“I would have thought he’d go to New York City to do that,” Beatrix said.
“My thought as well,” Edgar said. “But after Gladys convinced Sir Julian that Georgia was a lovely young lady, he proposed to her within two weeks of meeting her. Then it came out that Sir Julian was under the mistaken belief that Georgia was Gladys’s ward and, as such, would be given a large dowry once she married.” Edgar shook his head. “Sir Julian all but fled Chicago when he discovered the truth, and last I heard, he married a mining heiress from Nebraska and is now living high on the hog back in England.”
“I was perfectly agreeable to settle a dowry on Georgia. Sir Julian just never gave me an opportunity to announce that,” Aunt Gladys complained.
“Because the bounder ran off into the night, leaving poor Georgia embarrassed and dejected.”
“True, but Georgia is now happily married to Mr. Marcus Thurman, so all’s well that ends well.”
“Whom she found without any interference from you.”
As Aunt Gladys and Edgar continued to squabble, Beatrix began shoveling forkfuls of eggs into her mouth, wishing she were anywhere except in the middle of the squabbling. Washing the eggs down with a glass of juice, she pretended she didn’t notice that Aunt Gladys was now glaring at Edgar, who was glaring right back at her aunt, an unusual action for a butler to take with his employer, which left Beatrix wondering if . . .
“I have matters to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me,” Edgar said, turning on his heel and stalking from the room.
“He’s such a delightful man,” Aunt Gladys exclaimed right as Phantom slipped back into the room and immediately sidled up to Beatrix, rubbing up against her leg quite as if he wanted to make certain she knew he was back.
She elected to ignore the cat, turning her attention to her aunt. “How long has Edgar worked for you?”
“Thirty years, give or take.” She released a sigh. “I always thought I’d eventually marry the man, but as the years pass by and he doesn’t broach the matter with me, I’m becoming resigned to the fact that I’ll always be a spinster, surrounded by more and more cats.”
“I thought you never wanted to marry.”
“Oh, I didn’t,” Aunt Gladys returned. “But that started to change probably after Edgar had been with me for fifteen years or so. That’s when I realized he’d become quite essential to my life, but he doesn’t seem willing to move past the fact that he’s the butler and I’m, well, me.” She took a sip of coffee, set aside her cup, then smiled. “But my disappointment aside, let us return to the subject of another delightful man. You’ve not mentioned much about Norman since I joined you at Kinsley’s, what was it, seven days ago now?”
“I haven’t seen Norman since then.”
“He’s not been to the store to visit you?”
“Not since last week, which was, again, seven days ago.”
Aunt Gladys sat back in her chair. “Ah, so you’ve been counting the days since you last saw him. Interesting.”
“I haven’t been counting the days. You just mentioned it was seven.”
“And you’re disappointed that he’s not been by the store to see you?”
“Only because I told him to keep me abreast of any news the Pinkerton man may have discovered about that accident we suffered. I’ve been waiting on tenterhooks to learn if anything’s been uncovered, but Norman has neglected to give me a report on the matter.”
“He is known about town as an absent-minded sort.”
“He’s not absent-minded in the least,” Beatrix argued. “Granted, he does occasionally become distracted with unusual mathematical equations, but if you ask me, Norman takes advantage of his unusual mind by using it as an excuse to keep people at a distance.”
“Hmm . . .” was all Aunt Gladys said to that.
“Should I even ask what you meant by hmm?”
“I would think it’s obvious.”
“Not to me.”
Aunt Gladys poured herself another cup of coffee, added cream and sugar, took a sip, then smiled. “You understand him, and you’ve done so in a remarkably short period of time. It’s telling.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is because I don’t believe many people take the time to try to understand Norman Nesbit, but you’ve evidently done exactly that, which means you’re interested in him.”
“He’s an interesting man.”
“That’s not what I said. You’re fond of him.”
“I never claimed differently.”
“Perhaps I should have said you’re overly fond of him.”
“I’m not sure I appreciate the direction this conversation is traveling,” Beatrix said, taking another bite of eggs. She swallowed and frowned. “And because of what happened with Miss Georgia, I’m now going to recommend you cease all thoughts of matchmaking because, as Edgar pointed out, you’re apparently not very good at it.”
“Do you recall what verse the sermon was centered around last Sunday?” Aunt Gladys asked.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Humor me.”
“Well, it was a verse from Isaiah, and I mentioned to you at the time it seemed appropriate because it centered around looking to the right or to the left, and then hearing a voice in your ear, saying ‘this is the way, walk in it.’ If you’ll recall, I thought it was timely because I’d just been pondering the path I was supposed to take when I was facing dismissal from the store and felt compelled to take the path that would keep me employed.”
Aunt Gladys beamed at her. “Exactly. That then had me pondering the verse as well, and I came to the conclusion that the path you’re meant to take may include something to do with Norman.”
“An odd conclusion to be sure.”
“It’s not when you consider the unusual circumstances that brought Norman into your life.” Aunt Gladys nodded. “He’s already very protective of you, and didn’t hesitate to try to whisk you away when he thought I was a madwoman. Why, I’d not be surprised to learn his action left you a bit weak in the
