Did you know that the Newport Casino, which is a social club by the way, not a gambling resort, only came into being last year because Mr. James Gordon Bennett got into a disagreement with the powers that be at the Reading Room?”

“I really don’t . . . Did you say there’s a reading room here in Newport?” Millie asked.

His lips curled at the sight of her now smiling his way, until he realized why she was smiling. Refusing to sigh, he leaned forward. “There is an establishment
called
the Reading Room, but I’m afraid I must tell you that it’s not exactly what you’d assume it would be. It’s a gentlemen’s club, there’s never any reading done, and . . . ladies aren’t allowed entrance.”

Millie wrinkled her nose. “Why would anyone name a club the Reading Room if there’s no reading to be had?”

“It’s just one of those oddities of life, I suppose.”

“It’s a disappointing oddity,” she mumbled before she crossed her arms over her chest, looking, to his surprise, rather adorable at the moment.

Shaking away the whole adorable idea, because that certainly wasn’t an appropriate thing to think about one’s nanny, Everett reached for the door, got out of the cab, and looked back at Millie, who was craning her neck, trying to see past him. Without taking time to consider his actions, Everett held out his hand to her.

“Would you feel better if you could get an unobstructed view of the Newport Casino?” he asked.

His hand was immediately taken, and he found himself feeling a little peculiar when Millie grinned at him as he helped her from the cab. Not particularly caring for the peculiar feeling, he released his hold on her, turning to help the children out of the cab next. When he held out his hand to Abigail, though,
she shook her head in a rather sad sort of way and sent him a pitying look.

“Getting them out of the carriage was probably not the brightest thing you’ve done today, dear,” she said.

Turning, he discovered that Millie was no longer standing by the hansom cab, but was already halfway across the lawn, heading directly for the Casino, with the children scurrying right beside her.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Abigail.

“I doubt that, but you can always hope,” Abigail called after him as he bolted away.

Catching up to Millie a moment later, he took her arm, hoping to slow the rather rapid pace she’d been setting. “I wasn’t really intending on giving you a tour when I got you out of the cab.”

“Then why did you have us get out?” she asked before she abruptly began steering him to the right. “Children, come see. I think it’s a croquet court.”

With squeals of delight, the three children flew past him before he had the presence of mind to call them back. By the time he made his way over to the croquet area, while still holding tightly to Millie’s arm since he was unwilling to lose track of her, Elizabeth had a mallet in her hand, and Thaddeus and Rosetta were going about the tricky business of picking out balls.

“I think black would be the perfect color for your mallet, Mr. . . . er . . . Uncle Everett,” Elizabeth said, sending Millie a small smile before she picked up the black mallet and held it out to him.

“While I would love to challenge you in a game of croquet, Elizabeth, I can’t do so today, since Miss Dixon’s expecting me to watch her play tennis, and I’m running late for her game as it is.”

“Everett really shouldn’t break a promise,” Millie said when Elizabeth started scowling his way. “But I’m more than happy to play with you.”

Thaddeus began scowling as well, but at Millie, not Everett. “How do we know you won’t try to do something sneaky to us while we play?”

“How do I know you won’t try to do something sneaky to me?” Millie countered.

All three children immediately began to voice their opinions about that, but before Everett could intervene, a booming voice rang out behind him, calling his name.

“Everett, there you are, my friend. Caroline was beginning to worry.”

Turning, Everett discovered Mr. Dudley Codman striding his way. The gentleman’s face was ruddy, probably from too much time in the sun, and the large paunch the man hadn’t had the last time Everett had seen him was straining the buttons of his jacket.

Letting go of Millie’s arm because Dudley’s gaze was locked on that arm, his expression a little confused, Everett stepped forward and held out his hand.

“Dudley, it’s good to see you. I think it’s been, what, a year since we last spoke?”

Dudley shook Everett’s hand and smiled. “I believe it has been about a year. I’ve been off to England on business for quite a few months, so . . . we haven’t seen one another since last summer.” He nodded to Millie. “I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to this lovely lady.”