An Agent for Victoria: Pinkerton Matchmakers, #7

By Katie Marie Clark

A desperate woman, determined to prove her worth to the agency. An ex-outlaw and seasoned agent who only works alone. When Mr. Archibald orders a marriage for the sake of the case (and agency), will these two be able to keep things strictly business, or will their marriage turn into something to last? 

 

When Victoria Gordon finds out her brother, Detective Archibald Gordon, is pairing his agents with wives in an effort to integrate women into the field, she can't pass up the opportunity to join the Pinkertons. Besides living a life on the outside, always looking in, Victoria's admired one particular agent—Mav Jones—for far too long. With the help of her brother's secretary, Victoria finds a way to scheme her way into the agency, but can she scheme her way into the heart of one of the agency's most dangerous men? 

 

Mav Jones isn't happy about the idea of female agents; he's known too many silly women. So when Archie convinces Mav to marry for the sake of a case, Mav agrees but only under certain conditions. He determines the marriage is strictly business, but his new wife is surprisingly familiar, all too beautiful, and in deeper trouble than she realizes. 

 

Thrust into the 1871-San Francisco world of stolen and smuggled goods, enemies and allies, truth and lies, can Mav and Victoria navigate their way without falling into harm's way and into each other's arms? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barr26 Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Nov 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223582540

Book preview

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May 1871

Victoria Gordon tip-toed closer to the door. The shouting, which had reached an all-time high, had lured her in. She couldn’t take the suspense a moment longer. Her brother had lost all control of the agency as of late. Without his secretary, Marianne, he’d have a mutiny on his hands.

Another agent was currently at the chopping block.

She smiled. In all honesty, she should have been more concerned for Archie; her brother didn’t stand a chance against any of the agents. They were younger, stronger, and, more often than not, more likely to throw the first punch. What was Archie discussing anyways…something about female applicants arriving…?

Curiosity might kill her one day. Victoria pressed her cheek against the door, and to her mortification, the latch slipped, and the door opened wide.

Archie was standing at his desk. His cheeks were red and his eyes bulging— the usual result of her brother’s Scottish temper. His jaw dropped at the sight of Victoria.

Maverick Jones, perhaps the most dangerous of all the Pinkerton agents—not to mention the most handsome—sat across from Archie. From all appearances, Maverick seemed to have been on the receiving end of the yelling. His legs were spread out in front of him, and one of his boots rested on a nearby chair.

Victoria tried to recover from her humiliation, brushing her fingers down her skirt and smiling. Pardon me, Archie. I hadn’t an idea you were busy.

You can’t just come into my office, Archie said, growling.

She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Archie hated to be teased. Her brother could be ever so dramatic, especially in front of his agents, and Victoria didn’t want to cause any more of a scene. Has something happened? Another case lost? She paused and flipped her curls behind her shoulder. You know, I’ve been around long enough to recognize when—

My cases are private. What part of that can’t you understand? Archie asked. He rubbed a hand along his beard and returned his gaze to the man seated across from him. Apologies, Mav. I can’t seem to manage my little sister any better than I can that secretary of mine. Women in the field might prove its ruin. Mark my words.

Maverick shot Victoria a furrowed-brow glance, smirking. There was no mistaking his disinterest in both his previous conversation and this one; his shoulders relaxed against the leather chair. Ain’t no matter.

Women in the field? What a splendid idea! Victoria sauntered to the edge of Archie’s desk, pretending not to notice the exquisite profile of the agent seated across from her brother. You’d see less cases lost, and more money earned if you decided upon such action.

Maverick stood. I reckon I don’t have a pig in this fight. Mr. Gordon, he said, tipping his cowboy hat. I’ll be filing my notes with Marianne straight away.

Seeing Maverick Jones’s figure disappear into the hallway was a shame. Indeed, Victoria had hardly seen a finer cut of a man. She leaned back on her heels, nearly wobbling on her hind, to catch a final glimpse.

Could you be any more ridiculous? Archie asked. He spun a pencil in his hands. This isn’t the place to find suitors. Go to town. Heaven knows you’ve got charms enough to settle a husband. Why do you persist in barging into my office and admiring my men—men, I remind you, that aren’t available in the slightest? Catching the eye of Mav Jones would be the worst choice of your domestic happiness. He’s always running to and fro, not to mention the danger that follows him wherever he goes.

She brushed her hand against her brother’s arm. But where is the fun in a spoiled and silly city man? Denver society hardly suits me, and the men? Even less.

Archie exhaled. What is it? What do you want—more dresses, more pin money? Tell me, so that I can return to my work.

She blinked back dry tears; she never cried. But a lump formed in the back of her throat, aching with each breath. Do I have to have a reason to visit my brother? Archie had been so immersed in his work, and for so long, that he could hardly be bothered to notice her. Don’t you give your agents breaks between assignments—time to recuperate before turning them onto the next case?

Yes… Archie lifted a brow. What’s it to you?

She sat in the chair opposite his desk, where Maverick had been, and smoothed her skirt. Why don’t you ever take breaks?

I’m in charge of the Denver office, Victoria. I shouldn’t have to remind you of my responsibilities—

Like me? She dropped her gaze.

After her parents had died, she’d been forced to set sail for America and meet her brother—a man who’d fled Scotland when she was only three years old. Archie, ever the dutiful man, took sole responsibility for her. At least in most aspects. He was attentive to the essentials, and she’d enough money and dresses and bobbles to her name to prove it. She’d finished schooling at Wesleyan College a year ago—a feat for any woman in 1871—and since then, Victoria had joined her brother in Denver.

She’d thought Archie would be happy to have her back at his side, but he seemed only mildly pleased—and that was only on the good days. Her brother inquired little of her schooling, even less of her happiness, and believed her only expectation in life was to marry.

Victoria. Archie’s shoulders relaxed. I know I’ve been preoccupied, perhaps even neglectful in some regards. You remember the motto of the Pinkerton Agency?

We never sleep.

He swallowed, and the ball of his throat bobbed up and down. Right.

She managed a weak smile. You spoke of women in the field? Is Denver finally coming around then? I’ve heard of female agents in other places.

He nodded. I’ve been tasked to find willing and able women. I’ve sent an ad to be placed in papers both westward and eastward.

She lurched forward and pressed her arms to her sides in hopes of containing the excitement coursing through her veins. Since she’d first met Archie and heard of his work, she’d wished to be a part of the agency. You’ve probably already decided upon your first hire then?

His shoulders rolled back once more, and his eyes narrowed. I’ve hardly released the call for applicants. What do you mean?

She rose from the chair and curtsied. Reporting for duty, Mr. Gordon.

He said nothing. The silence stifled her anticipation and suffocated any hope of persuasion. Archie seemed no more amused at her proposal than he’d been by her unannounced visit. He was well on his way to becoming the grumpiest and most horrid brother.

He stepped closer, and he placed his hands over her arms.

I’ve heard stranger ideas, Victoria said, daring to meet her brother’s gaze. The same blood coursed through their veins, and she continually mistook that physical connection for something deeper—kinship. No one would suspect a woman of fashion and education of being in league with the agency.

But I won’t allow it. One eye flinched as he spoke, and his jaw jutted forward. Now, get back to your dresses and friends, and don’t forget you’ll be dining at Mr. Henderson’s tonight. His secretary has sent me no less than three reminders.

Victoria’s hands balled into fists. Archie hadn’t given her a single consideration, not when or where it mattered. She sighed and gathered her purse from the desk. You can assure Mr. Henderson I’ll be ready for his carriage. Will I be seeing you there as well? I’m sure there will be other women in attendance—perhaps one that will suffice for the famed Pinkerton agent, Archibald Gordon?

I’ll be here, working.

Victoria’s lips broke apart, spreading in disbelief. Archie was married to his work; of course he wasn’t interested in the company of a female, even that of his only sister. If Victoria could set him in his place by proving all that she had to offer the agency and all that he missed in life, she’d feel a thread of satisfaction. She pressed a hand against her racing heart. No matter. Enjoy your evening, Archie.

She let herself out of his office, making it a point to shut the front door louder than necessary. She leaned against it and closed her eyes. Moments like this brought out her Scottish tongue. She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping to stifle any distasteful phrase from leaving her lips.

Mouse? Is everything all right? came a feminine voice.

Victoria lifted her gaze to the woman standing in front of her—Marianne. She’d nicknamed Victoria Mouse when they met four years ago. After her parents’ deaths, Victoria hardly spoke a word and jumped at the slightest noise. Thank goodness her grief had passed. Victoria sighed. I’m quite finished with that insufferable brother of mine.

Marianne worked as Archie’s secretary, and she was only a year or two older than Victoria. After Victoria had finished her schooling, Archie had placed her in the apartment above the agency with Marianne as a roommate.

Marianne’s brows drew down. What’s happened now?

He’s been tasked to employ women in the agency, yet he refuses to consider me for the job. What woman is better suited? I’m educated and not the least suspicious. I’ve ties to the agency—I’ve heard more Pinkerton stories than I wager most women have, and I’m resourceful; there aren’t many women that come all the way from Scotland unaccompanied, become educated at one of the greatest women’s colleges, and spend their time in high society. Don’t you see? I’m perfectly suited. Victoria laughed and shook her head. "I’ve become desperate for adventure, desperate for something other than my