An Agent for Arielle (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 12) Read online

  Indicating the book in her hand, she said, “Miss Marianne was kind enough to lend me this and I need to return it.”

  “What is it?” the woman asked eagerly.

  “Edgar Allan Poe. He crafts some very suspenseful tales. The Murders in the Rue Morgue was especially good.”

  They chatted for a few moments after that. She learned the young woman’s name was Claudette LeBas, a widow from Louisiana. Besides their common tongue of French, her father also owned a sugar plantation.

  They talked for a few more moments before amicably parting. Despite herself, Arielle wondered if she’d come to like Mrs. LeBas. It certainly seemed likely. When she heard the woman tell of her how her father had freed the slaves on their plantation, she couldn’t help but think of Brutus, who had done the same thing.

  Arielle paused in front of the shelf, for all intents and purposes appearing to be viewing the books. Instead, she reflected inwardly. She thought of the handsome giant again. He hadn’t been remotely interested in her. For three days after that rejection, she seesawed back and forth between annoyance and anger.

  Then last night, under the cover of darkness, she came face to face with a sad truth and had to ask herself an important question: was being the object of man’s admiration all she was good for? Wasn’t life more than admiration? Wasn’t it more purposeful than merely being an ornament?

  Marianne’s clear voice broke in on her musings. “Can the following names please come with me? Sarah Walters, Jacqueline Carroll, Claudette LeBas, and Wilhelmina Cutler.”

  She caught Claudette’s eye and they exchanged a smile. Yes, she had a feeling she would like the woman very much.

  By the end of the day, Arielle felt uncertainty like she never experienced before cloud her. The group interviews Archibald Gordon gave made it clear he was only looking for those women who were serious about being an agent. A number of the women who had started out had gone by the end of the day.

  When his eyes rested on her, Arielle had every expectation his would show a glimmer of appreciation.

  There was nothing of the sort.

  Mr. Gordon asked pertinent questions regarding the reasoning behind the desire to be an agent. She’d written out her qualifications – meticulous attention to detail, able to think fast on her feet, versed in several languages.

  He was the second man in a week to look at her with disinterest.

  When she left after her interview, his face gave nothing away. Now, as she sat in the library, idly exchanging conversation with a few of the remaining women, she wondered…for the first time in her life…if she could really become a Pinkerton agent.

  Activity rustled the entryway of the door. Marianne came through toward the end of the afternoon. “We want to thank you for coming out today. I know it has been a long day. We would like the following ladies to come back tomorrow.”

  Please pick me. Please pick me. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest.

  “Arielle Bradford.”

  She slumped against the couch, a wide smile creasing her face. They’d selected her for a second evaluation.

  After the women who had been called for a second interview had been named, they all dispersed. Arielle hadn’t thought any further than getting to the agency. Where would she stay for the night?

  “Je suis content pour toi,” Claudette said as she came over to her. “I’m returning on Thursday.”

  “Merveilleux.” Arielle wondered if her feet would ever touch the ground. “I neglected to get lodgings for myself. Do you know if there are some available?”

  Listening as Claudette gave the name of the boarding house where she also lodged, Arielle was glad for the money she’d taken with her when she snuck away this morning. Provided the lodgings were not too expensive, she should have enough for a few days stay.

  “Bonne chance,” Claudette squeezed her hand.

  Arielle also went to wish good luck back when the words froze in her mouth as she saw the tall giant come into the room.

  “You!” she said accusingly. “What are you doing here?”

  The giant strode over to her until she had to crane her neck up.

  “I’m a Pinkerton agent,” the giant told her simply. “What you doing here?”

  She gave a haughty lift of her chin. “I’m applying for the position as a trainee.”

  The giant stared down at her for a long moment. He looked better than he did before. Bigger. Broader. A quiet but heavy air surrounded him. Though his face was scarred in several spots, they did nothing to detract from his appeal. If anything, they added to it. His dark honey eyes were the most surprising feature.

  “Do you have what it takes to become a Pinkerton agent?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, Mister—”

  He turned on one foot and walked away from her but not before saying, “You’ll find out my name if you’re selected. Which I highly doubt.”

  Chapter Four

  Arielle felt the giant’s presence long before she saw him enter the room along with the other agents. She tried to keep her gaze away from his but it was impossible. The tallest man in the room, he still had the ability to blend into the background.

  His dark honey gaze stared at her unwavering. What was his name? Why had he refused to give it to her when she asked? Was he so certain that she did not have what it took to become an agent?

  For herself, her confidence had taken a severe beating. She’d gone away from the grueling second interview unsure of what the outcome would be. But she knew she wanted this position more than anything.

  Did it have to do with the giant who haunted her thoughts this week? His image had popped up in her mind more times than she cared to admit. For the first time in her life, a man inspired her genuine curiosity. She’d seen him in passing during her excursions back and forth to the dormitory yet he avoided her.

  What man had ever done that to her? None in her memory.

  When Archie Gordon and Marianne Chapman came into the dining room, she dragged her gaze away although she knew the giant continued to fix his eyes on her. Men had been fixated with her for years, but none had ever looked at her with such disinterest.

  Her eyes landed on the lovely repast that had been set out in the room. Though she was too nervous to eat, the food spread out in an attractive display did look appetizing and delightful. A cake also sat on a table. Arielle wondered about that. Was there some sort of celebration happening?

  Archie stood erect and tall next to Marianne but from the way he held himself, Arielle had a definitive feeling that something was off-kilter. Had none of the women come up to expectations?

  Sweat coated her inner palms. Please God, she prayed, don’t let that be the case. I want this so very badly.

  Archie coughed and a look of some hidden message passed between him and Marianne. Then he started to speak.

  “Uhm, yes. Well, then.” He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. Arielle found that peculiar. It wasn’t that hot in the room.

  “I guess we should begin. Those that remain are the final selections for the first female agents to secure employment out of the Denver office.”

  Arielle cheered along with everyone else at those words.

  “You know about the provisions the agency will provide. The stipend, a small wardrobe, accommodations, and training. Part of the training involves handling cases that require some, uhm...delicacy. And you will be going into territory where a single woman might be in explicit danger. As such, one of the conditions of employment is rather unique.”

  Arielle figured they would probably require the women to carry some sort of weapon. She’d never shot a gun before but if she had to protect herself then she’d better learn how.

  A collective gasp went up and she brought her attention back to the matter at hand. Looking around, some of the women went as white as ghosts. Others snatched up their bags and stomped away. A few giggled. Had she missed something?

  She whispered to the woman next to her, “What
did he say?”

  The woman turned her wide, shocked eyes to her. “He said we’d have to marry our trainers.”

  “Marry?”

  Instantly, her eyes sought that dark honey gaze again…and found it. Within those depths, she discovered that he’d known all along. The giant had known they’d have to marry.

  The world contracted till only she and the giant existed. It didn’t take much intelligence to ascertain if she were selected as an agent, he would be her trainer…

  …and her husband.

  A second later, a giggle erupted from her mouth.

  The giant’s intense stare wavered, and his brow crinkled at her reaction.

  Arielle couldn’t help the wide smile that lifted her mouth. She had traveled across an entire ocean to escape a marriage she didn’t want. Now, in order to become a Pinkerton agent, she had to marry a man she didn’t know. The irony of the situation did not escape her…nor the undeniably, intriguing situation.

  Archie began to pair the women, calling out the names of the agents they were to be matched with.

  “Arielle Bradford?”

  “Yes, sir?” She took a step forward, wiping her hands off on her skirt. She had no reason to be afraid anymore.

  “You will be with Caleb Smith.”

  The giant left his position and came to stand next to her. Without saying a word, he took her hand into his own. His calloused-roughened hand felt rather nice against the softness of her skin. He led her to the refreshment table.

  Not one to beat around the bush, Arielle said, “Tell me, Caleb. Did you really doubt my ability to be a Pinkerton agent?”

  “You aren’t one yet, Miss Bradford,” Caleb answered her.

  She leaned forward unable to keep the smugness from her voice. “I’ve proved you wrong, haven’t I?”

  He took a step nearer. “You haven’t proven anything yet.”

  Her satisfaction at being selected dwindled underneath his criticism. “I’ve proved that I have what it takes to be a Pinkerton agent.”

  “We’ll soon see, Miss Bradford.” His tone remained doubtful and she wanted to pick up the plate of food and throw it at him. She almost did but then remembered that an agent acted honorably.

  “You should call me Arielle. We’re going to be very close very soon.”

  His dark honey gaze narrowed. “There is that. How do you feel about getting married?”

  Should she tell him about the arranged marriage she’d escaped? No, he didn’t need to know about that. Vaguely she wondered how her father’s guards were doing as they searched for her and then dismissed them from her mind.

  “I don’t feel any way about it. I’d marry anyone to become an agent.”

  “Anyone?”

  “I’m agreeing to marry you, aren’t I?”

  “Only for the duration of the case. It’s not a lifelong commitment.”

  “You should be so fortunate,” she snarled, feeling her patience wear down by his quiet, churlish remarks.

  “Isn’t it a good thing that I’m not?” He responded back.

  Her nostrils flared but then a general call sounded in the room.

  Archie stood there with his bible, indicating he was about to perform a mass marriage ceremony. Next to him was another gentleman. Someone called out the name, “Judge,” and he turned, indicating the need for his presence.

  Soon, all the agents and their partners were lined up. As Archie went through the words, Arielle couldn’t help but think this wasn’t how she envisioned her wedding day.

  Mind, it had been something that wouldn’t happen for a long time. But she would have wanted to be married at her home, surrounded by her sisters, the workers who were like family, her father walking her down a row of arabette flowers.

  Even now, her family had no idea she was marrying a man none of them knew. She caressed the brooch, feeling a sudden wave of homesickness.

  “You may now kiss your bride, or shake hands, or whatever it is that you decide to do.” Archie finally said.

  She turned toward Caleb who had extended his hand. Disappointed, she shook it. This man really had no interest in her as a woman. Which was really a shame because, she knew, despite the fact she didn’t want to admit it, she was interested in him as a man.

  Arielle Bradford had a sharp tongue but a sweet mouth. Despite his resolve to only see her as a means to an end, he wondered what her lips would taste like.

  Caleb suppressed the traitorous thought. Shame beat a steady tattoo against his heart. How could he feel this way about a woman who didn’t have half the honor Sorcha had? Thinking of the woman he’d never see again, he grew sober.

  “Well, that’s that,” Arielle said in a nonchalant tone. “What do we do now?”

  Caleb eyed her, feeling his animosity grow. Archie must not have been thinking clearly when he allowed this spoiled woman to enter the ranks of the Pinkertons. Granted, the woman was highly intelligent.

  From the glimpses of her he’d stolen throughout the week as he watched her as unobtrusively as possibly, she enjoyed reading. She chatted and shared books with one of the other ladies. Bronco’s bride, and she had developed a rapport. Once, he saw them playing a game where they talked back and forth in the different languages, more often than not resorting to French.

  He envied the carefree attitude she had. Sorcha had given him the basics of learning how to read and write. Before she passed away, she had also given him elocution lessons so he could speak properly.

  Over the years, he’d learned more and more, never forgetting what Sorcha had done for him.

  Arielle Bradford had never known the type of struggles he had. It was obvious she saw herself as equal with the rest of the woman. In fact, she saw herself better than they. It had taken him years to have such confidence.

  “Caleb?”

  He blinked, unaware he’d been staring at her for several long minutes. “What do we do now?’

  Blowing out a breath, he turned away from the picture of loveliness she created. “We eat. Archie will go over the details of the case he has assigned to us after that.”

  They meandered over to the table when he heard Pearl say, “Oh drat. I forgot the ham and cheese.”

  Anxious to do something he said, “We’ll get it,” he told the cook.

  He went through the door to the kitchen and saw the rounded hunk of meat, nicely patterned with rings of pineapple sitting on the table. Next to it was a tray of cheese.

  “Caleb, what would be the first lesson a Pinkerton should know?”

  He thought about it as he reached for the ham. “Trust your instincts, Arielle,” he told her. “They’re not often wrong.”

  Unbidden, he saw the same pair of gray eyes float in his mind. He hated the sight of them.

  “Is that how you solve cases? With just your instincts?”

  Glad to push aside that thought, he went on briskly. “Of course not. You need to be observant, able to adapt, and watch for small details. But your instincts are sharpened over the years. The more you learn about people, the more you start to figure things out.”

  She gave a nod. “I can’t wait to get started on my first case, Caleb.”

  Her hazel eyes sparkled with excitement. Strangely irritated, he wanted to do whatever he could to snuff that light out.

  “A case isn’t some adventure like in those books you read, Arielle. It’s not a game. A case can cause great peril to you. You have to be aware of everything, follow the trail of evidence, wherever it leads, and be sure not to get caught.”

  “I know that,” she said with an edge to her voice.

  “No, no you don’t. But you will. You’ve never been enslaved, have you?”

  Arielle shook her head.

  “It shows,” he went on. “You carry yourself a certain way. You’re probably more learned then some of the people we’ll meet. Well, there are going to be people who resent your intelligence. They’ll see your beauty and think it’s theirs for the taking.”

  “B
ut I thought, after the War—”

  “You thought wrong,” he added bitterly. “The work of Emancipation is being…eroded every day. Jim Crow laws…”

  “Jim Crow?”

  He sighed and explained how the local and state laws were being enacted to keep alive racial segregation. “You may be a full-grown woman but you’re like a child.”

  How in the world could he work with this woman?

  “You resent me,” she said slowly, her brow creasing as a dawning realization came over her face. “That’s what the look on your face tells me.”

  “I don’t resent you,” he said, wondering if maybe that was underneath the emotions this woman evoked in him. A woman who was his wife.

  “Then tell me what I need to know,” she said angrily. “Isn’t that what this whole charade is about? You’re supposed to train me. I can’t become an agent without your guidance. So help me understand what I need to understand.”

  That was a command if there ever was one. Caleb ground his teeth. “All right. Just do as I say and we’ll be fine.”

  “Do as you say? I’m not some pet to be told to ‘come’ and ‘go’ at whim. I said, train me, not dictate to me.”

  “Do you want to be an agent or not?”

  “I married you, didn’t I?”

  He let that pass. “Then when we go on this mission, you follow my orders. You listen to me.”

  Her full mouth thinned into a hard line. Mutiny if he ever saw it. He sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. Unlike the other freed women of color he’d met who merely looked down on him, this woman challenged him.

  “Just grab the cheese tray, Arielle. I’ll get the ham.”

  She held his gaze for several more seconds and then went over to the table to pick up the cheese tray.

  “Let’s go.”

  They went toward the doorway and then froze, mouths open.

  Food and fists were flying everywhere. The cake had been destroyed. Lying in pieces all over the ground. A few of the women stood off to the side, expressions of mortification slackening their features. Marianne’s face had turned a deep red. Grunts, and muttered curses filled the air.