Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (42 page)

“Yes, I would imagine she might put up a fuss.”

“Agreed. So you will tell no one. Not even your maid.”

Sadie shook her head. “But I had hoped to take Julia with me. For propriety, if nothing else.”

“You can’t, Sadie. Not this time. And I assure you propriety will not be an issue.”

Behind Sadie, Jefferson spied Seamus standing in the doorway. Right on time. He tipped his head in greeting, and Jefferson did the same.

Sadie reached out to place her hand on Jefferson’s sleeve, drawing his attention. “But, if I leave in an hour without saying a word to anyone, Mama will—”

“Your mother will believe what I tell her,” Seamus said.

“Daddy?” Sadie bounded across the room and into her father’s arms, now heedless of anything so mundane as propriety. “Is it true? Have you and Jefferson spoken?”

Seamus chuckled as he held his daughter at arm’s length. “We have. Listen to what he says and do it.”

“But…”

“You wonder why I give my blessing to this?” At her nod, he continued. “The Pinkerton Agency needs you to do what you do best.”

At his use of the word “Pinkerton,” Sadie gasped and then turned back toward Jefferson. “You told him!”

“No, Sadie,” her father said. “Your Mr. Tucker said nothing of the kind. I’ve known for quite a while.”

“But how? Uncle Penn?”

Again Seamus chuckled. “That old goat wouldn’t tell me the time of day if he thought I really wanted to know. No, sunshine, I figured it out on my own.”

“How?”

His tender expression made Jefferson smile.

Her father smiled too. “Don’t you think I know you at all, Sarah Louise? You’re suited to this, and I applaud Allan Pinkerton for recognizing he had an agent in you instead of a secretary.”

“You knew about that too?”

Her father shrugged. “I will admit I paid the man a visit when I suspected. He wouldn’t say a word either way, but when I left Chicago, I knew in my heart what was the truth. And, Sadie?”

“Yes?” she said as Seamus gathered her into his arms.

“A daddy couldn’t be prouder of you than I am. Worried sometimes, yes, but proud.”

“But why send the boys? And why demand I come home?”

“I miss you. I won’t apologize for that. As for sending the boys, that would not be my doing.”

“I see.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jefferson, who upped his grin. “So you approve of this plan for me to leave with Mr. Tucker here?” Sadie returned her attention to her father. “He says I have one hour to get ready.”

Seamus met his gaze. “Then you should listen to him.”

“And Mama?”

“Your mother has no idea about your employment as a Pinkerton or your plans to travel tonight.” He reached to sweep a strand of blond hair away from her face. “If she’s not worrying about you, then she might start using some of that energy to worry about me. I prefer to keep things as they are.”

“Yes, Daddy. All right.”

“Then perhaps you ought to go and do as I say,” Jefferson said. “Time is short.”

“Yes, of course.” Her smile was radiant as she stepped out of her father’s embrace.

“Oh!” Sadie scooted around Jefferson and hurried over to the fireplace. She returned to hand him a package wrapped in brown paper. “This is yours.”

He tucked the parcel under his arm. “I will open it once our journey is underway. Now go. And hurry.”

“Why don’t I see our girl back to the house before the rain drenches us all?” Seamus said.

“One hour,” Jefferson called as he watched the Callums slip out into the night arm in arm.

Only as he was banking the fire and preparing to leave himself did Jefferson take note of Seamus Callum’s parting words.

Our girl.

Yes. In other circumstances, careers and detective work notwithstanding, he could easily see Sadie Callum as his girl. A sobering thought.

And an intriguing one.

Sadie stuffed Julia’s green dress back into the carpetbag and returned the bag to its hiding place in the armoire. With one last look around the room, she gathered up her valise and turned toward the door.

The knock surprised her, and she gasped.

“Do have some patience. It has not yet been an hour,” she said as she opened the door to find her maid standing there.

Julia looked down at the valise in Sadie’s hand and then past her, likely seeing the trunk that had been hastily packed. “Are you leaving, miss?”

What to say?

Her hesitance must have been answer enough for Julia, for the maid’s expression quickly fell. “You’re going without me.”

After glancing both directions down the hallway, she gestured for Julia to come inside her room. Shutting the door behind them, Sadie set the valise aside and then took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“If this is because of the way I didn’t completely listen to all your instructions this afternoon, I am ever so sorry. I didn’t intend to ignore what you said. I just didn’t expect that the mister would come in and surprise me, and then that Valletta fellow…well, he did give me a start.”

“I assure you this has nothing to do with what happened there.” Sadie paused to consider a question that had been niggling at her thoughts. “I do wonder something,” she said slowly, her gaze never leaving Julia’s face. “How did Monsieur Valletta know your name?”

The maid’s eyes widened and then her expression quickly shuttered. “Likely he heard you call me Julia.”

“No,” she said evenly. “Your last name, Julia. How did he know it was Oakman?”

The girl opened her mouth as if to comment and then resolutely shut it again. Wherever the truth was, it appeared the maid was not eager to offer it.

“Julia?”

Another knock, this one much louder, much more insistent. “It’s time.”

Jefferson.

She moved past Julia toward the door, opening it slightly to reveal her soon-to-be traveling companion. Behind him were two stable boys, likely the means by which her trunk would be delivered to the river.

“A moment, please.”

“There’s no time to spare,” he insisted as he reached beyond her to open the door. “We must be off before your mother returns from her meeting…” He paused, his gaze fixed on Julia. “Oh.”

“I was just speaking with my maid about a private matter. Why don’t you have my trunk taken down and then I’ll follow in a moment?”

“All right.”

Sadie leaned in. “You’re certain she cannot accompany me?” she whispered.

“No, she cannot.”

Nodding, she turned to face her maid while the stable boys hefted the trunk onto their shoulders and carried it out behind Jefferson. Being careful to close the door behind them, Sadie returned her focus to Julia.

“Is there something you wish to tell me?” she asked the maid.

The girl lifted her chin, her expression now kind rather than blank. “Nothing, miss. I swear it.”

“And Monsieur Valletta’s use of your last name?”

“I do not recall it,” she said emphatically. “Are you certain of it? Perhaps in the excitement and hitting your head and all, you don’t recollect things as they actually were?”

Grudgingly admitting this might be possible, Sadie still elected not to give voice to the thought. Rather, she nodded toward the armoire.

“The carpetbag containing your green dress is in there. You may have it.”

“Truly?” Her lips turned up in the beginnings of a smile. “You’re certain? How will I explain it to the cook and the others?”

“Tell them it is a gift from me. A gift bestowed from a trust in your discretion.” This time her expression held none of her previous patience. “And the belief that your allegiance lies with me. Do not prove me wrong, Julia.”

“No, miss. And thank you, truly.” She offered Sadie a hug and then stepped back, stricken. “I do apologize. My emotions did get the better of me.”

“See that indiscretion does not.” Sadie once again reached for her valise. “You will tell no one of this conversation. Do you understand?”

“I do, miss. But when will you return?”

“I cannot say.” She met the girl’s gaze. “However, I will return. You have my word.”

“And then may I count on traveling along with you?”

“I had hoped that would be the case.” Sadie reached for the doorknob. “However, whether you travel with me or not will depend on your actions in my absence. I cannot travel with someone I cannot trust.”

Julia nodded vigorously, the carpetbag clutched to her chest. “You can count on me. I give you my word. Not a peep of our conversation to anyone, and that is a promise.”

Sadie stepped out into the hallway, leaving Julia to follow in her footsteps as she made her way downstairs to find Daddy waiting for her at the front door.

Without a word, he welcomed her into his arms and then ushered her out into the night. When they arrived at the Callum Plantation docks, Jefferson was waiting.

Sadie tarried only long enough to offer Daddy a quick hug. “Thank you,” she said as she kissed his grizzled cheek.

He shook his head. “Don’t thank me. You’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing. I’m just making it more likely you’ll leave without your mama following.”

She gave him one more hug and then stepped back from his embrace. “About Mama…”

“Leave her to me.”

“But what are you going to tell her?”

He looked past her to where Jefferson was waiting. “Just let me handle it. Go solve this case. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

Stealing one last hug from Daddy, Sadie did as she was told, allowing Jefferson to assist her up the gangplank and onto the deck of the three-masted schooner emblazoned with the name
Lizzie.
As she moved out of their way, crewmen hurried to loosen the ropes and ready the vessel for departure.

Daddy stood still and tall on the dock until the vessel pulled away. Only then did he raise a hand to wave.

Behind him, a carriage appeared heading down the River Road toward Callum Plantation.
Mama.

Though tempted to hide, Sadie doubted her mother could see her. For that matter, she probably would give little heed to yet another set of sails unfurling to move the vessel downriver toward the open seas.

Still, Sadie kept watch until Daddy and the docks disappeared around a bend in the river. Only then did Jefferson tap her on the shoulder. She turned to find him standing next to a handsome older man dressed in what appeared to be a naval uniform of impressive rank.

“Hello,” she said to the gentleman before focusing on Jefferson.

“Sadie Callum,” he said, “may I present the captain of our vessel and the man who promises our arrival in Newport will be made in record time. He also happens to be my father.”

“Harrison William Tucker, at your service,” he said.

Wonderful. Another Will Tucker.

Thirty-Two