The Gilded Hour

“She wears white because she’s a nursing sister,” Jack said. “At the Foundling all the nuns wear white. All the nursing nuns.”


Anna’s expression shifted, irritation drawing a line between her brows. Apparently she didn’t like this particular fact about the Sisters of Charity.

“Why are you here, anyway?”

Jack took some pleasure in flustering her, there was no denying it.

“Because you sent for me.” And before she could work up any more of a temper he said, “You are very good in the classroom. Very much in control but not overpowering or unaware. You had their interest and attention.”

Now he had embarrassed her, but she was pleased, too. “Thank you,” she said quietly. When she raised her head again she was smiling. “Do you still have time to go to the Foundling on Sunday?”

He nodded. “Sister Mary Augustin?”

“There’s something going on there, but I have no idea what. She seems subdued. The only way to know if she’s willing to help is to ask her.”

They were silent for a long moment, just looking at each other. “Then Sunday at noon, if that suits. But tonight, if you’re still interested—”

She was waiting, her eyes on his face, her expression a study in hard-won composure.

“We could go up on the new bridge. We need to do it today or tomorrow, as I’m leaving Monday and I’m going to be away for a week or ten days.” Watching her expression closely, all he saw was a vague fluttering of her eyelids.

“I see,” she said finally.

“I was hoping you’d be able to visit the Catholic agencies with Sister Mary Augustin while I’m gone.”

“Of course,” she said, quite stiffly. “I’m quite familiar now with the way things work. I’m sure I can handle further inquiries without you. You’ve spent too much time as it is—” She was pivoting to go around the desk and sit down, but Jack stepped forward to take her wrist. She turned back to him with a jerk and looked at his hand as if it were contaminated. He couldn’t help it, he laughed.

“Mezzanotte, please let go of me.”

Instead he pulled her closer and then, holding on to her upper arms, swung her around so that her back was against the door. He put his hands flat to either side of her head, but she was looking down, all her muscles tensed.

“Look at me.”

She raised her head, her eyes flashing with anger and what he thought might be disappointment.

She said, “I see I amuse you. Do you want to let me in on the joke?” Her gaze fell to his mouth and then jerked away.

“I’m not leaving to get out of helping you.”

“It’s none of my business why you’re—”

He leaned down and caught her mouth in midlie. After she gave in with a small sigh, he kissed her again.

“Do you remember I told you about the swindle the Deparacio brothers were running?”

Her expression cleared. “The train tickets. To—Chicago?”

“Yes. They sold somewhere around five hundred forged tickets from Grand Central to Chicago for ten bucks apiece.”

She nodded, curious now.

“We put out a bulletin. Today we got a telegram from the Chicago police; all three brothers are sitting in their jail. You know how they caught them?”

“They spoke Italian to them.”

“That’s my trick. No, the mopes were hanging around the train station selling fake tickets to Grand Central.”

“You have to go to Chicago to bring them back here.” Her color was rising. “And it’s still none of my business, but I wish you a good trip.”

Jack gave her a narrow look and then, bending down, put his mouth to her ear. “It is your business, Savard. And I can prove it.”

She stiffened. “I have a reputation to uphold here.”

“Then stop lying to me or face the consequences.” He pressed his mouth to the soft skin just beneath her ear.

“I forbid you to take advantage of me in this office.”

He touched his tongue to her throat and felt her shiver.

“If kissing your neck is forbidden, how about—”

She grabbed his ears and pressed her forehead to his. “I have work to do. Let me go.”

“Just as soon as you admit—”

“Yes, all right. It’s my business too.”

He kept waiting and after a good while, she relaxed against him.

“Now that you’re listening I have a couple things to say. First, if you get word from Baldy—”

“Ned.”

“Ned. If you get word from Ned, don’t go anywhere with him alone. Wait for me to get back. Are you going to be stubborn about this?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “I know better.”

She did know better—she regularly saw hard proof of the damage done to vulnerable women. And yet he had needed to say it.

“Second, there’s one advantage to this assignment. I’ll have a couple extra days free over the summer. In June sometime I want you to come with me to Greenwood.”

Her expression went blank as she tried to place the name.

“Greenwood is where I grew up. My father’s farm is a few miles south of the village.”

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