Free A Match of Wits by Jen Turano Page B

at least not until the spring, which means you have absolutely no reason to resist returning home to New York.”
    Zayne’s mouth dropped open, he peered at her through dirt-encrusted lashes, and then . . . the yelling began.

5

    Z ayne stretched out his legs and leaned back against the plush seat as a distinct sense of disgruntlement settled over him. That disgruntlement made it next to impossible for him to enjoy the opulence of the private Pullman car on the train his family had sent for him. And that gave him yet another reason to be annoyed with Agatha.
    She’d always been a meddler, but this time she’d gone too far.
    Not only had she blown up his mine, she’d somehow decided—even though he thought he’d been more than clear about the matter—she needed to take him in hand. She’d been spending almost every minute of the past two weeks since the unfortunate incident as she liked to call it, ordering him around. She’d even gone so far as to personally pack up his meager belongings before they’d boarded the train to head east.
    He was beginning to lose patience with her.
    His foul mood increased when the door to the train car opened. Knowing the morsel of quiet he’d finally been ableto obtain was soon to disappear, he narrowed his eyes at the door but sighed in relief when only Mr. Blackheart strode into view. His lips curled just a bit when he got a good look at the man. Mr. Blackheart was wearing his ever-present scowl, but his normally well-groomed hair was slightly untidy, giving clear testimony that something was bothering him—something that probably went by the name of Agatha.
    “What’s wrong with you?” Zayne asked.
    “The ladies are what’s wrong with me, or more specifically, Miss Watson.” Mr. Blackheart dropped into a chair next to Zayne and began rubbing his temple. “I swear, once we reach New York, I’m off to my club—one that, thankfully, doesn’t admit ladies and one where peace and quiet is the order of the day.” He stopped rubbing his head and looked around. “Although, this setup you have here is very nice, very peaceful at the moment.” His gaze sharpened. “Is that Matilda’s tail sticking out from under your bed?”
    “It is. She seems to have taken a peculiar liking to me.”
    “Highly doubtful, since it’s become clear she doesn’t like men. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say she likes sleeping in here because it’s never quiet in the ladies’ Pullman car.” Mr. Blackheart eased his head back against the chair. “But do be sure to thank your family for me for sending us this train. I certainly wasn’t expecting to travel back east in such luxury. It’s made it easier to watch Miss Watson with no other passengers onboard, only highly competent members of the staff.” He considered Zayne for a second. “Why do you think your family sent us our own train?”
    A tiny trace of remorse stole through Zayne’s dark mood. He knew full well he’d been horribly negligent when it came to his family after the accident. His mother and father had come to see him while he’d been recovering, but they’d leftbefore Helena had abandoned him. He’d sent them a letter, explaining briefly that he and Helena were through. He’d also let them know he needed to be by himself for a while, but he’d never bothered to tell them anything about the mining venture.
    A monthly telegram telling them he was still alive was all he’d managed. It had been a very telling statement of how much his parents wanted him home when, after sending them word he was coming back to New York, they’d immediately arranged for this train.
    “Are you feeling unwell?”
    Zayne forced a smile. “I’m fine, simply lost in thought.”
    “Those must have been some thoughts.”
    “Perhaps, but I don’t care to discuss them.” His smile dimmed. “I’d offer you a drink, but Agatha poured out every drop of alcohol I tried to bring with me.”
    “I’m fairly sure, if you’re really