Mr. Abernathy was too close. The overwhelming scent of soap and sandalwood made her head ache, and the fine wool of his coat sleeve kept brushing irritatingly against her bare arm.
All around her the other guests whispered and waited, seemingly convinced they’d witnessed nothing short of a miracle. Ella did have to admit that Mr. Bauer was a persuasive speaker, and of the three guests he’d assessed, he accurately described their characters—including Phoebe’s.
As soon as the demonstration concluded and she freed herself from Mr. Abernathy’s possessive presence, she joined Phoebe and Miss Sutton in the corridor just outside the White Parlor.
Phoebe pivoted as Ella approached, her eyes bright. “Oh, wasn’t that wonderful!”
Ella’s face ached from forced smiles. “Very much so. I had no idea that you were going to volunteer.”
A shadow crossed over her friend’s countenance. Her tone darkened. “Do you not approve of it?”
Phoebe’s sudden defensiveness caught Ella off guard. She blinked and looked to Miss Sutton before responding. “Of course I approve. I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
Phoebe’s lips pursed and her round chin lifted. She cast a fleeting glance toward Miss Sutton before speaking. “Mr. Bauer asked me if I would be willing to participate earlier today, but I didn’t tell you. I didn’t think you’d consider it prudent.”
Ella found herself at a loss for words. Never had she felt even a twinge of animosity from Phoebe. Now with her friend’s hard glare and tense expression, it almost seemed that she considered Ella the enemy.
“I know you don’t like him,” snipped Phoebe, “but can you not just be happy for me?”
Ella felt as if she’d been slapped. The words were simple, but the delivery stung. “I want nothing more for you than happiness—you know that.”
Phoebe tossed her head, sending the nutmeg curls around her face bouncing. “I daresay if you were in my situation, you’d be the same way.”
The subtle accusation of jealousy smacked.
Ella looked to Miss Sutton, as if to gauge another person’s reaction to this conversation, but her normally observant eyes were fixed on the ground. And then frustration soared. Phoebe never would have said anything like this to Ella before. Could it be Miss Sutton’s influence? “Phoebe, dearest. I meant nothing by it. I just—”
“Oh, never mind,” Phoebe blurted. “It isn’t worth arguing about, is it?”
Coolness met Ella’s further attempts at conversation, so she excused herself. She sought another conversation to join but found none. Mr. Rowe was nowhere to be seen. Her father was speaking with a group of men, and the other ladies were with their husbands. She was in a crowded room, and yet she was completely alone.
Chapter 21
IN THE YEARSthat Gabriel had been tracking down criminals, he’d witnessed every manner of behavior and tactics. But the handwritten notes—and the fact he’d found them in Gutt’s bedchamber—surprised him.
Bauer was the force behind this ruse, of that Gabriel was certain, but Gutt’s participation seemed a critical piece of the puzzle. He needed answers.
Gabriel returned to the great hall on the ground floor as the demonstration was ending. An air of animated excitement hovered over the guests as they milled about the space, but Gabriel knew what he needed to do: He needed to speak with Gutt.
Gabriel found Gutt talking with Bauer at the platform’s far end. Bauer’s gestures and expressions seemed sharp, as if he was irritated. Gutt’s face reddened and his jaw clenched.
They were arguing.
As nonchalantly as possible, Gabriel made his way around the great hall’s outer edge and the small clusters of noisy conversations to observe the interaction more closely.
Gutt—quiet and unassuming—was always present yet easilyoverlooked. He was a rather nondescript man with light hair, light eyes, and fair skin, and he blended into the background. He never engaged with the guests unless it was at dinner or in conjunction with Bauer.
The argument appeared to end, and Bauer motioned to the supplies they had used—the head model, measuring tools, and notebooks—as if ordering him to clear them away, and then he stomped off. Gabriel knew angry men were more likely to rant, and if Gutt was angry, he might let something slip.
He picked two glasses of wine from the footman and, once Bauer was out of sight, made his way toward Gutt.
“Name’s Rowe.” Gabriel extended the glass toward him as he approached.
Gutt looked up from the notebooks and items he was organizing and accepted the glass. “Thanks.”
“So the first demonstration is done,” exclaimed Gabriel. “Seems a tedious process.”
“Does it?” Gutt responded flatly after he took a drink.
