Anna Finch and the Hired Gun (18 page)

“I’m so sorry,” Anna said quickly. “I truly did not believe he would—”

“Do not apologize to the help,” Edwin said. “Besides, it needed to be done.” He gave her a penitent look, then touched the curls loosened by his prank. Wrapping a strand of her hair around his knuckle, Daniel’s brother leaned toward her. “Might I plead that I was overcome?”

“Overcome?” Anna crossed her hands over her chest and chose her words carefully. “Mr. Beck, I daresay men like you are rarely overcome by women like me.”

He released her curl but left his hand dangerously close to her cheek. “Miss Finch,” he said as he moved closer, “how would you know the first thing about what men think of you?”

She remained still, barely breathing, and yet from the corner of her eye Anna watched what she realized was a master at work. A master manipulator of women, just as Daniel had warned her.

“Miss Finch,” he whispered against her ear, “we are very much alone at this moment, for while your bonnet is being rescued, its owner has been abandoned to the man she was likely warned not to associate with.”

Anna felt the heat rise in her face as she locked eyes with the Englishman. “Mr. Beck, you are incorrigible.”

“I am practical,” he said. “And honest, despite what my brother might have told you. Thus I will tell you without guise or deception that every moment of this morning was planned to bring us to this very place at this very time.”

“Truly,” Anna said, “I find your approach flattering. But to believe that you would toss my bonnet under the buggy wheels just
to be alone with me for a few minutes while poor Isak mucks about under the bridge? It’s a bit far-fetched, don’t you think?”

“Far-fetched?” His smile was broad. “Were my intention of being alone with you the sole purpose, then I would agree.” He cupped her cheek with his palm while his free hand wrapped around her waist. Before Anna could protest, he turned and lowered her head into his lap, and she found herself looking up at Edwin Beck.

And then he kissed her.

“Mr. Beck,” she said when she could manage it. “Let me go.”

His eyes searched her face, his hand still pressed against her cheek. “You are beautiful. Daniel is a fool.”

“Got it,” Isak called. “Isn’t much worse for wear. Perhaps a good cleaning, but elsewise …”

The driver continued to talk, his voice growing nearer even as Anna ceased to hear. To feel. To think. Then, by degrees, the world righted and she found herself seated in the same spot where the journey had begun. Beside her, Edwin Beck straightened his collar and adjusted his cuff.

“Here it is, Miss Finch.” Isak appeared and thrust the misshapen bonnet toward her. “I’m sure you can fix it good as new.”

“Thank you,” she managed as she crumpled the ribbons with shaking fingers.

A sideways glance revealed Edwin Beck smiling. “Lovely day for a carriage ride, don’t you think, Miss Finch?” When she did not answer, he turned his attention to Isak. “Drive on, young man.”

“No,” Anna said. “Take me home, Isak.” She gave the Englishman a withering stare. “Now. And hurry.”

When Jeb woke that morning, McMinn had informed him that Anna Finch had gone on a carriage ride with Mr. Beck. Jeb made a mental note to thank Daniel the next time he saw him. The last thing he needed that morning was another encounter with Anna Finch. With Daniel keeping her occupied for a few hours, Jeb could relax with a cup of coffee and rebuild the professional walls Miss Finch had a habit of breaking through. He’d never had a client get to him the way she did.

When Jeb spied the Beck carriage returning to the Finch home much earlier than he’d expected, he walked to the kitchen door, intent on stepping out to meet the pair. Then he spied which Beck the Finch woman had gone off with.

Immediately he wondered just what kind of woman went gallivanting off with a man like Edwin Beck. Surely not one who might have the least bit of concern over her reputation. It didn’t fit with the demure society gal image she cultivated and that he’d witnessed to this point. But then, neither did riding about at dawn in boys’ clothing and dining with wanted men.

Jeb doubled back to set his coffee on the table, then made his way outside. He was about to let Anna Finch know exactly how he felt about her slipping off when he spied the expression on her face. Jeb slipped back inside and found a spot near the open window where he could listen without being seen.

“Might I speak to Mr. Beck alone?” Miss Finch said to Isak, who trotted obediently off to the stables, leaving the pair standing beside the carriage.

“Miss Finch, do me the honor of not lecturing me,” Beck said. “I’ve no use for hearing it.”

“You’ve no use?” Miss Finch’s voice was high and strained. “After behaving as you’ve done, you dare tell me you’ve no use for hearing me?”

“I was overcome.”

Jeb moved a half pace to the right for a clearer view. The Finch woman jabbed Beck in the chest with her finger. Beck laughed.

“Your spirit defies description,” he said, “as I suspected it would. Now, shall we dispense with the theatrics? You and I are of an age when we shouldn’t have to stand on formality. We’re also of an age to strike our own bargains without the interference of family.”

When Beck’s hand caught her wrist, Jeb nearly went after him. Instead, he forced himself to remain in place until he had a better idea of how to remove Beck from the property without seriously injuring him.

“Mr. Beck,” Miss Finch said slowly, “a Derringer is not my pistol of choice. It is, however, the pistol in my skirt pocket.”

Edwin Beck released her, though the insufferable smirk didn’t leave his face.

Miss Finch allowed a deadly pause before calling for Isak. When he came running, she stepped back from the Englishman.

“Mr. Beck is ready to go home.” She spared him only the quickest glance. “Good day, sir,” she said and stormed toward the door.

Jeb stepped aside just before the door slammed open. “Back so soon?” he called to her retreating form.

She whirled and gave him a withering look. “Mr. Sanders, what are you doing in my home? I thought you were going to remain in the barn with the livestock.”

He hurried to catch up with her and fell into step beside her as she reached the stairs. “Trouble with Beck?” When she did not respond, he tried again. “Say the word, Miss Finch, and I’ll handle him. I’m not just here to keep your whereabouts under surveillance. I’m also here to see to your safety. Which, by the way, might have been compromised by going off without reporting to me first.”

She stopped short. “Reporting to you?”

“I am the one paid to—”

“Mr. Sanders.” Miss Finch maneuvered around to stand one step higher than him, putting them eye to eye. “Had you any idea how very close I came to shooting the last man who trifled with me, you might think twice about continuing this conversation.”

He laughed. “Too late to fear that, Miss Finch. You’ve already shot me.”

When she whirled around and stormed up the stairs, Jeb went after her.

“Hey, now,” he called. “I’m sorry. It was a joke.”

She’d reached the top of the stairs, no doubt only a short distance from her bedchamber and the door she’d likely slam at any moment. She leaned against the newel post and stared down at him.

“It wasn’t funny.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Go home, Mr. Sanders.” She swiped at a curl that had come loose. “Just go.”

“I can’t do that,” he said, “but I do owe you another apology.” He shrugged. “I ought not to have imposed myself on you yesterday.” Miss Finch seemed interested in listening, so Jeb continued. “I had my reasons, but thinking on it now, they probably weren’t enough to make up for the aggravation I caused.”

Her expression softened a notch. “What reasons?” she said so quietly he almost missed it.

“I’ve made no secret of what I’ve been hired to do,” he said, “but I can’t do that job unless I know who I’m protecting.” He paused to choose his words carefully. “I had a conversation with someone yesterday who gave me reason to wonder about some things.”

Miss Finch shifted position. “Things?”

“Now’s not the time to have this discussion,” he said, “but we will, and soon. I thought if I visited yesterday and asked some questions, I might find out what I needed to know.” Another pause. “About you.”

“Me?” She shook her head. “Is that all? There’s absolutely nothing to tell.”

“That’s where we differ,” he said. “I’ll go now. Not far, mind you, as I’m still on duty.”

She released her grip on the post and found her bedchamber door.

“Miss Finch,” he called just before she disappeared inside.

“What is it?”

“Did he harm you in any way?”

Her gaze collided with his. “Harm? No.”

“Did he take any liberties?”

“He—” She seemed ready to continue, then abruptly disappeared inside and closed the bedchamber door.
At least
, he thought,
she didn’t slam it
.

Jeb thought about her lack of answer with every step he took out of the Finch house and across the grounds. By the time he reached Daniel’s doorstep, he knew what he needed to do.

Daniel met him at the door before Jeb could knock. “Good to see you,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Your brother,” Jeb said. “Send him outside. The stables will do.”

“The stables?” Daniel shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Your brother will. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate leaving it at that.”

Jeb bypassed the kitchen and went out to the stables to wait. Five minutes went by before the door opened and the younger Beck stepped inside.

“Daniel said you needed to see me about—”

One punch and the younger Beck hit the floor. “What did you do to her?”

Beck scrambled to his feet, his eyes narrowed, and raised his fists. “If she told you I did more than kiss her, she’s lying.”

White-hot anger nearly blinded Jeb at the thought of this man putting his hands on Anna Finch, kissing her. “Get out of here before I hurt you.”

The Englishman only laughed. “I’m going to marry her, Sanders.” He made a show of dusting the straw from his pants. “Pummel me if you wish, but that fact will not change. I’ll not lose her to some ruffian.”

Moving toward the untrained civilian was simple. Hauling him up by the neck, simpler still. Keeping his grip just shy of deadly, that was a struggle.

“No,” Jeb said slowly, “you’re
not
marrying Anna Finch because you’re leaving. Today.” Jeb relaxed his grip just enough to allow a bit more air into the man’s lungs. “Your brother cares about you, though for the life of me I can’t understand why. I want you to go in there and tell him you’ve been called back to London. Make up a good story so he thinks you’re going to miss him, then take your things and go. Nod if you understand.”

He did, and Jeb let him go.

And then Edwin Beck slugged him. Hard. Jeb reeled backward several steps before he recovered.

To his credit, Beck stood his ground. “As I said, I’ll not lose Anna to any man unworthy of her.”

Jeb reached for his weapon, but unfortunately, good sense prevailed. “You don’t want to continue this, Beck,” he managed. “It would be far too dangerous.”

Beck seemed to consider the statement, but only for a moment. Then he smirked, gave Jeb a mocking bow, and left.

Some days being a Pinkerton had its benefits. Today, as he watched the sorry excuse for a man that was Edwin Beck strut toward the house as if he owned the place, Jeb had to admit the badge was a burden. Without the responsibility of carrying the Pinkerton name, he could have dealt with Daniel’s brother in a far more convincing way.

He watched Beck disappear inside, then returned to the Finch home to resume his surveillance at a safe distance. No more losing his
temper and giving in to stupidity. If he wanted to catch Doc Holliday and still keep his job, he’d have to make some adjustments to the plan.

Starting with taking due note of the fact that Anna Finch carried a Derringer in her pocket.