A Match of Wits (20 page)

“I won’t leave, not again. Whoever wants me dead has taken too much from me as it is. I was forced to stay away from my family and friends for a year. I missed births and anniversaries and . . . everything.” She blew out a breath. “We’ve been going about it all wrong. I—”

Zayne let out a grunt. “Absolutely not.”

“She hasn’t said anything yet,” Theodore pointed out.

“She doesn’t have to,” Zayne returned. “She wants to offer herself up as bait.”

Agatha’s mouth went slack. “How did you know that?”

“Because I know you, and I’m right, aren’t I?”

Pushing aside the pesky realization that his knowing her so well had caused her heart to lurch yet again, Agatha forced a shrug. “It’s the only way to put an end to this, and since I understand what I’m facing, I’ll be prepared.”

“You can’t be prepared for an assassin, Agatha,” Zayne argued. “They’re stealthy.”

“Mary’s not.”

“The person who hired her certainly is, since Theodore hasn’t been able to track that person down—and he’s been trying for over a year.”

“Which is exactly why I’m going to stop hiding and go out in the open. I’m not willing to live my life skulking in the
shadows for the rest of my days, and this is the only way I’ll be able to reclaim it.”

“I can’t allow it,” Theodore said.

“I don’t need your permission, Theodore, but I would appreciate your help.”

“Is this what you meant when you told me you came out tonight to seek closure?” Francis asked.

“Not exactly,” Agatha said, carefully avoiding Zayne’s gaze.

“What do you mean, not exactly?” Francis demanded. “What else are you up to?”

“I’d rather not say until the boy we sent out with a message returns.” She looked at the watch she’d pinned to the underside of her sleeve. “But he’s been gone over an hour, so I hope we’ll have an answer soon.”

“An answer to what?”

“Why, the answer just walked through the door,” Dot said, rising to her feet and gesturing to the dirty boy making his way through the crowd. He pushed his way through the patrons and stopped beside their table.

“Did you have any luck?” Agatha asked.

“I did, and he’s right outside,” the boy said.

“Who is right outside?” Zayne demanded.

Ignoring the fact that her heart had taken to aching, Agatha squared her shoulders. She’d known the minute Zayne had professed his fondness for her that she had to give up her hopes and dreams of spending her life with the man. She could no longer deny that she was in love with him, but she needed him to return that love, and he . . . didn’t.

It was time to firmly put him aside and get on with her life, a life that was meant to be spent pursuing her stories and trying to correct injustices against people like Dot. Dot’s
words had resonated within her very soul, and she knew God had sent those words to her to remind her that, yes, her heart was broken once again, but her hands and her mind weren’t. She needed to move on, move forward, and she was going to have to do that without Zayne.

But she’d promised God clear back in Colorado that she’d help Zayne recover, and this—what was waiting outside the pub—was the last piece he needed to truly heal.

“Would you go invite him in?” she asked the messenger, who nodded and hurried away.

“What are you up to, Agatha?” Zayne asked.

“I think we might have found Willie.”

“Who?”

“Willie Higgins, the man you bought your mine from.”

“I’d forgotten all about him.”

The corners of her mouth curled. “Well, we have been busy of late, and you have been stuck in bed and plagued with mysterious illnesses, but I didn’t forget.”

For some reason, Zayne’s eyes began to blaze. “You have to stop trying to put me and my life to rights, Agatha. Coming here tonight was beyond idiotic, and that you did so because of me . . . Well, I won’t stand for it anymore.”

“You won’t have to,” she said softly right as a man with his hat in his hand and looking rather careworn stepped up to the table. His gaze darted around and settled on Zayne.

“Mr. Beckett,” the man exclaimed. “Good heavens, sir, what are you doing here?”

Zayne’s eyes cooled immediately. “Mr. Higgins, how nice to see you again. I’m apparently here to meet you.”

Willie Higgins frowned. “That messenger didn’t say anything about you, Mr. Beckett. The boy just told me that there was a matter of business to be discussed, and I thought, given
that I let the owner of this pub know I’m in need of a job, that he’d found one for me.”

“That’s how I knew, when Agatha asked about Willie Higgins, where to find him,” Dot said speaking up as she smiled at Agatha.

Willie switched his attention to Agatha and frowned, causing Agatha to grin. “No need to fret, Mr. Higgins. I am indeed Agatha. I’m just in disguise.”

“How . . . interesting,” Mr. Higgins muttered before he looked back to Zayne and suddenly seemed a little nervous. “I take it the mine turned out to be a bust?”

“He’s not here to ask for his money back,” Agatha quickly reassured the man. “In fact, since you brought up needing a position, I do think you’ll soon find you have no need to continue searching for one.” Rising from her chair, she moved to Willie’s side, patted his arm, and turned and caught Zayne’s eye. “You’ll take matters from here?”

Zayne frowned. “You’re not staying?”

“There’s really no need. I’ve done what I promised to do, and now it’s time for me to leave.” She turned and nodded to Francis. “I’m not feeling too well at the moment, Francis, and I’d appreciate it if you’d see me home.”

Pretending not to see the looks of concern being sent her way, especially coming from Zayne, she waited for Francis to reach her side, took the arm he offered her, even though she knew they looked rather strange since she was disguised as a man, and with her head held high walked out of the pub.

H
aving woken up incredibly sore the day after Matilda had knocked him to the ground, Zayne had taken Dr. Gessler’s advice and retreated to his bed in order to allow his body time to heal. He’d resolutely remained in bed, even though his soreness had disappeared after the first day, hoping that Agatha, since it had been her pig that had landed him in bed in the first place, would pay him a visit and they could clear up matters between them.

That hope, however, had never materialized, and he’d begun to think, since he’d been languishing in bed for over two days, that it probably never would.

Reaching over to grab a stack of papers concerning the new mining deal he was in the midst of completing with Willie, Zayne tried to shove all thoughts of Agatha aside. He began leafing through the pages but gave up a moment later when she continued to plague his every thought.

Why she was still so upset with him, he hadn’t a clue. Yes, he’d blundered with the whole marriage situation, but Agatha had never before denied him her company, even when
she was irritated with him. And that led him to believe that she might be a touch more than simply irritated with him at the moment.

He had a sneaking suspicion her avoiding him had something to do with that disturbing “closure” business she’d mentioned to Francis. But since he didn’t understand what the closure matter involved
and
Francis wasn’t responding to any of the messages he’d sent a servant to deliver, he was left with unanswered questions.

The one thing he did know for certain was that he missed Agatha’s company quite dreadfully, missed their amusing conversations and the sound of her laughter and . . .

Heels clicking against the floor had him leaning forward, a slice of disappointment stealing through him when only his mother came into view.

“Expecting, or hoping, for someone else?” Gloria asked as she moved to the bed, plucked up some of the papers strewn across it, and began to busy herself with mothering.

Taking a step back after plumping up his pillows, she shook her head. “Honestly, darling, I thought after our last chat that you were determined to fix matters with Agatha. Telling the poor lady you were quite fond of her while you were in the midst of proposing was not really an effective method.”

“Fondness is an emotion that most ladies long to receive.”

Gloria waved the comment away. “You then, from what Cora explained to me, rescinded your horrible offer.”

“I was slightly annoyed over the whole rejecting-me-out-of-hand business.”

“Ah, hmm,” Gloria muttered before she plopped down in the nearest chair and began, much to Zayne’s surprise, to look through the papers she’d scooped off his bed. “Matters going well with Willie?”

“You want to discuss Willie?”

“Until I decide what I want to say about Agatha, yes, I’d like to discuss Willie.”

Realizing that whatever his mother finally did decide to say regarding Agatha was not going to be pleasant for him to hear, he leaned back against his recently plumped-up pillows and summoned up a smile. “Willie has agreed to form a partnership with me and help me rebuild the mine. Hamilton’s been sitting in on our talks, and he decided that this mining venture should be backed by the Beckett name and funds. Because of that, Willie will soon be leaving to set our plans into motion, and the Beckett family should see, in a year or two, a substantial profit.”

“That’s lovely, dear,” Gloria said. “And how do you feel about Agatha tracking down this poor Willie and allowing you to finally do what’s right for the man?”

“I thought you weren’t quite ready to discuss Agatha?”

“I’ve suddenly found my words and organized my thoughts.”

“That’s a little frightening.”

“Yes, it is,” Gloria agreed. “So, tell me, what do you have in mind next?”

“As pertains to . . . ?”

“Agatha, of course.”

“Since she apparently doesn’t want to speak with me, I’m not certain how to proceed.”

Gloria nodded. “That’s exactly what I thought you’d say, which is why Cora and I have come up with a plan.”

“A . . . plan?”

“Indeed. And it’s a good one—one of our best, if you must know.”

“I was under the impression Cora was put out with me at the moment.”

“Oh, she’s furious, but she still adores you, dear. That’s why she’s hosting a intimate dinner party at her house, and we’re going to sit you right next to Agatha.”

“You do remember that, even though Dr. Gessler proclaimed me recovered, he did caution me against placing myself in dangerous situations.”

“He was referring to placing yourself in Matilda’s vicinity, not Agatha’s, and I highly doubt she’ll try to inflict any harm on you while dinner’s being served.”

“Matilda might though.”

“Not if you treat Agatha with the proper amount of respect and don’t get annoyed with her again.”

“That’s a daunting idea, especially since Agatha annoys me frequently.”

“Which I’ve always thought is very telling.”

Zayne quirked a brow. “How is that telling?”

“She brings out emotions in you I rarely see.”

“I get annoyed with you all the time.”

Gloria laughed. “No, you don’t, you’ve only started getting that way since I started meddling in your life, but that has nothing to do with getting Agatha back.”

“I don’t recall asking you to help me get Agatha back. In fact, if we look at this objectively, it might be best if I simply let her go.”

“That’s a horrible idea, and of course you need to get her back. The two of you fit each other to perfection.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“You complete each other. You’re happiest when you’re with her. You smile more, laugh more, and seem more at peace.”

His breath stuck in his throat when it suddenly struck him that everything his mother was saying was exactly the
truth. Zayne caught her eye, saw the compassion in them, and sighed. “I don’t know what to do next.”

“Which is why it’s a good thing you have me for your mother. I have a few ideas—one of which I’m going to ask you to put into motion at the dinner party.”

“And that would be . . . ?

“You’re going to have to grovel.”

“I don’t think I’m capable of groveling, Mother.”

“I’m certain you can summon up a good grovel if you set your mind to it. Consider this—Hamilton groveled, Theodore groveled, and even Grayson groveled. If you want Agatha back, groveling will be required.”

“Did I miss anything good?”

Zayne turned his head, his mood immediately improving when Piper skipped into the room, her golden curls bouncing even though they were tied back with a red ribbon that exactly matched her dress. She stopped by the bed, leaned over, kissed his cheek, did the same to Gloria, and then pulled up a chair. Demurely placing her hands in her lap, she tilted her head. “Mama says to give everyone her regards. She and Ben are off to get ice cream. Even though I love ice cream more than anything, after eavesdropping—I mean, overhearing Mama and Aunt Arabella discussing your sad plight this morning, Uncle Zayne—I thought it would be better if I came over here to offer you some much needed assistance.”

Smiling, Zayne tilted his head. “While I appreciate your giving up a treat in order to help me, darling, I must point out the fact that you’re, well, eight.”

Piper’s expression turned stubborn. “I helped Uncle Grayson win over Aunt Felicia, and I was only six at that time. Age needn’t be taken into account when one is dealing with matters of the heart.”

“Good heavens, you’ve been in your Aunt Arabella’s stash of romance novels again, haven’t you, dear?” Gloria asked.

Grinning, and not appearing at all abashed, Piper nodded. “I do enjoy a good romance, Grandmother, and because of that, I feel I’m becoming an expert on relationships.” She looked at Zayne. “You are a classic case of what a hero should not do to win the affections of the heroine.”

“I hate to tell you this, Piper, but Agatha and I have never been involved in a romantic relationship.”

“And that is why I insisted Mama let me come over here today. I know I’m young and that you’re just humoring me at the moment, but no one has brought up the real problem between you and Agatha.”

“And you’ve figured out what that problem is?” Zayne asked slowly.

“Of course I have. It’s all about feelings.”

The collar of his shirt suddenly felt a little tight. “Feelings?”

“Exactly,” Piper agreed. “I heard Grandmother mention something about groveling, but what should be behind that groveling?”

“Ah . . . feelings?”

“And feelings of the romantic kind,” Piper added before she looked at Gloria. “I know everyone seems to think that if Uncle Zayne just tries again and asks Miss Agatha to marry him properly, everything will work out for the best, but it won’t, not until Uncle Zayne examines himself and decides why he wants to marry her—and not because of that silly idea he had to save her from herself.”

“Saving Agatha wasn’t a horrible reason to want to marry her,” Zayne argued.

“It
was,
as was your proposal attempt,” Piper argued right
back. “You should have taken flowers, red roses at that, and a well-prepared speech where you would have proclaimed your undying love and devotion. That would have caused Miss Agatha to swoon at your feet and accept your proposal.”

Zayne blinked. “Can you honestly see Agatha swooning at my feet?”

“Well, not with that dismal attempt at proposing you gave her. But it might have happened if you’d approached the matter properly.”

“Darling, Miss Agatha is a progressive, independent lady. She’s not the type to expect romance.”

“I’m an independent lady too, Uncle Zayne—at least I will be when I grow up—but I’m telling you right now, I’ll expect romance from the gentleman I decide to marry.”

Glancing to Gloria, Zayne arched a brow. “I cannot believe I’m in the midst of this particular conversation with my eight-year-old niece.”

“She’s always been mature for her age, Zayne,” Gloria returned, “and she’s right. We adults have missed the obvious.”

“Miss Agatha deserves love, Uncle Zayne,” Piper said softly. “If you don’t love her, you shouldn’t have asked her to marry you. And you shouldn’t grovel the next time you see her unless you can figure out how you feel about her.”

“I’m not certain how I feel,” he admitted.

Piper sat up straighter. “Perhaps now would be a good time to examine your feelings.”

Heat began to trail up his neck. “I don’t really think that’s necessary.”

“Do you enjoy her company?” Piper continued, ignoring what he’d said.

“Well, yes, most of the time, except when she’s being irritating.”

“I’ve seen you when Miss Agatha’s irritating you, and most of the time you look amused.”

“That might be true, but—”

“Do you miss her when you’re not around her?”

“Ah, as to that, I suppose . . . yes, I miss her.”

Piper beamed back at him. “Then maybe you really do love her, but since you’re a gentleman and gentlemen are known to be rather peculiar with matters of the heart, you just haven’t realized that yet.”

“I don’t know if I’d go so far as to claim I’m in love with her.”

“Then you shouldn’t ask her to marry you again. It’s not fair to Miss Agatha, and even though I really wanted her to be my aunt, much more so than I wanted Helena to be my aunt, you should leave her alone.”

It hit him then, hard over the head, completely out of the blue.

Piper was right.

It had taken a child to point out the obvious.

Agatha deserved love, and he certainly wasn’t ready, or perhaps even able, to give her what she deserved.

He cared about her, truly he did, but he hadn’t
really
considered love.

He’d rushed his proposal because she’d come to his rescue time and time again. He was at heart rather old-fashioned, and her rescuing him instead of the other way around had rankled. That was exactly why he’d proposed to her in the first place, but . . . he’d been completely ridiculous.

Marriage was for life.

He’d forgotten that.

But . . . he wouldn’t mind waking up next to Agatha for the rest of his days.

Swallowing, he tried to reign in his unruly thoughts. Dwelling on waking up next to Agatha when he was stuck in a room with a meddling mother and a young niece was bad timing. Piper had seemed rather adamant about him not pursuing Agatha unless he was in love with her, but . . . could it be he might be just the teeniest bit in love?

His head immediately began to throb, but before he could contemplate love and whether or not he was actually experiencing it, Mr. White knocked on the door.

“Begging your pardon, Mr. Beckett, but Mr. Higgins is downstairs, along with his wife and two children. He would like a word with you, but I wasn’t certain whether or not you’re up for entertaining.”

Seeing this unexpected visit as a welcome distraction from discussions of feelings, Zayne smiled. “Show them right up, Mr. White. In fact . . .” He turned to Piper. “Why don’t you run down and greet them, Piper? If Mr. Higgins brought his children, they’d probably feel more at ease if you escorted them up here.”