In Good Company (31 page)

“I’ve never claimed to be a proper lady, Mr. Victor. In fact, I’m just the nanny.”

“You
are
a proper lady,” Everett said as he reached up and
pulled the rag off his face, sporting not one but two black eyes. “And you’re not
just
the nanny.”

Warmth began traveling up Millie’s neck to settle on her face, but before she could so much as get a word of appreciation out of her mouth, Mr. Victor let out another grunt.

“Do not tell me, Mr. Mulberry, that this woman, the one who recently broke my nose, has been hired to watch Fred’s children? Surely you must realize that putting those precious scamps in the direct vicinity of a woman prone to violence is hardly in their best interest.” He mopped at his nose again. “She hit me in a manner that suggests she’s spends quite a bit of time pummeling people. That clearly proves she’s unstable—and proves you’re not fit to see to the children’s basic needs, since you hired her as a nanny in the first place.”

“I’ve hardly spent my life pummeling people, sir,” Millie said before Everett could reply. “Well, there was this one boy at the orphanage, Freddy Franklin, but . . . I digest from the topic at hand.”

“Digress,” Everett said right before he laughed. “I hate to point this out, Millie, but it might benefit you to go back through all the D words, since they seem to be giving you trouble today.”

Millie’s lips twitched. “And that explains why I was so dismayed—another D word that I know means
upset
—about not having my sensible clothing available. My aprons come in remarkably handy for holding my dictionaries.” Additional warmth spread over her when Everett smiled.

Hoping that his swollen eyes made it difficult for him to see that she was blushing, she turned back to Mr. Victor, who was looking a little confused. “As I was saying, sir, I would not have felt the urge to enter the brawl if you would have stopped trying to do Everett in. If it escaped your notice, he’s rather brawny and could have made mincemeat of you, but he was acting
far too much the gentleman. That forced me to put an end to your nonsense before someone lost an eye or, heaven forbid, a brain, which is what I think you were intending when you lifted up that water pitcher. Quite frankly, if anyone possesses an unstable nature, it’s clearly you. You attacked Everett with no provocation, which I know means
goading
, or something close to that.”

Mr. Victor stopped mopping his nose. “He told me he’d only relinquish the children over his dead body. I thought it would expedite matters nicely if I took it upon myself to arrange that for him. If he’s dead, it’ll save me the trouble of seeing him arrested. He has, if you’re not aware of this, stolen three children in what I’ve come to believe is a dastardly attempt at getting his hands on Fred’s vast estate.”

“What are you talking about?” Everett demanded as he squinted in Mr. Victor’s direction. “I have no design on Fred’s estate—don’t even know the extent of it, by the way—and . . . even if it is as vast as you claim, all of it will be put into trust for the children.”

“A likely story.” Mr. Victor sat forward. “If you don’t have an interest in Fred’s estate, why, pray tell, did you abscond with his children? I have Fred’s last will and testament in my jacket pocket—a will that clearly designates me as guardian of the children and executor of Fred’s estate.”

Everett ran a hand through hair that was standing on end. “And I, Mr. Victor, have a will back in New York that’s dated a mere month and a half before Fred died, giving me custody of the children and naming
me
as executor.”

Mr. Victor’s face darkened. “You’re lying. I was Fred’s attorney, and he never had me draw up a second will.”

“An attorney by the name of Mr. Samuel Colfax drew up Fred’s last will,” Everett said. “I assure you, it was all done very
properly, and done, given what I’ve been able to piece together, after you left Boston on that mission you claim Fred gave you.”

Mr. Victor’s brows knit together. “Mr. Colfax made up a new will?”

“Are you familiar with the man?” Millie asked.

“We’re casual associates, and he is a well-respected attorney in the Boston area, but . . . why would Fred have done that?” Mr. Victor asked. “Besides being his attorney, I was also Fred’s business partner, and . . . I considered Fred to be one of my closest friends. That’s why he wanted me to have guardianship of his children if anything ever happened to him and Violet.”

Millie bit her lip. “Maybe he didn’t trust you in the end, maybe he thought you were up to no good, and . . . maybe he knew you were considering . . . murder.”

For a second, silence settled over the storage room, until Mr. Victor laughed.

“Murder is not amusing, Mr. Victor,” she said with a sniff.

“But a nanny with an overactive imagination certainly is.” He pressed the rag against his nose again. “I was not even in the country when Fred died, but on a yacht, halfway across the world.”

“On Fred’s yacht,” Millie pointed out. “And forgive me, but it’s somewhat suspicious that you were conveniently on Fred’s yacht when the poor man died. And why are you only now coming to collect the children?”

“Fred made up a list that had no less than fifty names on it of inventors he thought worthy of further investigation. Those inventors were spread throughout the world, but Fred believed their inventions, at least on paper, warranted a second look. Since Fred was in the process of working with numerous inventors here in the States, he did not have the time to travel the world—thus he asked me to do it.”

Everett leaned forward. “Weren’t you concerned your law practice would suffer, being out of Boston so long?”

“Fred was my only client, and . . . as I said before, we were business partners as well. I invested my own money in the most promising inventions, and shared in the profits when those inventions became lucrative.”

Speculation sparkled in Everett’s blackened eyes. “And did many of those inventions turn lucrative?”

Mr. Victor shrugged. “Some did, most did not, but it was the allure of the next big invention that drew my interest, Mr. Mulberry.”

“Allure doesn’t cover the cost of gowns from Worth, Mr. Victor,” Everett said softly.

“Are you insinuating that I’m only here to collect the children because I want to get my hands on Fred’s estate?”

“I don’t believe I’m
insinuating
anything.”

Mr. Victor shot out of his chair and began dragging it toward Everett, who jumped to his feet and clenched his free hand into a fist. Darting between the two gentlemen before the burly staff member of the Casino could move, even knowing it wasn’t exactly a prudent move, Millie spread out her arms and stood her ground as Mr. Victor stumbled to a stop, glaring at her.

“Get . . . out . . . of . . . my . . . way.”

“Not likely,” Millie said. “Although I must say, you’ve now firmly convinced me you’re unfit to raise Fred’s children, given that temper of yours. That probably explains why Fred sought out another attorney and had that attorney draw up a new will.”

Mr. Victor glared at Millie for a long second before his gaze darted around her and settled on Everett. “Tell me this, Mr. Mulberry—in addition to having Mr. Colfax draw up a new will, did Fred give him the ledgers pertaining to all of his investments?”

“Fred’s ledgers have been nowhere to be found,” Everett admitted.

Mr. Victor plopped right back down on the chair he’d been dragging behind him. “What do you mean? Fred had numerous ledgers, all organized by date in the office he kept at home, and . . . I had copies of those ledgers, which I found missing when I opened my office after arriving in Boston. Quite honestly, I thought you’d taken them.”

Everett retook his seat. “Contrary to what you seem to believe about me, Mr. Victor, I’m not the type of gentleman to break into someone’s office. That’s why I mailed a letter to your law office, giving you my direction and telling you I’d taken the children.”

“There was no letter from you when I returned,” Mr. Victor shot back.

“I certainly don’t know what to tell you about that, but . . . if you didn’t receive my letter, how did you discover that I’d taken the children to New York, and then here to Newport?”

“It was not without difficulty,” Mr. Victor admitted. “After stopping in at my office, where I immediately discovered all of Fred’s ledgers missing, I hurried to Fred’s home, stunned to find the house closed up and seemingly abandoned. I looked through a window that hadn’t been fully obscured by the drape and was horrified to see all the furniture covered in linen.” He blew out a breath. “One of Fred’s neighbors, apparently the suspicious sort, confronted me, and it was through that man that I discovered Fred had died.”

“That must have made for quite the shock,” Millie said.

“I was completely stunned, heartbroken over the loss of my good friend, and . . . confused beyond belief when the neighbor told me that you, Mr. Mulberry, instead of keeping the children in Boston, had taken them back to New York with you.”

“I live in New York,” Everett said. “Taking the children with me was my only option.”

“You should have kept them in Boston.”

“As a businessman, I’m sure you understand, given that most of my extensive real estate investments are in New York, why I moved the children there.”

“And those extensive real estate investments are exactly why Everett doesn’t need to get his hands on Fred’s money,” Millie added with a nod. “Which puts your interest in Fred’s money in question again, Mr. Victor.”

“I don’t need Fred’s money either, Miss Longfellow.”

Before Millie could question Mr. Victor further, the door to the storage room burst open. Standing in the doorway was none other than Caroline, her expression livid as she set her sights on Everett and marched into the room.

“So the rumors swirling around Newport are true. You’ve been in a brawl, and done so right in front of our friends.” Caroline stalked closer to Everett, coming to a stop directly in front of him. “Did you even consider the embarrassment you were going to cause me before you so foolishly engaged in a fight?”

Everett narrowed a black eye on Caroline. “I’m afraid those thoughts never entered my head, my dear, considering I didn’t have much time to think about anything once Mr. Victor attacked me.”

Letting out a sniff, Caroline looked to Mr. Victor before returning her attention to Everett. “You couldn’t have been taken completely by surprise, given the condition of that gentleman’s nose.”

“I was responsible for the nose, Caroline,” Millie said.

Caroline drew herself up. “Do not presume to address me so informally, Miss Longfellow, but . . . surely you’re not suggesting you were brawling as well, are you?”

“I couldn’t very well just stand by and watch Everett get smashed over the head with a pitcher of water now, could I?”

“Ladies should never . . . brawl. It’s unseemly.”

“Then it’s a good thing you weren’t here, Miss Dixon, or else Everett might no longer be in possession of his wits.”

“My head appreciates your interference, Millie,” Everett said, his words having Caroline immediately looking his way again.

“I simply don’t understand what could have possessed you to engage in a rowdy round of fisticuffs while our friends were trying to enjoy a peaceful respite.”

“I didn’t intend on entering a brawl when I got up this morning, and the brawl happened in a private dining room, not the public one.” Everett nodded to Mr. Victor. “He attacked first, and all because he believes it’s his right to take the children away from me to live with him.”

Caroline’s eyes grew round before she actually smiled at Mr. Victor. “Those are marvelous words to hear, sir, but . . . why in the world would you want those children?”

“He’s not taking the children,” Everett said before Mr. Victor could answer her. “Fred clearly left the care of his children to me, which means Mr. Victor has no right to them.”

“That still remains to be proven,” Mr. Victor said.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Mr.
Duncan
Victor, would you?” Caroline asked as she began walking closer to him.

“I am Mr. Duncan Victor.”

For some reason, Caroline looked absolutely delighted to hear that. “But Mr. Victor, our families have been introduced before, although it’s been a few years. I’m Miss Caroline Dixon, of the New York Dixon family.”

She sent Everett a frown. “Why would you punch—or allow Miss Longfellow, from the sound of it, to punch—a gentleman
who comes from one of the oldest and most distinguished families in Boston?”

“You know Mr. Victor?” Millie asked slowly.

“I thought I made myself clear, Miss Longfellow. I don’t want you to address me further, but yes, I know Mr. Victor, only as a slight acquaintance, of course, but . . .” Caroline smiled at the gentleman in question. “You actually
want
to take Fred’s children?”

“Of course I want to take them, but . . . it remains to be seen whether or not I will be given that privilege. Mr. Mulberry told me Fred left a will that’s dated after the one I have in my possession, so . . . I’ll need to see that new will, and then . . . we’ll go from there.”

Caroline gave an airy wave of her hand. “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” She turned and arched a brow at Everett. “Will it, darling?”

Millie watched as Everett simply sat there for a long moment, looking at Caroline as if she’d suddenly sprouted horns on her head.

“You want me to just hand the children over to Mr. Victor?” he finally asked.

“That would solve all of our problems very nicely indeed.”

“For some reason, I don’t believe it will.” Everett glanced to the door. “But since it does appear as if the authorities have arrived, why don’t you meet me back at Seaview in an hour or two? We’ll discuss everything then.”

“If you’d have bothered to check your schedule, you’d know you’re supposed to be dining with me this evening at Mr. and Mrs. Olmsted’s cottage.”

“Besides the fact that I’m not in any condition to dine out this evening, I was under the belief that our plans had been canceled since you’re put out with me again.”