Taking a moment to check in with Agent Cochran, who’d been lingering in the doorway, Norman felt relief flow over him when the Pinkerton man assured him there’d been no further trouble, and that his parents’ entire property was now sufficiently guarded and would continue to be guarded until the culprits behind the burglary were apprehended.
After thanking Agent Cochran for the update, Norman returned to Stanley’s office, finding Theo staring off into space before she evidently realized he’d returned, which had her turning to him.
“What’s wrong with Stanley?” were the first words out of her mouth.
“What do you mean?”
“He took my arm to escort me all of five feet and has begun calling me Theodosia when he normally calls me Miss Robinson. Now he just went off to fetch us coffee. It’s very unusual behavior for him.” She tilted her head. “Do you suppose he’s recently taken to studying etiquette books as well?”
“Why would he do that?”
“Perhaps he’s sweet on a lady and has decided, as you have, that he needs to improve the way he interacts with ladies.” Theo shrugged. “Maybe he’s practicing his charm on me since I’m the only woman around.”
“Why do you seem disappointed about that?”
“Who said I’m disappointed?”
“Your face says you’re disappointed.”
“I’m sure my face isn’t saying any such thing.”
“I’ll be happy to fetch a mirror so you can see that disappointment for yourself.”
“Theo doesn’t need a mirror,” Stanley said, reappearing through the door. “She looks lovely today, as she always does.”
Norman’s world shifted once again because, clearly, Stanley was not practicing being charming. He was, without a doubt, fond of Theo. And Theo, if Norman wasn’t mistaken, was fond of Stanley, which explained why she’d looked so disappointed when she’d been considering that Stanley was sweet on someone else.
Sitting back in his chair, Norman looked at Theo for a few seconds, then switched his attention to Stanley, then back to Theo, then Stanley, then . . .
“Why’s he doing that?” Stanley asked, taking a seat directly beside Theo, who smiled a smile that one could almost consider flirtatious—if it wasn’t coming from Theo, that is.
“He’s thinking, and apparently, very strenuously. He often stops talking when he thinks like that.”
“Do you find it as disconcerting as I do?”
“You get used to it after a while,” Theo said right as Stanley’s secretary, Mr. George Lennox, entered the room, carrying a tray that held a battered coffeepot and mismatched cups. Placing the tray on top of some of the paperwork on Stanley’s desk, he inclined his head and quit the room.
Theo moved to the coffeepot and poured out three cups. She added two cubes of sugar to the cup she handed to Stanley, one cube to the cup she handed to Norman, then took the last cup for herself, not adding a single cube because she always preferred her coffee black.
The notion that Theo knew how many cubes of sugar Stanley took in his coffee was telling in and of itself, and it suggested she’d been observing Stanley far more closely than Norman had realized over the years.
Retaking her seat, Theo took a sip of her coffee. “What were the two of you discussing before I arrived?”
Stanley smiled. “We were discussing Mort, an animal Norman told me you were responsible for badgering him into purchasing.”
Theo released a snort. “I didn’t badger him to buy Mort. I chose a magnificent black stallion that I thought warranted the name of noble steed. However, when I turned to point that stallion out to Norman, he wasn’t there. I found him talking to Mort, and before I could formulate a suitable argument against the mule, Norman had already bought the creature.”
Norman released a snort of his own. “I then bought you that stallion because you were so put out with me, so I’ll thank you to discontinue making disparaging remarks about Mort, something I’m certain must hurt his tender mule feelings.”
Theo nodded to Stanley. “I don’t say disparaging things about Mort. Norman’s exaggerating because he got annoyed with me earlier when I happened to mention that Mort seems to have only two speeds—slow and stop.” She smiled. “But Sebastian, my new stallion, suits the term noble steed most admirably because he’s fast and beautiful, although he does have a slightly questionable nature.”
“There’s nothing slightly questionable about Sebastian’s nature,” Norman argued. “He’s a nasty beast that scares both Mort and me half to death. That’s why I insisted you attach Rosie, your pony that is certainly feeling dejected by your acquiring of Sebastian, to your wagon today to spare Mort and me heart palpitations.”
Theo narrowed her eyes. “I’ve yet to find a single instance in any of our research books, fashion magazines, or even novels where anyone has been impressed by the sight of a man riding a mule.”
“Mules are a dependable mode of transportation.”
“If you don’t need to arrive at your destination in a timely fashion.”
Ignoring that remark, Norman turned to Stanley. “Weren’t you going to explain to me why you’ve taken to being out on the factory floor so much?”
Stanley grinned. “I think I’d rather continue listening to you and Theodosia discuss Mort.”
“There’s nothing more to discuss. Mort is a reliable mule, and that’s all I have to say about him. But returning to the factory?”
Stanley’s grin faded. “We’re experiencing some labor issues at the moment, mostly because the men are clamoring for an eight- or, at the very least, ten-hour workday. There’s been talk of a strike, which is why I’m now spending so much time on the factory floor.”
Theo sat forward. “My father’s been concerned about strikes at the Pullman company ever since the Haymarket Riot this past spring.”
Stanley sat forward as well, the action leaving him inches from Theo, who was now turning rather pink in the face again. “The Haymarket incident was troubling. Even though the men responsible for throwing those bombs in the midst of the policemen who’d come to
