Storing Up Trouble, стр. 100

Her heart skipped a tiny beat. “That was very noble of you, even if it did result in you being abducted, something I’m sure you weren’t expecting to happen.”

“I must admit I wasn’t expecting an attack, nor did I even consider having a Pinkerton travel with me, because my decision to come to New York was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and hence, I didn’t believe anyone with skullduggery on their minds would have enough notice to successfully follow me here.”

“But you were followed, which suggests whoever is behind all this is more determined than ever to relieve you of your research papers.”

Norman shrugged. “I’m perfectly willing to hand over my papers, but only after you get set free.”

“I’m not leaving you to the mercy of some diabolical thief.”

“It’s not up for debate, and with that settled, I believe we’re slowing down.”

The moment the door to the carriage opened, Beatrix realized they were at a train station. Whistles sounded in the background, trains rumbled, and people called out to one another. The presence of so many people gave her a sense of hope, until one of her captors pulled her out of the carriage and slung her over his shoulder. He then whisked her up two steps and into some type of building, dumping her onto a surprisingly cushy surface, Norman tumbling beside her a second later.

“You weren’t supposed to bring Norman back here,” a man thundered. “You were only supposed to take the research papers from him.”

“You said nab ’em, so that’s what we did.”

“I said ‘nab them,’ meaning the papers, not Norman, you idiot, and why in the world would you bring that woman along?”

“Thought we could use Mr. Nesbit’s fondness for her to make him cooperate.”

“Which would have been a great thought except for the fact that I never wanted Norman brought to me, let alone—”

“She’s that Miss Waterbury, sir. You know, the woman that threatened to shoot me on the train, and then did shoot me in the middle of State Street. I’m lucky she didn’t kill me and lucky that tiny bullet went clean through my shoulder.”

“You’ve succeeded in creating a complication I didn’t count on or want.”

Beatrix struggled to a sitting position, knowing she’d heard the voice of the man speaking before, but she couldn’t quite place who he was, or . . .

“Hello, Harvey,” Norman said pleasantly, sitting up as well and lending her the support of his shoulder again. “May I dare hope that this is all some grave misunderstanding and that you’re not behind all the skullduggery Beatrix and I have experienced of late?”

“Oh dear,” Beatrix muttered.

“What?” Norman asked.

“Haven’t you ever read any of those gothic novels where the hero and heroine find themselves in a dire situation but get out of that situation by keeping their wits about them?”

“An interesting question for you to pose at this particular time,” Norman returned. “But no, I’ve never read a gothic novel in my life, so you’re going to have to expand on whatever it is you’re trying to say.”

“I’m sure Miss Waterbury is of the belief that you shouldn’t have revealed to Harvey that you know who he is because now, well, you’ve left us in a bit of a pickle.”

Beatrix stiffened right as the bag covering her face was pulled off. Lifting her chin and squinting against the light, she discovered none other than Miss Amelia Burden standing before her, fury in her eyes.

“You, Miss Waterbury, are a menace,” Miss Burden spat before she yanked Norman’s bag from his head, tossed the bags to the floor, then stomped across what Beatrix realized was a private Pullman car. She stopped directly beside Harvey, who was looking at Miss Burden as if she’d lost her mind.

“Darling, are you certain it was wise to remove their bags? Now they can see us,” Harvey said, earning a roll of the eyes from Miss Burden in return.

“Since Norman recognized your voice, there was no need to have them sit there with bags over their heads. It was a troubling sight to be sure, and besides, it doesn’t matter that they’ve seen us since Norman knows it was you behind the skullduggery.”

“If you’ve forgotten, the skullduggery was your plan, Amelia,” Harvey argued.

Miss Burden gave a nod, sending her curls bouncing. “True, but I wouldn’t have been forced to develop such a plan if you hadn’t annoyed your father by being incapable of inventing a workable invention, or, at the very least, making one little impressive scientific discovery, or, better yet, figuring out a way to prove you can earn a living, things I’ve come to realize are beyond you.”

She turned to Norman. “It was never personal. You simply seemed to me to be the easiest mark, what with your reputation for living in your own world most of the time.” She shot another glare to Beatrix. “Unfortunately, Miss Waterbury seems to have had a most curious effect on you, making it far harder than I was anticipating to abscond with your electrical research.”

“Why would you need my research in the first place?” Norman asked.

Miss Burden arched a brow. “To prove to Harvey’s father that he’s capable of earning money.”

Norman arched a brow of his own. “Because?”

Miss Burden flung herself into the nearest chair. “Harvey’s father decided that he won’t loosen the purse strings until Harvey proves he has worth. Since that’s going to be next to impossible for him, what with his propensity for laziness and enjoyment of leisurely pursuits, I felt there was no choice but to develop a plan that would convince Harvey’s father he has some potential. After Harvey returned from his New York trip, we decided that the easiest way for him to make money would be to sell the most sought-after research presented in New York to the highest bidder.” She nodded to Norman. “Lucky for us, Harvey knew that your work showed great potential and also knew that there were numerous parties interested in your electric research, parties who wouldn’t balk at paying him