“But what if one of the other sisters is on board?”
“Then I’ll simply tell them I’ve come to see about Mrs. Davenport’s reticule. But I’m hoping I won’t have to address that situation because I have no idea how I’d explain why that reticule ended up in one of the rooms by the library, or why it was stuffed into the very back of a desk in that room.”
“Should I not inquire as to how Mrs. Davenport’s reticule got stuffed into a desk?”
“Probably not, nor should you inquire about the contents that may or may not be lurking in that reticule.”
Leaving Temperance with her mouth slightly agape, Gertrude drew in a breath, reached for the door, and stepped from the cab. Telling the driver she’d be back directly, Gertrude squared her shoulders and walked toward the dock, her feet dragging the closer she got to theCornelia. Heading up the plank that had, thankfully, been left down, she reached the deck, drawing the immediate attention of the few members of the crew who were polishing brass fixtures.
“May I help you with something, miss?”
Clearing her throat while praying she would be able to get a reasonable answer out of her mouth, Gertrude directed her attention to the man who’d posed the question. “I do hope so,” she began, holding up the note. “I’ve been asked by Mr. Sinclair to keep an eye on his sister, Edwina, while he’s away, and I’m supposed to meet her here this afternoon.”
The man frowned. “I’m afraid Miss Sinclair is not here.”
“I’m sure she’s simply running a little behind schedule,” Gertrude said, stepping closer to the man and waving the note from Harrison so that he could see Harrison’s signature scrawled across the bottom. “Would it be permissible for me to wait for her in the library? I noticed the other evening that it’s very well stocked, which will allow me to pass the time quite pleasantly while I wait for Edwina.”
The man looked at the letter Gertrude was still fanning herself with, then smiled and nodded. “That will be fine. Would you like me to escort you there?”
“That’s very kind, but I do remember the way, and I wouldn’t want to disrupt your work.”
Not allowing the man an opportunity to argue, Gertrude began walking, her heart beating so rapidly she was all but certain the men still polishing the brass could hear it. Breathing a sigh of relief when she looked over her shoulder and found no one following her, she increased her pace. Once she reached the stairs, she hurried down them to the next level, then walked through the companionway, pausing when she reached the library.
Because Mrs. Davenport had been somewhat rattled when she’d followed Gertrude out of the drawing room after Gertrude had given her notice, the location of the missing reticule was less than clear. All Mrs. Davenport could remember with any certainty was there’d been a desk in the room she’d darted into to get rid of her reticule after Harrison heard her jingling, a room that was in the near vicinity of the library.
Knowing there was nothing to do but get on with the daunting matter at hand, Gertrude started with the door closest to her, finding herself in a storage area with no desk in sight.
Moving on to the next door, she found no success in that room either, but when she opened the door to the third room, she smiled. Bolted to the floor was a lovely desk, one with large drawers. She strode over to it and made short shrift of pulling out the drawers, her smile widening when her fingers closed around a beaded object that could only be Mrs. Davenport’s reticule. Tucking it under her arm, she walked out of the room, then froze on the spot when she encountered a woman in the hallway—a woman who’d frozen as well, and a woman Gertrude had the sneaking suspicion just might be related to Harrison and his sisters given that she had the distinct look of a Sinclair about her.
“Well, well, well,” the woman began in a voice as cold as ice. “Whatdowe have here?”
Chapter
Seventeen
Harrison gave the new shipping proposal he was working on one last glance, then pushed it aside, leaning back in his office chair and raising his arms above his head to help relieve the knot that was developing in his back.
Contract proposals were not his favorite way to spend an afternoon, but since Adelaide, who adored working on contracts and had an unusual affinity for figures, was preparing to depart from New York with Margaret to deliver a new ship down the coast to a client, it was up to him to complete the proposal.
Yawning, he glanced out the window, took a moment to enjoy the sight of a beautiful sunny day, and wondered if Gertrude might be available to take a sail around the coast with him later that evening.
Even though she’d been adamant about the idea that being seen with him would cause the gossips to come out in droves, he’d missed her while he’d been away delivering an engine part his father needed, and...
“Harrison, thank goodness you’ve returned. I was worried you’d decided to take a small holiday after parting ways with your father, but here you are, back at the office, and as I already mentioned, thank goodness for that.”
Setting aside his thoughts of Gertrude, along with the notion that he’d missed her, which was rather curious because he’d never missed a lady unrelated to him before, Harrison rose to his feet as his mother, Cornelia Sinclair, swept into his office. She was looking lovely in a sensible walking dress of what he thought might be yellow, although why she’d chosen to wear a red hat that was at distinct odds with the yellow, he couldn’t say.
He walked around his desk, met his mother in the middle of the office, then bent down and kissed her cheek.
“You’re looking very well today, Mother. That’s a delightful yellow gown.”
Cornelia patted his cheek. “It’s green, dear, to match my hat, which is a shade darker, but green all the same.”
Harrison tilted his head and considered the hat in question. “Is it really?”
“Indeed, however...” Cornelia took a step away from him, looking him up and down. “That’s an interesting ensemble you have on today, darling. Overly bright some might say, and I’m not sure the pink jacket should be worn with...” She bent over and began examining the print of his trousers. “What an interesting choice some tailor made to create trousers out of periwinkle blue, and are these small designs supposed to be clovers scattered about the fabric?”
“I thought my jacket was orange,” Harrison began, “and no, I don’t have clovers on my pants.”
