Page 29 of A Lesson in Propriety (Merriweather Academy for Young Ladies #1)

Twenty-Nine

“Leaving with his dog and a rucksack certainly doesn’t make Norbert look guilty at all, does it?” Seraphina muttered as they walked up the drive and headed for the castle, everyone having opted to not use the landau as the day was beautiful and there was a lovely breeze blowing in off the lake.

“I hate to jump to conclusions when Norbert has been growing on me, something that took me by surprise after our first disastrous meeting, but ... innocent people usually don’t bolt without an explanation,” Drusilla said. “I suppose we can at least be thankful, since Norbert figured out that Fenna Larkin might have told us something unfavorable about him, that we don’t have to worry about having a possible murderer roaming around the castle, unless he sneaks back onto the grounds because he’s still determined to find that trunk of maps.”

“Perhaps the goats should return to the castle, and I think I should put some bells on the ferrets as another way to at least get a heads-up if Norbert does return in a sneaky fashion,” Annaliese said right as Irma and Wilhelmine trundled past them in Wilhelmine’s phaeton, Rhenick’s mother calling over her shoulder that the girls had decided to have lunch with their father and weren’t going to join them.

“That was very sweet of your sisters to forgo an afternoon by the water in order to spend time with your father,” Drusilla said as Wilhelmine and Irma continued barreling up the drive.

“My sisters can turn somewhat hovering anytime one of our parents isn’t feeling up to snuff, even though Father assured me this morning that it was just a summer cold,” Rhenick said.

Drusilla smiled. “Summer cold or not, it speaks highly of your sisters that they’d want to spend their Sunday with their ailing father instead of seeking out a more amusing afternoon. That suggests your sisters aren’t going to give me nearly as much trouble as everyone seems to think they will once the academy opens.”

He returned the smile. “I never said they’re not exceptional young ladies, but that doesn’t mean they’re not a little too exuberant at times, and they definitely have a penchant for mischief.”

Before Drusilla could respond to that, Irma and Wilhelmine came strolling down the drive to join them, Irma waving a piece of paper in Drusilla’s direction.

“Riley forgot to give you this telegram and told me to tell you that it was delivered about an hour ago and that the telegram boy was practically beside himself because it’s a telegram from a Pinkerton agent.”

“It must be an update from Agent Pearson,” Drusilla said, taking the telegram from her mother. “He told me he’d make an effort to check in every month or so, even if there wasn’t much to report.”

Rhenick moved closer to her. “Is this Agent Pearson looking into Ottilie’s whereabouts for you?”

“He’s actually searching for the man who absconded with the Merriweather fortune. I haven’t even spoken to Agent Pearson yet about Aunt Ottilie, as I was unaware she’d actually gone missing during my last meeting with the Pinkertons before I left New York. Truth be told, I wasn’t all that concerned that we hadn’t heard from my aunt until we got here since she was never one to adhere to a strict schedule. With that said, though, given all the odd happenstances we’ve encountered, I think continuing to believe Aunt Ottilie simply got delayed is wishful thinking. That means I’ll ask Agent Pearson in my return telegram if he’d be willing to look into Aunt Ottilie’s disappearance as well.”

Irma’s forehead puckered. “I’m not sure why you think a Pinkerton agent would want to take on more work for us, as I didn’t think they were even still investigating Sanford and his whereabouts since we don’t have the means to pay the exorbitant fees they charge for private cases.”

“Do you not recall that I told you, before we left New York, that I’d struck a deal with the Pinkertons and that they agreed to stay on our case on a contingency basis?” Drusilla asked.

“I don’t recall that, although I readily admit I was in a rather depressed state for a year or two, but...” Irma frowned. “You struck a deal with the Pinkertons?”

“I wasn’t very well going to simply walk away and forget what Sanford had done to our family merely because we weren’t capable of paying the going Pinkerton rate,” Drusilla said. “And before you ask, I offered to pay double the Pinkertons’ normal fee, but only if Agent Pearson found Sanford, or more importantly, our money. Since the Pinkertons are well aware that Sanford made off with millions, they didn’t hesitate to agree to my terms.”

Drusilla smiled. “I imagine Agent Pearson will be agreeable to another contingency case, especially when Aunt Ottilie’s also worth millions, having inherited half of the Merriweather fortune from her parents with Father inheriting the other half. It might be difficult, though, to uncover answers, as it appears that Norbert, who I’ve been told might have had something to do with Aunt Ottilie’s disappearance, could have intentionally disappeared, as well.”

“Norbert’s disappeared?” Irma asked.

“It appears so, but before we delve into the particulars of yet another peculiar afternoon, what say all of us get a little more comfortable?” Drusilla suggested before she urged everyone into the house, then rang for Mrs. O’Sullivan and asked for a coffee and tea cart after she reached the sitting room.

A sliver of warmth crept through her when Rhenick sat down beside her after she’d taken a seat on a settee, but before she could contemplate exactly why she was suddenly feeling a bit flustered, Irma sat down on the other side of her and shifted around in an obvious attempt to get more comfortable, her shifting leaving Drusilla with no choice but to scoot closer to Rhenick, which did nothing for her flustered state as she was now practically pressed up against the man.

“Now that everyone is all nice and cozy,” Wilhelmine began as she sent Irma a hint of a wink before she nodded to the telegram Drusilla was still holding, “perhaps you should open that and see what it says.”

Taking a second to do exactly that, Drusilla scanned the contents of the telegram, then scanned them again to make certain she’d read it correctly the first time.

“What does it say?” Irma asked.

Drusilla lifted her head. “Sanford was spotted by one of Father’s old business associates a few weeks ago in Florida, on the Gulf side, and he also spotted Sanford’s yacht docked in a harbor down there.”

“I would have thought Sanford would have hied himself off to some obscure Scottish estate since he always talked about living in Scotland someday,” Irma said. “What else does it say?”

Drusilla glanced at the telegram again. “Just that Sanford apparently named his yacht ... the Revenge .”

Irma’s eyes took to flashing before she began drumming her fingers against the arm of the settee, something that was quite unlike her.

“Are you alright?” Drusilla asked.

“It’s difficult to say because this is quite a lot for a lady to have to take in.” Irma lifted her chin. “Nevertheless, I suppose there’s no delaying telling you what I probably should have mentioned months ago, especially not when Sanford has returned to the States, and undoubtedly done so because he’s apparently not done with me yet, given what he named his yacht—and with my money, no less.”

“You think you’re the object of his revenge?”

Irma’s lips thinned. “Unfortunately, I don’t think , I know I am, although I had truly hoped his thirst for revenge would have been appeased after he left me destitute, but clearly that’s not the case.”

Drusilla stilled. “I’m not sure I understand what that means.”

“It means that Sanford must have somehow learned I wasn’t tossed out into the streets.” Irma blew out a breath. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already on a train, heading this way, or if he’s sailing his yacht up some river that’ll dump him into Lake Michigan, where he’ll then be able to sail practically right outside our front door.”

“But showing up here would place Sanford at great risk, although ... do you think his thirst for revenge might be why he’d be willing to incur such a risk, and if so, why would he want revenge against you in the first place?” Drusilla asked.

Instead of answering her, Irma rose to her feet, moved to the window, pushed aside a heavy velvet curtain, and peered through the glass. When she finally turned, she then stalked her way to a dainty chair done up in a peach floral motif and actually flung herself into it, an unusual action that sent alarm slithering up Drusilla’s spine.

“I suppose before I explain anything, I should admit right from the start that I’ve been less than upfront regarding how it came to be that our fortune went missing,” Irma finally said. “Know that I’m not proud of withholding the truth from my own daughters, but know that I did so because...” She released a dramatic sigh before she, surprisingly enough, slouched back against the chair. “I believe I’m indirectly responsible for your father’s death, and directly responsible for us being left destitute.”

Silence was swift until Annaliese walked across the room, snagged hold of a chair, and muscled it over to where Irma was still slouching, plopping down on it a second later. “Father died because he had a weak heart.”

“True,” Irma didn’t hesitate to say. “But what precipitated his heart going out was the apoplectic fit he suffered, apparently brought on after Sanford told your father that he was tired of hiding the fact he was in love with me, had been in love with me since we were children, and knew for a fact that I was in love with him.”

Annaliese blinked. “You were in love with Sanford Duncan?”

“I’ve never been in love with any man, and certainly not with Sanford,” Irma countered. “Yes, Sanford and I were good friends growing up, and yes, I knew he was somewhat infatuated with me. However, my father had been in talks with Morton’s father from the time I was thirteen, using those talks to hammer out a marriage contract that was acceptable to both families. It was agreed upon that Morton would receive a substantial dowry from my father, as well as the benefit of combining two Knickerbocker families, which I would benefit from, as our social position would be firmly cemented from that day forward, as would be the social position of any children we might have.”

“I was almost tossed out of the Four Hundred after rescuing one tiny little roach, which I had the audacity to name, no matter that I’m from a Knickerbocker family,” Annaliese pointed out. “That suggests our societal position wasn’t firmly cemented in the least.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” Irma agreed. “Not that any of us realized that at the time, but since I was given the cut direct the moment our fortune went missing, something that has certainly been a difficult spoonful of medicine to swallow, I’ve now realized that it was beyond ridiculous for me to believe that my society position was unshakeable.”

She lifted her chin. “To return to my story, though, I should have been more aware that something was odd with Sanford because after your father died and during my first year of mourning, he was overly attentive to me, going to great lengths to distract me from the monotonous manner my days had turned while observing my mourning period.”

“Weren’t you worried,” Drusilla began, “since you said you were aware that Sanford was infatuated with you when you were younger, that his infatuation might return once Father was no longer in the picture, and he was spending so much time with you?”

“I thought Sanford had put his infatuation aside directly after he learned your grandfather had solidified a marriage contract with Morton,” Irma said. “Sanford certainly understood how marriages worked between the socially elite, and knew that Morton had more to offer me than he ever would, given that Sanford was not a Knickerbocker, nor was he in line to inherit more than a modest fortune.”

Irma gave her temple a rub. “Looking back, I was a complete idiot because, not long after my wedding, Sanford began running across Morton at all his clubs. Before I knew it, Sanford had turned into Morton’s most trusted solicitor as well as good friend.”

“But where did you fit into this friendship between Father and Sanford?”

“Sanford and I remained friends, and he was the gentleman who frequently escorted me to society events your father didn’t care to attend, something that evidently led Sanford to believe I was secretly in love with him.”

“It certainly wasn’t your fault,” Mrs. O’Sullivan began as she wheeled a coffee and tea cart into the room, followed by Mr. Grimsby, “that Sanford assumed you enjoyed having him escort you around town because you were in love with him. One would have thought he’d have realized that, like most society matrons whose husbands were never around, you were simply looking at his attentiveness as one would look at Mr. Ward McAllister’s attentiveness to Mrs. Astor, the only difference being that Ward was married while Sanford was not.”

“Perhaps I should have questioned why Sanford never married,” Irma muttered. “Although, in my defense, I simply thought he appreciated his bachelor state far too much to consider tying himself down.” Her lips thinned. “That belief came to a rapid end, though, when Sanford learned Drusilla and Elbert were delaying their wedding until I was out of mourning. He then took me completely by surprise when he suggested, and over what I thought was simply one of our casual dinner engagements, that we should start planning for a double wedding, with one couple being Drusilla and Elbert and the other being me and Sanford.”

“Good heavens,” Drusilla breathed.

“Indeed, and to make matters even more concerning, as I was trying to wrap my mind around what had almost sounded like a peculiar proposal, Sanford rose to his feet, moved directly next to me, bent down on one knee, and then declared his never-ending love for me.”

Drusilla blinked. “That must have been a bit of a shock for you.”

“Well, quite.”

“What did you say after Sanford declared his never-ending love for you?” Annaliese asked, sitting forward.

“I’m afraid, given the shock I’d just been delivered, I told him that he needed to discontinue being ridiculous or he was going to ruin the friendship—and only friendship—that was between us.” Irma winced. “That was definitely a mistake be cause Sanford descended into a rant, spouting all sorts of crazy things, starting with how he’d been biding his time to be with me for years, had deliberately befriended Morton as a way to remain close to me, and then admitted what he’d said to Morton the day Morton died, which left me realizing that I was in the presence of a man who seemed to be suffering from some type of delusional state.” She caught Drusilla’s eye. “That’s when I told Sanford that his emotions were obviously getting the better of him, which he didn’t appreciate, and had him storming out of our dinner.”

“He didn’t storm for very long because he continued managing Merriweather affairs to his very great advantage for almost another year,” Drusilla pointed out.

“Oh, he was back the next day,” Irma said. “Bearing flowers and begging my pardon, telling me that he’d had too much wine the previous night, and that while he would always love me, it truly was a friendship type of love. He then said that he hoped he hadn’t ruined our friendship by his behavior the night before.”

“And because of that, you let him stay on in his position and never thought to tell either me or Annaliese what had happened?”

Irma’s lip quivered. “I know that was a mistake, Drusilla, but in all honesty, I was a little frightened of Sanford at that point. I truly thought it might be for the best if I just didn’t say anything about his less-than-acceptable behavior to anyone because I was afraid he’d begin being a little loose with his tongue and twist our relationship around to all the gentlemen in Sanford’s many clubs. That would have certainly cast aspersions on a reputation I’ve always taken great pains to maintain. I also figured it was best not to make any waves since Elbert would be taking over for Sanford in a year, and then I’d be able to distance myself from him. I never in a million years thought that I’d infuriated Sanford to such an extent that he’d decide to completely ruin me to extract his revenge for my not returning his love.”

Drusilla reached out and took hold of Irma’s hand. “Do you actually believe, though, that he could even now be traveling here with the express purpose of extracting additional revenge against you?”

“Unfortunately, given the months that have elapsed since Sanford sailed away on his yacht, I think he’s had time to think the matter through. And, if I’m not mistaken, he’s either decided that I’ll be more agreeable to marrying him now since I’ve been shown how difficult life can be without money, or he’s decided he needs to assuage his desire for further revenge, which, in his mind, might mean he’s decided he needs to get rid of me once and for all.”