Match of Wits (Ladies of Distinction Book #4) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Jen Turano

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

140 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

After his departure from New York two years ago to meet up with his almost-fiancée, Zayne Beckett is the last person Agatha Watson wanted to stumble upon in her travels as a reporter with the New York Tribune. Quite pathetically bedraggled, he clearly needs to be taken in hand and sent back East to his family. Although she no longer has feelings for him, Agatha realizes, by hook or by crook, she'll have to be the one to get the obstinate man home.Zayne has no desire to be taken anywhere and is prepared to drag his heels all the way home... until he finds himself slipping back into the familiar banter of his former friendship with Agatha. Once they arrive in New York, Zayne realizes Agatha's determined nose for news has earned her a few enemies, and he hopes to repay her help with some help of his own. When she rebuffs all his attempts to prove himself a knight in shining armor, the lengths to which they'll go to win this battle of wills lead to some memorable antics. Everyone else may think them a match, but nothing could be further from the truth--until Agatha finds herself in real trouble. Have these two stubborn, too-smart-for-their-own-good people been meant for each other all along?

Sujets

Historical fiction

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	24 juin 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441264138
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0202€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2014 by Jennifer L. Turano
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www . bakerpublishinggroup . com
Ebook edition created 2014
Ebook corrections 12.05.2019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6413-8
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by John Hamilton Design
Author represented by The Seymour Agency
For Dominic
I’ve watched you turn into an extraordinary young man, Dom, which, quite honestly, has surprised me upon occasion given that you were such a terror in your youth. Since I know you loathe anything of a mushy nature, I’ll keep this simple—I’m incredibly proud to call you my son.
Love you always, Mom
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Jen Turano
Back Ads
Back Cover
1

C OLORADO —L ATE S EPTEMBER 1883
S ometimes, no matter how independent and self-assured a young lady believes herself to be, certain situations demand a good dose of screaming.
Dropping her traveling bag to the floor, Miss Agatha Watson snapped her mouth shut when she realized her shrieks were hurting her ears and took a hesitant step forward. For some reason, there was a blanket scooting her way, but what was underneath that blanket, well, she couldn’t actually say.
Her heart continued pounding in her chest when the blanket moved closer, but when an adorable little pig popped out her lips curled into a grin.
“Aren’t you just the most darling thing ever, but . . . good heavens, is that foam dripping from your snout?” Backing up a step, she considered the pig, and her eyes widened when it began pawing the ground, right before it charged directly at her. Spinning on her heel, she raced out the door, fresh screams erupting from her lips.
The hallway soon filled with employees of the Antlers Hotel. But rather than coming to her aid, they thundered past with barely a glance tossed her way. Stopping in her tracks, she turned and watched in dumbfounded amazement as the employees hovered around the pig.
It was an odd circumstance to be sure.
“What did you do to poor Matilda?” one of the hotel maids demanded as she straightened and sent Agatha a glare.
“I think a more pertinent question would be what Matilda did to me. There I was, tired from my journey and looking forward . . .” Agatha’s words trailed off when she glanced to the pig and found that the fierce beast of only a moment before was nowhere to be found. In its place was a quivering mass of pink cuteness that was emitting noises that almost sounded like sobs.
Edging back down the hallway, Agatha stopped a few feet away from the gathered employees but far enough from the pig that, if it decided to attack, she’d have enough room to bolt. “As I was saying, I really didn’t do anything to the pig other than open my door and take it by surprise.”
“Better watch the P-I-G word, Miss,” a lanky man with rather bad skin said as he rose to his feet. “Matilda doesn’t react very well when people call her that.”
“I highly doubt she understands the meaning of words.”
Shaking his head, the man lowered his voice. “Strange as this may seem, she does, at least the P-I-G word. I think someone must have abused her mightily in the past, and she thinks bad things are going to happen to her when that word is used.”
“How unusual. I—” Agatha began, but a loud clearing of a throat distracted her from the numerous questions she’d immediately longed to ask regarding the pig and its abil ity to comprehend words. Knowing all too well who was responsible for that particular clearing of a throat—something she’d heard on an alarmingly frequent basis over the past year—she squared her shoulders and swung around. Her gaze reluctantly locked with that of Mr. Blackheart, the gentleman who’d been hired to protect her.
Unfortunately, he was not gazing back at her with understanding on his face. His expression was filled with nothing less than clear disapproval, a look she was becoming quite accustomed to viewing. The thought flashed to mind that she just might have to send a telegram to Mr. Theodore Wilder, the most reputable private investigator in all of New York and Mr. Blackheart’s employer, requesting a change of guard. The months she’d spent in Mr. Blackheart’s company were beginning to take a toll on her. And even though she knew full well she needed someone by her side as she traveled around the West in pursuit of articles for the New-York Tribune , Mr. Blackheart’s time with her might need to come to an end.
There was only so much disapproval a lady should be expected to experience.
“Miss Watson,” Mr. Blackheart began, “explain to me, if you please, how you’ve managed to become embroiled in yet another bout of calamity. I left you alone for only a miniscule amount of time while I saw Mrs. Swanson settled, and yet here you are in trouble again.”
“Honestly, Mr. Blackheart, it’s not as if every calamity that occurs is of my making. If it has escaped your notice, there seems to be a mad pig in our midst, one that I’m fairly certain was intent on harming my person.”
Mr. Blackheart switched his attention to Matilda. “It’s only a small pig. What did you expect it to do to you—gnaw off a toe or perhaps nuzzle you with its snout?”
Agatha lifted her chin. “It’s frothing at the mouth.”
“You naughty girl,” the man with splotchy skin crooned as he shook his finger at Matilda. “You’ve been in the chalk again I see.”
Agatha blinked. “She’s been eating chalk, as in blackboard chalk?”
The maid who was still hovering over Matilda nodded. “We were concerned when we learned the teacher staying in your room was allowing Matilda to eat it, but the little darling seems to love it. Once it became clear she wasn’t getting sick, we stopped fussing about it. They seemed to be getting along so well, but the teacher up and departed this morning, and she actually balked at our suggestion she take Matilda with her.”
“I wonder why?” Agatha asked, glancing down at the drooling pig that was now rooting around the floor, obviously searching for something else to eat.
“I have no idea,” the maid replied before she gave a sad shake of her head. “But if someone doesn’t offer to take her soon, I’m afraid she’s destined for the slaughterhouse.”
At that pronouncement, Matilda stopped rooting, began quivering harder than ever, let out a mournful squeal, and promptly scampered back into Agatha’s room.
“I take it she has an issue with the word slaughterhouse as well?” Agatha asked, and the employees nodded back at her. Curiosity sent her after the pig, and she grinned when she spotted a wiggly pig tail sticking out from under the bed. Finding herself charmed in spite of the fact the pig had scared her senseless only moments before, she moved farther into the room but came to an abrupt halt when a distinctly disgruntled voice sounded from behind her.
“Do not even tell me that pig is still here.”
She looked up and discovered Mr. Farrington, the manager of the hotel, marching her way. He brushed past her and seemed to swell on the spot when he caught sight of Matilda’s backside, which had stopped wiggling. He turned around and narrowed his eyes at his employees.
“Well?” he demanded. “Would someone care to explain why that pig is not yet off to a farm?”
“Matilda doesn’t actually care for farms,” a maid mumbled.
“Did she tell you of her dislike?” Mr. Farrington asked.
“Not exactly, but you see, I tried to take her out to old Mr. Galloway’s homestead, sir, but . . .”
“But what?”
“She turned up back here a few hours later.” The woman’s eyes grew round. “It was truly remarkable that a little thing like Matilda was even up for such a long journey.”
A tic began throbbing on Mr. Farrington’s temple before he looked back at Agatha. “You must accept my deepest apologies, Miss Watson. Pigs are not a normal occurrence here, but I’m certain it was quite the shock to find a pig in your room. I’ll have another room readied straightaway. And while that’s being taken care of, I’d like to offer you a complimentary meal in our fine dining room. By the time you’re finished eating, I can guarantee your new room will be perfect, and I assure you, you’ll not see that abomination again.”
Noticing the telling glare Mr. Farrington was sending Matilda’s way, Agatha’s heart gave a tiny lurch. The poor pig was now trying to squeeze under the bed—a futile attempt if there ever was one, because its backside was much too large. “Forgive me, but I have to ask, what are your intentions for the pig?”
A snort of obvious protest erupted from under the bed.
Mr. Farrington licked his lips. “I enjoy a nice slice of ham upon occasion, and since no one seems to want to take responsibility for the pig, well . . .”
Matilda let out a high-pitched squeal right as she finally managed to disappear from view.
Uncomfortable with the thought of Mr. Farrington serving Matilda for dinner, Agatha opened her mouth, but before she could utter a single word, Mr. Blackheart gripped her arm. He pulled her across the room at a rapid clip, pausing for only a second to scoop up her bag from the floor with his free hand. Tugging her past th