An Agent for Victoria Read online

  “I thought you’d have conditions,” Archie said, smiling. “I’ll let Marianne know you’ve got particular taste for the pretty ones.”

  Mav rose to his feet. “And another thing. If I’ll be cuffed to one for an entire case, I’ll need a sensible one too. Ain’t nothing worse than a giggling, high-and-mighty type.”

  His employer’s shoulders curved forward. “I don’t intend on hiring any such women.”

  “Then we’ve an understanding?” Mav asked. He held out his hand.

  Archie grasped it, shaking it up and down. “You have my word.”

  2

  Victoria had always pictured a traditional and elegant wedding. She’d imagined the affair down to the smallest details—lace gloves, pink floral china, a cathedral like the one she’d attended in Scotland, and all in the presence of her dearest friends and family. But the death of her parents when she was sixteen, followed by her travels to America, had already pointed out the reality of life; God had a way of complicating plans. She took a shallow breath, daring to glance at her future husband from behind the doorway.

  Maverick Jones, or Mav as he was called, looked to live up to his dangerous reputation. He stood at six feet, but his commanding presence made him appear even taller. Victoria had heard rumors of his ugly past—his sketchy record of crime and living as an outlaw in the Reno Gang. He’d turned on his own gang after his brother had been shot by Pinkerton agents six years ago. Some were suspicious of such a move; why join the very people that had facilitated the demise of a beloved brother?

  His mysterious nature was part of the draw Victoria felt. He wasn’t a man of convention, and even after he’d joined the agency, Maverick wasn’t one to respect authority. He didn’t disobey Archie’s orders exactly, but she’d heard enough to know that he’d a rebellious streak.

  Marianne brushed her hand against Victoria’s arm. “You’ll go through with it, won’t you? After all I did, misleading your brother and lying about your interview and—”

  “You mustn’t worry.” Victoria smiled, still surveying Maverick. His angled jaw and high cheekbones were only upstaged by his eyes. She absentmindedly placed a hand to her chest. “Do you think he’ll be terribly disappointed in his pairing?”

  “That’s what’s got your brows drawn up in a bow?” Marianne shook her head. “Not much can rattle Mav. Your brother said he wasn’t too happy about the arrangement, but he’s seemed to reconcile himself with it.”

  “Why is he here?” Victoria asked.

  Marianne hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek. “There’s only one thing Mav cares about—being an agent. He’s been around long enough to know when Archie’s serious, and Archie made it clear he needed to marry a female agent in order to remain with Pinkerton. I’m more nervous what your brother will do when he realizes I’ve helped you.” Her eyes darted to the clock in the hall. “And it’s time. Did you bring that veil?”

  Victoria lifted her chin, watching the first bride take their place beside her appointed match. “Yes, I’ll put it on now.”

  She hurried to the washroom, where she’d hidden her disguise. The veil was composed of layer after layer of lace, and her face was unrecognizable beneath it. The lace draped long past the top half of her newly-purchased dress. Victoria smiled. She looked like a fussy bride—not anything like a brave Pinkerton agent or the type of woman Maverick would be hoping for.

  The ceremony was the first of its kind, and Archie had told Victoria of his worries that some of the men or women might leave or object, sending a wave of disaster down the line of prospective couples. Already, a young girl had fled the room, unable to swallow the reality of Archie’s employment condition of marrying. She was in a mess of tears by the time she ran past Victoria.

  Her departure seemed to spark another’s second thoughts. After the two women left, there was a short silence. Archie tapped his finger against his chin, as if waiting for a third to step forward, but no one moved.

  Victoria pressed her lips together. She was next; she sensed it. And however sure she was of this decision, anxiety still beat across her chest. She took in a shallow breath.

  “Maverick Jones? I have you with a … Miss Smith?” Archie’s pitch rose. “Marianne?”

  Victoria peeked past the doorway.

  Her brother rubbed his hands over his brows, massaging them.

  Marianne mumbled something to Archie and then turned toward the line of women. “I apologize if you missed it. Oh look, here she is.” Marianne took Victoria’s hand and pulled her into the room.

  Victoria held her breath as she passed Archie.

  He scowled at Marianne but gave no objection. Archie hardly objected to anything Marianne did. The woman had Victoria’s brother wrapped around her finger. How long would it take before Archie realized he was very much in love with Marianne?

  “Hey, Mav,” a voice called from the back. “There is only one reason a woman would cover her face in that much lace.”

  Maverick’s face drained of all color, and he shifted his weight, seeming to deliberate his own sudden departure. Victoria bit back a smile. Perhaps there was something that frightened the notorious agent.

  “I’d prefer to stand in the back,” Victoria said. She tried to keep her words low and steady, and she silently pleaded Archie wouldn’t recognize her voice.

  Maverick’s chin shot up. He assessed Victoria’s figure, and she sensed his suspicion. “Ummm…Archie...” Mav began.

  She slipped her gloved hand in Mav’s and gave him a warning squeeze. He might have an idea of her identity, but Archie seemed to still be brooding about Marianne’s decision to place a female agent he hadn’t screened with Maverick.

  “Not right now, Mav,” Marianne said, waving a hand at him. “Whatever it is can wait until after the ceremony.”

  When Archie read the next female agent’s name, Victoria let out a sigh of relief.

  Mav dropped her hand. His voice fell at a whisper. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on here. Archie’ll have your hide once he discovers—”

  “Shhh.” Victoria tried not to laugh. “A woman only gets so many weddings in her life, and I’d prefer to hear mine officiated.”

  Mav’s brows lifted. “And what makes you think you can tell me what to do?”

  She flicked his arm. “We’re about to be man and wife.”

  His audible exhale was mingled with amusement. He shifted his weight. “Man and wife? I was told this is strictly business.”

  His reply was confirmation enough; she’d picked the right man. Maverick didn’t tiptoe around matters, least of all in expressing his opinion. Victoria admired that quality, and she prided herself for being direct too.

  Archie took his place at the front of the room and began the short ceremony. His hands trembled, and the cards in his hands almost tipped to the floor. Victoria swallowed. She’d been banking on his nerves—Archie detested weddings—to distract him. Officiating one, especially under the agents’ scrutiny, would likely be causing Archie palpitations. Marianne had insisted on placing Victoria’s surname next to Mav’s, so that the marriage would be legitimate.

  When it came time for each bride and groom to step forward, they did so, though some with more reluctance than others.

  The moment the words “Miss Gordon” was uttered in question, Victoria sealed the moment with an immediate “I do”. She felt the weight of Archie’s glance. She held her breath and stepped behind Mav. At least her new husband was a solid barrier, a welcome change from her delicate fans and practiced smiles.

  “Gentlemen, you may now kiss your bride,” Archie said, though there was no mistaking his dark tone. His eyes were glued to Mav, and Archie was leaning forward to catch a glimpse of Victoria.

  Archie couldn’t know it was her beneath the veil, but with his narrowed eyes and shriveled lips, she knew that he suspected as much.

  Mav laughed at the sight of the awkward couples, and he cleared his throat. He turned to face Victoria and lifted
her veil. “I reckon that’s one liberty I’ll take!” He scooped her in his arms, securely out of Archie’s vision, and kissed her squarely on the lips.

  Shock overwhelmed Victoria, but she melted, almost helplessly, into his strong arms. The worry of Archie’s wrath was forgotten in that moment, as her lips melded to Mav’s mouth. His breath was tinged with alcohol, but his lips were sweet and surprisingly soft.

  When Mav set her back to the ground, Victoria struggled to regain her balance. She’d been foolish to assume she was a match for him. They’d only been married a minute, and already he had set her heart in peril.

  Mav’s head spun as he set his new wife back to the ground. He’d kissed her…and not in a polite, gentlemanly way. The moment he’d seen Archie’s suspicion, instinct had overtaken Mav, and he’d locked lips with his new wife, shielding her from her brother’s view and, he’d hoped, suspicion. Mav needed to protect Victoria, whether he wanted to or not. But why from Archie? Mav had told Victoria himself—this marriage was strictly business.

  Victoria had already covered her face by the time Mav looked at her. He wished he could see her reaction to their kiss. The other women of Mav’s acquaintance found him terrifying; at least that’s what he’d surmised by their distant expressions and lack of conversation.

  “Stay right where you are,” Marianne said, gesturing to the cake being hauled into the back of the room. “Pearl didn’t believe the wedding legitimate without refreshment befitting the ceremony.”

  The tiered wedding cake was placed in the center of the room. Mav wasn’t surprised Pearl had baked one—she was the sentimental type. However, he was slightly surprised to see Bronco and Luke brawling over the dessert in a matter of minutes. They were savages—yes—but in front of their new brides?

  Mav shook his head. He wouldn’t waste his time playing in the mess of crumpled cake and frosting that was flung around the room like confetti. Already some of the women had been forced into the food fight.

  “A blasted shame,” Mav said beneath his breath. “Pearl does make a fine cake. I’d have liked to eat that instead of watching this display.”

  Victoria didn’t respond. Instead, she darted to another woman’s side, one that was now covered in cake by the hands of another agent—Wyatt. Victoria tried to help the woman up, but the floor had grown slippery, and Victoria was beginning to fall into the pile of agents.

  And then Wyatt threw a handful against Victoria’s veil.

  Mav nearly tackled the other agent. Somehow, he restrained himself and settled on flinging Victoria onto his shoulder instead. He wouldn’t allow her to be subjected to the barbarians.

  Victoria kicked her legs and squealed. “Set me down right this instant, or I’ll have your hide!”

  Mav grinned. He’d like to see her try; he sensed she was all bark and no bite.

  “Right now,” she ordered once again.

  By now, he’d carried her out of the room, and he set her to her feet. Mav chuckled. “I won’t have you wrestling around with those bulls.”

  “Oh?” Victoria threw off her veil, revealing an angry scowl. “I hadn’t the least idea of joining in their diversions. I was only trying to help Diana. Why would you care anyway? Isn’t this strictly business?”

  Mav took in a slow breath. She was a fiery little thing. Her cheeks were almost as red as her lips—lips he’d recently had the nerve to kiss. “Your first lesson as an agent—never allow your sympathies to embroil you in the mess of others. You could have hurt yourself in the process of trying to help.”

  She folded her arms. “I won’t relinquish my sympathy, Mr. Jones.” She brushed her hand through her tousled curls and straightened her dress. Her voice fell softer. “But I suppose you’re right. I’ll make note of it.”

  He lifted a brow. “You’re conceding that easily? I figured you’d more of a fight.”

  “Usually.” She pursed her lips and turned away… right in the direction of her brother.

  The color of Archie’s face matched Victoria’s auburn hair in only seconds. His hands flew in the air. “You can’t be serious?” he barked.

  Victoria’s eyes widened for a split second, but a stubbornness set into her clenched jaw. She looked to Mav. “It’s already done, Archie. You can’t exert your brotherly influence now.”

  “Oh, no?” Archie asked.

  Mav swallowed. Out of all the men, why had he been so unlucky as to get the sister of Archie, and, in turn, his employer’s contempt? Mav raked his hand through his hair. “I told you I ain’t got a pig in this fight. Leave me out of this.”

  Victoria’s gaze snapped to him. “Pardon me? You most certainly do; I’m your wife.”

  “Strictly business,” Mav reminded her.

  Archie lifted a finger, pointing from his sister to Mav. “This—this won’t work. You two are liable to bite off each other’s heads by the end of your first case. Let me help you, Victoria. I’m not sure how you managed this, but it won’t happen. If you’re truly set on working for the agency, let me find you work in the office—perhaps with Marianne? And Mav,” he said, turning, “if you ever lay a finger on my sister again, you’ll be heading straight out of the office in search of new employment.”

  Mav lifted his hands in the air, retreating a few steps. “I told you—I only want to be an agent. It was a wedding, Archie. You can’t tell me a kiss ain’t allowed.”

  Archie grunted. “I won’t allow this.”

  Victoria tapped the badge now pinned to her dress. Marianne had given it to her before the wedding. “I’m afraid you’re much too late. I’ve already been sworn in, and you married Maverick and me yourself. It’d take over a month to get an annulment. Are you willing to do without Maverick’s work for that long? I doubt he’d be willing to go without pay that long.”

  Mav started forward. “A month without pay?”

  Archie’s mouth twisted into a sour pucker. He was silent for a long moment, and though his anger hadn’t seemed to fade the slightest, his voice lowered. “Fine. I can’t argue with the facts. I’ve already assigned a case to Mav, but how you’ll fit into it baffles me.”

  A sly smile met her lips, and for a moment, Mav fixated on them. She caught Mav gazing at her, and she cleared her throat. “Archie, don’t be so thick. I’m more than capable of handling a case—and Maverick for that matter.”

  Mav’s jaw clenched. “What’d you say?”

  She smiled again, and he couldn’t help but feel that curve held a secret. She turned back to her brother. “Trust me, Archie. I may be your little sister, but you’ll find I’m also a formidable agent. Educated and elegant, brave enough to take on my own brother—there are things I can add to this agency that your male agents haven’t a clue of.”

  Mav surveyed her; she didn’t look formidable, but educated and elegant? Her pink dress was fancier than any dress in the room and she used big words. As far as courage…Victoria’s pluck to join the agency and marry against the wishes of her brother—the highest Pinkerton in command of the Denver office— seemed the very definition.

  That or she was as stupid as stupid gets.

  Wyatt, covered in frosting, stood to the side. He cleared his throat and tapped Archie’s shoulder.

  Archie lifted his hand to keep the other man at a distance. “Look, I haven’t the time to change all this. I’ll allow this one case, Victoria, but afterward, we’ll have to sort this out.” He sighed. “Mav, you’ll return my sister in one piece, or you’ll end up in worse condition.”

  “Course,” Mav said, grinning. He’d a knack for rising to such challenges.

  “And you won’t kiss her again.” Archie’s eyes narrowed, and though his words were a command, he waited for Mav’s response.

  “Course. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Mav rubbed his knuckles together. He was never one for following orders. “Like I said, strictly business.”

  Archie nodded. “Glad we’re of the same opinion.”

  Mav turned to Victoria after Archie left with Wyatt.
He shook his head. “Do you have the slightest idea of what you’ve gotten yourself—and me—into? Most of the cases I take have to do with the most wicked of men. I doubt you’ll be using your schooling and elegance to solve any case.”

  She winced. “I’m not a child, and besides, I’ll have you to protect me.”

  “Right.” Mav threw back his head. He’d have to solve this case quick if he wanted to keep his promise to Archie. Keeping Victoria safe would prove difficult if she was as feisty as he gathered.

  3

  Victoria leaned against the train window. She massaged her temples and took in a deep breath. Her head rattled more than the train against the tracks. Victoria had overestimated her persuasive abilities. She’d left with Mav on the first train to San Francisco, and the majority of the ride was spent discussing ‘their plan’, which consisted solely of Mav bossing her around and rejecting her suggestions.

  “But we’ve still time before arriving in California. Discussing other options won’t hurt anything. In fact, I might surprise you; I’ve been known to conjure up genius ideas every now and again.” Victoria grasped her hands in her lap, nearly digging her nails through her gloves. Why wouldn’t he listen to her?

  Mav shook his head. His eyes lazily glossed over her. “We might be husband and wife in legal terms, but I’m used to acting alone. I won’t have you compromising this case with your giggling and smiling and battin’ lashes. If you’re to be useful, it’ll be in gaining the trust of Sophie Kemp.”

  Mrs. Sophie Kemp—the suspected culprit behind selling stolen and smuggled goods in her swanky emporium. ‘Suspected’ was the gentle term to describe Sophie Kemp, according to the file Marianne had put together. The woman was a snake in the grass—using her mass connections with low and high society alike to attain her objectives. Mrs. Sophie Kemp was a middle-aged widow, rumored to be uncommonly attractive—at least from all the firsthand accounts—and wealthy. And most alarming, she seemed to have the lawmen wrapped around her finger. Either the lawmen had some loose screws, or they turned a blind eye to her activities.