“You have to admit dancing is fun,” she shouted over the music.
He laughed, jerking her closer. “It’s not bad.”
“I can’t wait to take you to a real club in New Addison City. You’ll love it too.”
“I doubt it.” He winked. “I’ll go anyway.”
The song faded and the dancers paused to clap. A man in a cowboy hat and fringed leggings stepped forward on the stage in the ballroom. He waved his cap. “Hope y’all are having fun. I’ve had a request by yours truly, Zach Treasure, to do a line dance. Now, I know it’s not what most of you are familiar with, but let’s give it a go.”
Amethyst sought her brother near the stage. He clapped hands with the man. “What’s a line dance?” she asked, turning to Clark. Of course the west would have to ruin a perfect party.
“Never done it before?” Clark’s heated breath tickled her cheek. “You follow what the man says. We’ll stay in the back so you won’t be noticed if you make a mistake.”
“It’s a new step? They never mentioned line dancing at school, and I took dance lessons since grade one.” Amethyst Treasure knew every dance, and the way she moved made everyone gawk. Stumbling through a new dance would shatter that image. “I’ll just watch this one—”
“No, you won’t.” Clark steered her toward the back.
“I’ll demand they do a different song!”
“Don’t do that to Zachariah.”
“How does he even know that man?” she sputtered as he pushed her against the back wall. “A hostess doesn’t fraternize with the band.”
“Zachariah knows him from the army. Did you hear him request that band?”
Amethyst blinked. “When did he say that? I don’t ignore him that much.”
“Ready?” the cowboy hat man asked. The crowd of men and women in suits and ball gowns cheered. No, they should be demure, polite. They should clap and smile, not cheer and whistle. Those manners belonged in a club, not a charity ball.
In unison, her family’s guests formed straight lines. Clark pulled her into the rear queue.
“What are we doing?” she snapped. “This looks ridiculous.” They would think her a fool. At least ten people had commented on seeing her in papers or hearing her name mentioned when they were last in the east. “I have a reputation!”
“Swing your partner round and round,” the band leader chanted. The lines split into partners, men grabbing a woman’s waist, and they spun. Clark did the same for her, but he tucked her head under his chin and spun slower than the others twirled. The band struck up another loud, fast beat.
“Right leg in, right leg out!”
One arm still around her waist, Clark shook his right leg forward and then back. The others did the same, almost in unison. How dare they do such a disgusting move? Legs stayed under a person’s torso, not waving about. That belonged in the bedroom, not a ballroom.
“Do-Si-Do, Do-Si-Do!”
Clark and all the other bumpkins placed their fists on their hips and stomped forward, sideways, backwards…a blur of skirts and suits. The man on Amethyst’s other side bumped against her. She stumbled, her slipper heel twisting. Gasping, she grabbed Clark’s shoulder to right herself. People laughed. Could it be at her?
Face hot, Amethyst whirled away and stormed toward the door. More people stood in the doorway clapping with the music. She shoved past them into the hallway, her chest heaving beneath her beaded corset.
“Am, what are you doing?” Clark jogged to her side. “It’s fun.”
“It’s embarrassing.” Hot tears pricked her eyes. “I’m a perfect dancer. This song isn’t fair.”
His smile slipped away. “You can’t be perfect at everything.”
Maybe she should’ve played along. He actually enjoyed it. Amethyst folded her arms, stomping toward the dining room. “I’m hungry.”
“Do you want me to teach you?” he asked as he followed her.
“Go back and enjoy the dance.”
“Not without you.”
She rubbed the corners of her eyes to banish the tears. “I’ll be fine.” Fewer people mingled amongst the food than in the ballroom. They paused to smile at the newcomers. How polite. Too bad her cosmetics were probably running all over her face. Leave it to Zachariah to ruin the party for her.
Clark brushed his hand over her back. “Remember when we danced outside at Donald’s party?”
“Yes?”
He took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and steered her out the glass doors in the back of the dining room. Night air bathed her flushed cheeks and she closed her eyes, allowing him to lead her down the stone pathway.
“Tonight was supposed to be wonderful,” she muttered. “I was going to take Hedlund.”
“You don’t have to take everything.”
“That’s what I do. They call me the princess of New Addison City.”
“You’re my princess.”
She lifted her eyelids to blink at him. “That’s such a courtship saying.”
They’d come to the gazebo behind the ballroom. Music vibrated through the walls. Clark rested his hands on her hips to draw her closer.
“Let me teach you out here,” he whispered.
She looped her arms behind his head. “That’s another courtship saying.”
“Maybe I’m trying to court you, then.” He lowered his lips until they touched hers, his tongue brushing her mouth with a sweetness that made her legs tingle.
“I thought you were already.” She lifted to her toes to press their lips tighter.
“Too bad I don’t have a loose sister,” Joseph said. “We could’ve been having so much fun.”
lark’s stomach clenched and his breathing rasped as his throat tightened. He shouldn’t have allowed Amethyst to get in the way of his survival. He didn’t have time for a lover. He didn’t even have time to find his father’s blasted inventions. Staying with the Treasures had been a mistake. If he’d gone onward, he would’ve been safe. He could’ve had time with the gang, with the Bromi, found other quick jobs at ranches.
Joseph stepped from the shadows with a smoking cigar between two fingers while he clapped, his expression cast in darkness.
“I was teaching Amethyst how to line dance,” Clark said. His last hope would be to lie smoothly enough.
“I’m sure that’s how all siblings learn to dance.” Joseph leaned against the gazebo. “Continue. I’m curious to see where this lesson leads.”
Amethyst clung to his sleeves. That made the situation so much better. She distracted him too much; he forgot to watch for people. Keeping her to himself had poisoned his mind.
“It’s dark out,” Clark said. “I’m not sure what you saw, but if you want to join the lesson, we won’t mind.”
“I’m thankful Mistress Treasure thought to light the pathways. It provides a clear view, and even if it were dark, my ears don’t lie.”
“Joseph.” Amethyst tipped her head to the side, her earrings jingling. “No one will believe you over me.”
Of course she had to ruin their chances of lying to freedom.
“It will certainly cause a scandal, won’t it?” Joseph blew a puff of smoke at them. “I’m not surprised, Amethyst. I knew you were flirty. You’ve had so many courtships. I thought I was a bit different, though. Then I see you here with your brother.” He cleared his throat. “Bastard half-brother.”
Amethyst bit her lower lip. “That’s what we do. We court and we move on.”
“Amethyst,” he growled, “we court so we can marry. My parents are in love with you. You’re Amethyst Treasure. Do you know how amazing they think it is that we might wed?”
“It’s just courting.”
Clark winced. Was that how she viewed him? The world she grew up in saw flirting as a natural way of life. She’d never grown out of that mindset, but Joseph had, and he wanted to settle down to raise children in that same environment.
“You wanted to propose,” Clark whispered.
“My p
arents were excited about the summer camp for good reason,” Joseph said.
Amethyst shifted her stance. Some corner of her had probably wanted a catch like Joseph.
Joseph blew another puff. “I could understand if you had a fling with a ranch hand. You’re right, I know how you are, but your brother, Amethyst? Really?”
“Don’t do this to me.” Amethyst stepped toward him. “Don’t, Joseph.”
Even if the family didn’t believe him, the rest of the world would gobble up gossip about Amethyst Treasure making out with her brother. Clark wanted to peel off his skin to cover her, to protect her. He hadn’t felt that way about someone after his mother and Mabel had vanished. She’d wrapped herself in her own misery by playing the social game, but she didn’t deserve ridicule. She shouldn’t have led Joseph on, either; Clark should’ve insisted she end that as soon as he’d arrived.
“I’m not her brother.” Clark met Joseph’s eyes in the flickering light. “Her parents are using it as a ruse to protect me.”
Amethyst sucked in a breath and Joseph lowered the cigar from his mouth.
“My real name is Clark Grisham. My father, Eric Grisham, was friends with Garth Treasure.”
Joseph crossed him arms. “Everyone thinks you’re Garth’s bastard.”
“They want everyone to think that. The man who killed my father wants something he invented. They’re protecting me.” Clark steeled his emotions. The excuse sounded ridiculous.
Joseph dropped his cigar and squashed the smoldering tip with the heel of his boot. “Let me guess. If I ask anyone, they’ll deny it.”
And be shocked that Clark knew about his true past. “Yes.”
“It’s the truth. Look up Eric Grisham if you don’t believe us.” Amethyst’s voice wavered. What had become of the strong, selfish girl who assumed everything she did was perfect? He wished he could pull her against his chest and hold her, but that would add fuel to Joseph’s intimations.
“This charity ball is a front to make everyone further believe Clark is a Treasure,” Joseph said in a monotone.
That had to have been part of it. “Yes.”
“I’m heading back to New Addison City in the morning.” Joseph stared at Amethyst, his lips in a line. “If you want to come with me, have your bags packed. We’ll go together. If you want to stay here with whoever this Clark man is, then do so. You won’t hear from me.”
Clark cupped Amethyst’s shoulder and turned her to face him. “What do you want? If you want to return to the city, I’ll understand.”
Amethyst shook her head, her lips parted. “I want to stay here. You know that.”
Clark glanced up at Joseph, but he’d slipped along the path where the light didn’t reach. “Bloody gears, I hate relying on others.” If he had to, he could run again, and Amethyst might even go with him.
If she wanted.
An owl hooted from the tree in the yard. It would fly off soon, once dawn took a firmer hold. The Bromi slave loaded Joseph’s trunks into the steamcoach. Amethyst folded her arms as she stood on the front porch. The breeze sent goose bumps across her skin beneath her velvet robe and silk camisole. Clark would wonder where she was, but she’d chosen to go to bed alone, and then kept herself awake to watch for Joseph’s departure.
Standing beside the coach, he tugged his leather gloves over his fingers and glanced up at her. “I left Master Treasure a letter with my thanks and apologies for leaving so abruptly.”
She would have to find the letter to make sure he hadn’t written anything incriminating. “You don’t have to leave.”
“Don’t.” Joseph shook his head. She could hear her words in his. Don’t, Joseph.
“I’m sorry.” At least she, Joseph, and the Bromi slave were the only ones available to overhear.
“At first I thought when you showed up here this morning you were coming with me.” Joseph opened the door to the coach. “Goodbye, Amethyst Treasure.”
The old Amethyst might have screamed at him to come back. She deserved worship, not to be tossed aside. Joseph should try to win her back. He could woo her with chocolates and hair ribbons.
She didn’t care about Joseph. How he acted towards her didn’t matter in the least. She had Clark.
The steamcoach sailed down the driveway, morning mist parting for its passage. It would burn off fast in the desert heat. At least the house stayed cool. If she hurried, they could snuggle before the day grew too hot.
“Amethyst,” her mother said from the doorway.
She froze, her hands clenching into fists. Everyone should be sleeping off the party that had ended only an hour before.
“Why did Joseph leave?”
“I thought you were asleep.” That would be a safe comment.
Her mother wore a brocade bathrobe tied around her waist, the lace of a nightgown peeking from the hem. “I can never sleep after a soiree. Much too excited.”
“Same here.” A lie. She’d learned to fall asleep as soon as she retired so she could be ready for the next night’s entertainment.
“Joseph left.” Georgette didn’t make it a question.
“He thought it would be best.” Another safe comment.
“You’re no longer courting?”
Not him. “What’s it matter? He left. He saw Ashleigh die. What else do you expect him to do? Stay here forever?” She pushed past her mother and ran for the stairs, her slippers slapping the floor.
“I’m sorry.” Her mother’s voice drifted after her. Let her mother think Amethyst mourned Joseph’s departure.
She locked her bedroom door and hurried across the balcony to Clark’s room, tapping thrice against his door. He might be asleep. She bounced on the balls of her feet. She needed to see him, talk to him, remind herself he was real even if Joseph wasn’t anymore.
The curtain parted to his face. Without smiling, he opened the door and she grabbed him around the waist, her face against his chest, breathing in the scent of sandalwood her mother used on his clothes.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Marry me, Clark.”
aptain Greenwood paced his office. The world map glared at him from the wall, as if taunting him to find that Clark Treasure. The world might be large, but it didn’t stretch forever. That bastard dwelled somewhere. All Captain Greenwood had to do was locate him on the blasted map.
The army captain shoved his leather-bound ledgers off his desk. They struck the floor and papers slid. A glass stylus rolled under the filing cabinet.
Captain Greenwood slapped the telegraph sheet onto the cleared off space of his desk and dropped into his chair so hard the carved feet scraped the hardwood floor. His secretary should’ve sent him that paper sooner. It was too important to be left in the stack awaiting his return. The wretch could’ve shipped it to him. That was what he got for vacationing on the east coast. Boating, stretching his toes in the sand while his children frolicked in the waves, eating lobsters with his childhood buddies…none of that mattered when Clark Treasure had been spotted back in Tangled Wire almost a month before.
He adjusted his gold-framed spectacles as he squinted at the paper. No, it had been more than a month ago. “Blood and balls.”
A knock sounded on his office door. “Captain Greenwood?” Why had he hired such a timid mouse for a secretary? Who cared if she was his best friend’s daughter? The girl didn’t have enough common sense to boil water.
“Come in!”
The pause let him know his growl had made her bite her lower lip. Again. The brass knob turned, the door creaked open, and the little chit took a step in. She clutched a tome to her chest, her arms trembling as if she were a leaf about to be ripped off a branch by a windstorm.
“Sir?” She gulped. Stray brown hairs escaped from her chignon to cling to her face and neck. Others stuck straight up. Could she never look neat? “I found w-what you w-were looking for.”
“Bring it here,” he snarled.
She ran, stumbling over her shoes, to drop the tome on his de
sk. It covered the telegraph.
“Not there, you imbecile!” He shoved it off the paper. “Did you find which coat of arms matched the description in the message?” The man who’d spotted Clark Treasure back in Tangled Wire had described the brand on the steamcoach he’d driven off in. Captain Greenwood might have to send one of his soldiers to retrieve the spy if they needed more information.
“I-I did, sir.” The top button of her white blouse had popped open and he caught a glimpse of her lace chemise. How unladylike. Couldn’t she find a way to keep her clothes from coming undone? “Sounds like the Treasure brand, sir.”
Captain Greenwood clenched his hands into fists. “Impossible. The Treasures wouldn’t help a criminal. They’re upstanding citizens. By the gears that run our country, they own more than half the state of Hedlund.”
“His last name is Treasure. Perhaps he’s related?” She tugged down her brown under bust corset as it rode up. Why did she wear such things when she didn’t have enough bosom to support them?
“He’s not blooming related,” Captain Greenwood scowled. “His mother was a Tarnished Silver. He worked in a mine, for crying aloud. You think Captain Treasure would let a family member grovel like that. No, they take care of their own. Lots of folk adopt the names of the well-to-do, make them feel like they mean something in the world.” He smiled to make his secretary cringe. “I killed his mother myself. That’s the kind of bloody lot they are.”
Her eyes widened. “Did she deserve it?”
“Every Tarnished Silver deserves what she gets.” Captain Greenwood chuckled. “That woman begged me to look after her son, not to hurt him. Oh, we won’t hurt him. We need him more than that.”
“How did you kill her?” his secretary whispered. Her skin had paled more than usual, the rouge on her cheeks looking like two apples shoved into an unbaked pie crust.
“The general who’d finished pricking her held her down while I slit her throat.” Captain Greenwood flipped through the tome until he came to the Treasure crest: an eagle flying over a mountain. It fit the spy’s description. Could Clark Treasure have gone to Captain Treasure seeking protection?
Treasure, Darkly (Treasure Chronicles Book 1) Page 24
