Page 2 of Kidnapped (The Browns of Butcher’s Hill #1)

V irginia Wiest glanced at her maid’s reflection in the mirror as the young woman pulled the brush through her thick auburn hair. Colleen was humming under her breath while holding several hair pins between her teeth.

“It’s going to be a cold one, miss,” Colleen said around the pins. “Best stay inside.”

“I’ve dressed warmly. I must get out of this house,” she said. “And the sun is shining.”

“As you say, miss. But we must be careful so you do not take a chill. You’ve just recovered!”

Virginia covered the maid’s hand with her own. “You are a dear, Colleen. I may have never left that bed behind us without your attention and care. But I swear I’ll scream if I don’t get outside, even for just a bit, and you know once I’m at the cannery I’ll be warm as can be.”

“Well, let’s just hope Mr. Wiest doesn’t come home and send me off for not taking care of you.”

Virginia smiled. “He knows better than to interfere between his only child and her personal maid.”

“I hope so,” Colleen said as she put the last pin in the elaborate roll across the back of Virginia’s hair. “I like my work here, miss. There you go. All fixed and pretty.”

“Thank you.” Virginia looked at herself in the mirror. She was still very thin, even though she’d been eating well and taking the tonics the doctor prescribed. Her freckles stood out sharply against the very pale skin of her nose and cheeks, and no amount of lemon juice would get rid of them. “I’ll meet you at the door in half an hour?”

“I’ll be ready, miss.”

Virginia would have walked the two blocks in the past, but she acquiesced to Colleen’s insistence that she take the family carriage and was glad of it after feeling the bite of the wind against her cheeks as their butler, Smith, opened the double doors and she crossed the drive a few short feet to Mr. Turnbull, who was waiting to help her and Colleen into the carriage.

The carriage pulled through the massive wrought-iron gates of the Wiest Cannery as Virginia gazed out the window at the familiar scene before her. She could see the Chesapeake Bay, cold and restless, past the buildings where the oysters were dumped from thick netting and workers began to sort them by size, the smallest for eating on the half shell, the medium sized for stews and soups, and the largest ones for frying. Soon they had pulled up to the office doors, and her coachman handed her down.

Virginia climbed the stairs, greeting employees as she went. She could feel her cheeks growing hot and her heart beating quickly as she was surrounded by the good people in her family’s employ, smiling at her and very glad to see her out after her recent illness. It was not that she did not appreciate their kind words and goodwill, which she knew to be sincere, it was just so very difficult for her to be the center of attention, to try and reply to each person, to be surrounded. Colleen was at her elbow in a moment.

“Pardon us,” she said clearly. “Miss Wiest is expected by her father. Pardon us.”

Virginia smiled and allowed Colleen to guide her through the crowd of well-wishers. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly. “I was starting to feel faint.”

“I know, miss. And there is that unpleasant man who is your father’s secretary,” she said as she nodded down the hallway where Everly was going into his and her father’s office.

“Mr. Everly? He’s always so kind to me!”

“Of course he is, miss. He’s hoping to marry you.”

Virginia stopped in her tracks. “Whatever would give you that idea?”

“You’ve only got to watch him when he’s speaking to you or your father and then hear him speak to other employees. Or a lowly maid.”

“Has he been rude to you, Colleen? I will see an end to that.” She turned to her father’s office door.

“Oh no, miss. Please. He will be one hundred times worse if you say anything, and I don’t care what he thinks of me. Please don’t.”

Virginia looked at her maid, at the distressed look on the woman’s face. “I shan’t, then, but you must tell me if he ever, well, you know, bothers you. I won’t have you put upon as if you have no champions.”

Colleen nodded and dropped her eyes as Virginia opened the door.

“Miss Wiest! It is so wonderful that you are feeling better. We’ve all been worried, although your father has been keeping me up-to-date on your health. My mother and I prayed daily for your recovery,” Everly said after hurrying around his desk to greet her. He looked at Colleen. “Take your mistress’s cloak, girl. Pay attention.” He turned to smile at Virginia.

“Her name is Miss Hughes, Mr. Everly,” she said softly. “I know what a stickler you are for the proprieties, sir. Such an admirable quality.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded, his lips pursed. But that was all he could say as her father burst through the inner door.

“Ginny? Whatever are you doing here? Is everything all right?” he boomed and kissed her cheeks. “My beautiful girl!”

“Everything is fine, Father. I’ve been indoors for so long; I needed to get outside for a bit.”

The outer door opened then, and a man came in, his eyes on the papers in his hands. “Mr. Everly?” He looked up and turned quickly back to the door. “Oh. So sorry. I’ll come back later.”

“What is it, Mr. Brown?” her father asked.

Virginia could feel her face heat and she looked away, her lashes fluttering and her pulse beating wildly. Phillip Brown was the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on. Tall and solidly built with dark hair, just a bit overlong. He glanced her way and smiled. Oh dear!

“May I say, Miss Wiest, we were all glad to hear you were making a recovery. Very glad.”

“That’s enough, Brown,” Everly said brusquely, glancing from Brown to her very red cheeks. “I’ll take care of your problems in a moment. Wait in the hall.”

Brown nodded at Mr. Everly and pulled the door closed behind him. She stared at the frosted glass and backward letters of her father’s name as if she could still see him. What was it about him that always caught her eye? They’d only spoken a time or two and no more than a greeting and reply. What he said to her today was the most words he’d ever spoken to her! But Everly had not allowed her to reply.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry Mr. Everly. I wasn’t attending. What were you saying?”

Everly maneuvered himself between her and the door, as if to block out any thoughts of Brown. “Since you are feeling better, can I convince you to join me for luncheon at the new Barnum’s City Hotel? Mother would be happy to accompany us and act as chaperone.”

“Now, Everly,” her father said, his concerned eyes on her. “Not a week ago she was too weak to climb out of her bed. Too soon!”

“It was two weeks ago now, Father. I’m feeling much recovered,” she said quietly. She realized then she’d set herself a trap. She didn’t want to go to luncheon with Mr. Everly and his mother, but now she could not say she was still feeling poorly and could think of no other excuse. She turned to Everly. “Perhaps one day next week?”

“That would suit me well, but I’ll have to check our office schedule in case your father is in need of my help,” Everly said with a broad smile.

“Of course,” she said. She turned and kissed her father’s cheek. “Will we see you for dinner, Father?”

“I believe so, dear. Our negotiations should be completed soon.”

“Negotiations?” she asked.

“Nothing to worry yourself about, Miss Wiest,” Everly said. “Nothing for you to worry about at all.”

“I’m not worried, Mr. Everly,” she said as she pulled on her pale blue leather gloves that matched her heavy cape lined with cream-colored fur. She looked up at him with a small smile. “I’ve been involved with our family’s business for years.”

“A credit to the company,” he replied, his eyes shifting to her father.

“Good day to you, Mr. Everly. See you at dinner, Father.” Virginia turned to the door, waiting a moment until Colleen settled her cape around her shoulders. “Let us brave the cold, Miss Hughes.”

Mr. Brown leaned against the wall opposite her father’s office, his legs crossed at the ankles, his eyes studying the papers in his hands. He straightened quickly when she came through the door.

“Good day to you, miss.”

“And to you, sir,” she replied and lowered her eyes.

“I think you may be correct, Colleen,” she said once they were seated in the carriage. “Mr. Everly has an interest in me.”

“He certainly does! He’s interested to have a subdued wife when she inherits the family business.”

Virginia laughed. “It is not hard to discern you have a poor opinion of the man.”

“Oh. Pardon me, miss. My mother says I am altogether too forward with my opinions.”

“I appreciate your candor, and, in this case, I think you are completely correct.”

Virginia was accustomed to men looking to a marriage with her to line their pockets; however, her father had deterred the worst of them when he told them his only daughter and a board of directors would manage the vast Wiest wealth, business, and properties, not a husband, when he had gone to his reward.

She was tired by the time she was in her room. Colleen helped her with her boots and dress, and she was soon lying down with a warm quilt spread over her.

Virginia could not believe she slept three hours. She dressed quickly and headed below stairs to speak to Cook and Mrs. French, their housekeeper. She was never lax in her duties as her father’s hostess and manager of their sprawling home, other than the several weeks when she had been too ill to get out of bed. She made her way to the sitting room to wait for his arrival. She was just accepting a small glass of wine when she heard his booming voice in the hallway, directing Smith to bring his bourbon straightaway.

“Your cheeks are cold!” she said after kissing him and helping him off with his long woolen scarf.

“I was nearly in the carriage when Everly came out to tell me a messenger had arrived and we’d soon receive word from Darvell about the new shell-crushing machine. Our early bid will get us this equipment before any of our competitors. I was hoping to review the contract, but I was too hungry to go back inside and wait!” Alistair Wiest said with a smile. “And I missed my best girl.”

“You could have waited or sent word, and I would have held dinner. Here is Smith with your bourbon. Let us go into the dining room immediately if you are so hungry!”

“I am. Lead on, Ginny!” He chuckled.

A creamy mushroom soup had just been served when Smith came into the dining room and bent close to her father’s ear. He looked up quickly and wiped his mouth.

“Yes. Send him in,” he said.

The door to the dining room opened before she had a chance to ask her father what Smith had said. Phillip Brown walked in, a leather folder under his arm. He nodded to her and turned to her father.

“Mr. Wiest, I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner, but the papers from Mr. Darvell arrived, and I knew you were anxious to see them. Should I leave them here or have them taken to your office or library?”

“Ah, Brown. Good man. I am anxious to read the contract. Have you looked at it?”

Brown hesitated. “I did, sir. I apologize. It is not within my duties to review contracts, but I admit I’m terribly curious about this new machinery.”

“Well, Brown? What did you see in your review?” Father looked at the servant clearing the soup bowls. “Get another place setting for Mr. Brown,” he said and turned back. “You must be hungry. Sit, man, sit. What are we having for the main course, Ginny?”

“Oh, I couldn’t, sir. I never meant?—”

“I realize that, Brown. Now sit down and tell me what you’ve read.”

Phillip sat down in the chair a servant held for him after removing his coat, which had disappeared into the butler’s hands. Silverware—real silver, he imagined—appeared in front of him, along with crystal glassware. Someone put a bowl of wonderful-smelling soup in front of him. He nearly picked up the spoon when the butler opened a napkin and laid it on his lap. He looked up at the man with thanks. Phillip didn’t know all the ins and outs of dining with rich people. Hopefully, he would make it through the meal without disgracing himself.

Mr. Wiest was looking at the contract he’d pulled from the leather pouch, and Miss Wiest blushed every time he glanced at her. The young lady brought out every protective instinct he had with her slight frame, thinner still after her recent illness, and pale skin. But her eyes and her mouth did not make him feel protective—they made him want to carry her to a dark corner and kiss her until neither knew their names. But that would never happen because she was the daughter of his employer and a gently raised young lady besides. He’d learned to put her out of his mind over the years as it was safer—and saner—to not wish for something one could never have.

“Was your outing tiring, Miss Wiest?”

She nodded. “More than I expected. But I’ll never fully recover if I don’t increase my walking and activities.”

“I hope you rest when you can.”

“I do. Thank you for your concern.”

Phillip filled his plate with every offering shown to him, even occasionally signaling for a larger portion. Mr. Wiest continued to read and asked him a question or two. Phillip glanced at Miss Wiest, and she was smiling at him.

“Miss Wiest?”

“You are a hearty eater, Mr. Brown.”

“That’s the polite description, I imagine. My sister says I have a hollow leg.”

She laughed, a merry sound, and her blue eyes twinkled. After a tasty dessert, Phillip rose from his seat.

“Thank you, Mr. Wiest, for the delicious dinner. I think I ate enough for two.”

“Nothing the matter with enjoying a good dinner and plenty of it,” he said and patted his stomach. “Won’t you stay for a glass of wine or a cordial?”

“Thank you, sir, but I best be getting home. Early this morning, my sister found a woman laying on our front stoop, near frozen and unconscious. We got her inside and my sister sent for the doctor, who said he thought she would likely recover, although she has a cut and a bump on her head. But I want to know if her condition has improved and who she is.”

“Dear Lord, Brown! And you don’t know who the woman is?”

“No, we don’t. I’m hoping she’s awake and feeling better. She wasn’t when I left this morning.”

“But what if she hasn’t woken?” Miss Wiest asked, leaning forward in her chair, concern on her face. “What will become of the poor woman?”

“We won’t put her out on the street. She’ll be taken care of until we know where she lives. I’m just hoping there’s no jealous or violent husband out looking for her.”

“Oh dear!” Miss Wiest said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Now, Ginny,” her father said.

“I am incredibly privileged. It is my duty to do what I can,” she said and turned her eyes on Phillip. “Can you let me know, in the next day or so, what you have found out?”

“I can, Miss Wiest, but I imagine my concerns for you are the same as your father’s. You are just feeling better. I wouldn’t want you to exert yourself and make yourself ill again.”

“Do not patronize me, Mr. Brown. I’ll expect to hear from you soon. Good night, gentlemen,” she said as she rose and walked out of the room. Her father stood and followed her with his eyes.

“That girl reminds me so much of my dear departed wife. Stubborn,” her father muttered. “I assume you know better than to upset her with any details, Brown.”

“Certainly, sir. Thank you for dinner,” Phillip said and made his way to the massive marble foyer where the butler waited with his coat and hat.