A Match of Wits (14 page)

“Theodore will never agree with the idea of you going back to work.”

“What everyone seems to have forgotten is that Theodore is not in charge of me. I am an independent, successful woman. It’s time I remembered that and stopped mooning over a gentleman who clearly has no romantic interest in me at all.”

“If Zayne
didn’t
have a romantic interest in you, I doubt he would have scratched Mr. Murdock’s name out of his journal, something I remember you making sure to point out to me.”

“I thought you were going to cease with the whole matchmaking business.”

“Oh, right,” Drusilla said. “But I really must voice my concern about you going back to work. Someone truly does want you dead, given that you were almost run down by a carriage the moment we returned to the city, and don’t forget all those threats you received before we left to go out west.”

“I’m hardly likely to forget that someone left a P-I-G’s head on my front porch, Drusilla. It was a grisly scene, made all the more horrific now that I have Matilda, and believe me, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Have you forgotten that the note attached to that head stated your head would be next?”

Before Agatha could respond, a carriage pulled up next to them. And in the blink of an eye, Drusilla shoved Agatha out of the way even as a pistol appeared almost instantaneously out of her reticule.

“Honestly, Drusilla,” Eliza Beckett said as her head poked out the window, her red hair styled to perfection underneath the fashionable hat she wore, “you’ve knocked poor Agatha to the ground. Is that any way to treat a lady who looks about ready to give birth?”

Picking herself up from the sidewalk, where she’d unfortunately fallen after Drusilla’s shove, Agatha rubbed her elbow and grinned. “What are you doing here, Eliza?”

“Hamilton and I were just at Gloria’s, taking Viola to see Zayne, and . . . well . . . Gloria thought you might want to talk. Hop in.”

Shaking her head, Agatha nodded to Matilda, who was straining against the leash, her interest fixed on something in the distance. “I don’t think Matilda’s done with her little adventure yet. You should walk with us.”

“What a lovely idea, especially since the day is turning downright brisk, what with that wind and all,” Eliza said before she grinned. “And while it’s apparent you’re toasty warm, a condition no doubt brought about by the rage you’re currently experiencing due to my annoying brother-in-law, poor Drusilla’s shivering.”

“Gloria told you about Zayne, did she?” Agatha asked before she turned to Drusilla and noticed that the lady was indeed shivering. “Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?”

“Really, Agatha, after spending so much time with me, I’d have thought you’d come to the realization that I’m one of those suffer-in-silence types.”

Rolling her eyes, Agatha nodded to Matilda. “I’ll grab her head, you take her backside, and, Eliza, you’d better scoot over to the far side of the carriage, because I don’t think Matilda’s going to like this.”

“Why do I have to grab her backside?” Drusilla asked in disgust.

“Ladies, allow me,” the coachman said as he jumped down from his seat and gestured them out of the way, sending Agatha a pointed look. “You, Miss Watson, are apparently supposed to be in no condition to hoist a pig into a carriage. Go get settled and I’ll see to the beast, but may I add that it’s delightful to see that you haven’t changed a bit?”

Agatha smiled, but before she could respond, Matilda—evidently taking exception to being called a pig, or perhaps she didn’t like the word
beast
—yanked the leash straight out of Agatha’s hand and took off like a flash. It took a few minutes to run her down, and by the time they got her into the carriage, Drusilla was no longer shivering but sweating. The coachman was eyeing Agatha in amusement, probably because she’d been the one to catch her pig and had then
wrestled the dear up and into the carriage. Finally settling back against the seat, Agatha grinned at the coachman as he shook his head and looked at Eliza. “Where to, Mrs. Beckett?”

“I think a nice ride along Broadway might be in order,” Eliza said. “I’ll let you know if we decide to stop somewhere along the way.”

The coachman nodded and shut the carriage door. A moment later they started down the road.

“So much for remaining inconspicuous,” Drusilla muttered as she readjusted her wig.

“If you truly wanted to remain inconspicuous, Drusilla, you should have left Matilda behind,” Eliza said with a fond smile at the pig. “She is, after all, the reason I was able to track the two of you down so easily.”

Drusilla glanced to Matilda. “I wasn’t given a say in the matter, Eliza. I talked Agatha into leaving Matilda behind, but the annoying creature somehow managed to slip out of the house and catch up with us. The moment Agatha saw her, carrying her leash in her mouth no less, she was adamant about letting her pet join us.”

“What a bright girl you are,” Eliza cooed to Matilda, earning a glare from Drusilla in the process. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, since we’re now moving, and toward Broadway, would anyone be opposed to me running a few errands? It’s rare I’m infant-free these days, and I need to stop by B. Altman’s to check on a special order I placed last week.”

“We are not going to B. Altman’s,” Drusilla said firmly.

Narrowing her eyes, Eliza gestured to Agatha. “Fine, by all means, let’s not distract Agatha from her troubles by doing something safe, like shopping. Instead, why don’t we just take her back to Zayne’s house, where you and I both know
she’ll do her very best to sneak out and will probably end up in the slums.”

Drusilla patted her wig and smiled a rather strained smile. “Shopping sounds delightful.”

“I thought you’d see it my way.” Eliza settled back against the seat and turned her attention to Agatha. “Now then, before we get to B. Altman’s, I’d like to hear your thoughts about Zayne.”

“He’s clearly turned mentally deficient while he’s been away.”

“I would love to argue that point, but since Gloria did mention the pesky little fact that Zayne’s been trying to find you a man, well, there’s really nothing to argue, is there?” She leaned closer. “He’s hurt you again, hasn’t he?”

Seeing no reason to deny it, because Eliza, out of all Agatha’s friends, had always known exactly how she really felt about Zayne, Agatha nodded. “He has.”

Pulling her into a tight hug, Eliza blew out a breath. “I’m so sorry, darling, but he’ll come around.”

“I don’t want him to come around, and I don’t really want to talk about him right now.”

“Fair enough,” Eliza said as she released Agatha. “We’ll talk about shoes.”

Agatha’s spirits began to lift as Eliza launched into a ridiculous discussion about the latest styles, most of which Agatha was fairly certain her friend made up on the spot, but time flew as they rumbled down the street, and before she knew it, they’d arrived at B. Altman’s.

Cautioning Matilda to behave herself, Agatha rolled up a carriage blanket and put in under the little pig’s head before climbing out the door with the help of the coachman. She discreetly rearranged stuffing around her middle that had
begun to slip and then followed Eliza and Drusilla into the store. They made their way down a marble-covered aisle, but Agatha stopped when her stuffing slipped again.

“I’ll catch up with you two in a moment,” she said. “I need to visit the retiring room and make some adjustments before someone notices I’m looking a little lumpy.”

Drusilla nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

“I don’t need a nanny, Drusilla. I’m perfectly capable of staying out of trouble for a few minutes.”

Pushing down her spectacles, Drusilla glared at her. “I realize you believe I’m paranoid, but someone might have noticed us walking Matilda before and followed us here.”

“No one knows about Matilda.”

“Mary does.”

“And since she’s probably still out west, spending her ill-gotten gains, I highly doubt we’ll run into her in the midst of this fine department store.” Not giving Drusilla time to argue further, Agatha headed off for the retiring room, just making it through the door before her stuffing slid down her legs. Hobbling over to a private stall, she slipped inside, closed the door, and put everything back in place. When she was certain she was again looking expectant and not lumpy, she headed back into the parlor area of the room and paused before the mirror, unable to stop the grin that spread over her face.

She was a sight—of that there could be no debate. She’d tucked her hair under a garish red wig she’d given to Piper to use for dress up before she’d headed out west. Because Piper had apparently used it well, the wig was missing chunks of hair, which was why Agatha had plopped a large hat over top of it, one that tied around the chin with a lovely purple ribbon. Add in the fact she was wearing huge black spectacles
and a dress that could almost be considered a circus tent, she was fairly unrecognizable. That meant she’d be able to shop in safety because no one could confuse the image she saw in the mirror with that of Miss Agatha Watson, especially since, her figure being sufficiently stuffed, she was round as a barrel.

Hurrying through the door, anxious now to purchase a few new things, she stumbled to a stop when she spotted Matilda sitting smack dab in the middle of the marble walkway. “How in the world did you get in here?” she asked as she bent over, picked up the leash, and looked around. Not seeing the coachman anywhere in sight, she squared her shoulders. “You’re quite sneaky, aren’t you, darling, and it was really very clever of you to figure out how to get out of the carriage. But I’m going to have to take you right back there. This is one of those fancy stores, and they won’t appreciate you being here.”

Matilda sent Agatha a pitiful look.

“Oh, very well, I’ll sit with you in the carriage while Eliza finishes her errands, but next time, since it’s clear you can’t behave, I’m leaving you at home.”

Hugging the side of the aisle while pretending it was completely normal to have a prancing pig at her side in the midst of the dress department, Agatha spotted a rather stern-looking gentleman talking with some customers in the millinery department. She yanked Matilda in amongst the dresses. “He’s management, which means both of us will be in big trouble if he sees us, so be quiet.”

Matilda scampered underneath some gowns hanging on a circular rack, leaving Agatha standing on the other side, holding the leash. Striving for an air of nonchalance, she began to sort through the gowns, stopping when her eye
settled on a delicious confection of blue that exactly matched a hat she owned.

A squeal from the middle of the rack had Agatha parting some of the gowns and looking down. Matilda was rooting around under the rack, trying to slurp up what seemed to be some type of sweet from the floor.

“That’s going to make you sick,” Agatha muttered, pulling on the leash and grimacing when Matilda refused to budge. “Listen here, Matilda. You need to leave that alone. I hate to think what will happen to us if you throw that up in the middle of these lovely gowns.”

Matilda continued to slurp, and then she began to make grunting noises, noises that were bound to draw someone’s attention.

“I’m going to take you back to my mother,” she threatened, to which Matilda paid not the slightest bit of attention. “I’ll tell her to serve ham.”

Evidently Matilda hadn’t yet learned that ham and pig meant the same thing, because she didn’t so much as twitch an ear, but continued attacking the sweet.

Knowing there was nothing else to do but drag her pig away from the sweet and out of the store, Agatha shoved some dresses aside and was just bending over when the strong scent of a lady’s perfume caused her to sneeze. Straightening, she sneezed several more times and then raised watery eyes to the lady standing on the other side of the dress rack.

“What is that under there?” the lady demanded.

Agatha opened her mouth as she struggled to come up with a plausible explanation, but then the hair on the back of her neck stood straight up, and she narrowed her eyes on the woman in front of her.

Dressed in the first state of fashion in a green gown paired
with an ornate hat sporting a variety of exotic feathers, the lady’s face was partially obscured by the veiling also attached to the hat, but . . . her voice was, unfortunately, familiar.

Matilda took that moment to wander out from under the rack, a sticky treat a child must have abandoned stuck to her nose; and if Agatha wasn’t so furious, she’d have found the sight amusing.

“Is that a pig?”

Agatha narrowed her eyes on the woman she’d determined was none other than Mary and watched as the lady’s head shot up and they locked gazes. Mary’s eyes widened a second later, when recognition set in.

“You,” Mary snarled.

Agatha forced a smile. “Hello, Mary. Spending some of the loot you stole from Zayne, are you?”

“What are you doing here—and dressed in such a ridiculous manner?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

Not bothering to answer her, Mary took a step toward her but froze on the spot when Matilda let out a grunt that sounded downright menacing, right before she pawed a foot against the floor and charged, her action stripping the leash out of Agatha’s hand.

Letting out a shriek, Mary turned and began to run in the opposite direction, but Matilda was fast for such a little thing, and before Agatha had a chance to move, Matilda had grabbed hold of Mary’s hem, which brought the fleeing woman to an abrupt stop.

“Stupid pig, you’re tearing my gown. Let go of it,” Mary screeched.

To Agatha’s astonishment, Matilda did let go of the gown, right before she dashed underneath it and began emitting
high-pitched squeals, clear evidence she was probably getting ready to begin gnawing on Mary’s leg.

“Get out of there,” Mary yelled as she lifted up her skirt and tried to pull Matilda off her leg, smacking the pig’s head with her other hand.

“Stop that,” Agatha snapped, jolting into motion, the only thought rolling through her mind was that of saving her pig.

Snatching up a wire dress form that was showcasing a lovely gown of purest ivory, she aimed it like a lance and rushed toward Mary, smiling in grim satisfaction when the dress form caught Mary in the stomach and pushed her backward.