“No.” He stood, walked over to his side of the bed, and took off his clothes. “It might be the best thing that ever happened to us.”
Eli should have been thrilled. The Golden Buck continued to have a waiting line every night. In a town where the single men outnumbered the single women by a large margin, it was to be expected. But he groused and grumbled through most nights. That many of the men came to gawk at his hostess caused him to behave like a lunatic. He’d seen the snickers on several customers’ faces as he followed in her wake like a puppy, but he had stopped caring over an hour ago.
Sylvia continued to be oblivious to all the attention, and treated everyone with her genuine smile and open friendliness. When he’d presented her with her first week’s pay, he thought for one minute she would kiss him. With sparkling eyes, she’d told him she would go to the bank first thing the next morning, and open her very own bank account in her name. Something she’d never had before.
He listened to Sylvia refuse at least three marriage proposals a night, and when Jack Keagen offered her employment at the Lucky Lady, Eli escorted the saloon owner from The Golden Buck, with Jack holding a wet cloth to his bloody nose.
Eli couldn’t concentrate on anything. Thank heaven he’d hired good business managers, because every time he tried to add numbers or go over invoices, Sylvia’s face floated in front of his eyes. Her smile, her sway, the scent of her perfume; something fruity and feminine. His stomach clenched every time a customer reached out and touched her hand. He woke in the middle of the night in a sweat, with dreams of someone stealing her away from him.
Once he’d flipped the “closed” sign on the door, he relaxed for the first time all day. The minutes they spent together, talking quietly and sipping tea, became the highlight of his day.
“Am I really doing a good job?” Sylvia studied him over the rim of her teacup.
If she did any better, he’d have to hire someone to teach him boxing. “You’re doing great. You see for yourself how we run out of food almost every night. The Golden Buck has always done a good business, but it has increased tenfold since you arrived.” He caressed her hand. Soft, delicate, and slender. Visions of her running those hands over his back while he made love to her caused his pants to tighten.
Eli had finally admitted it to himself. He had fallen madly in love. Marriage to Lucy’s mother, Josephine, had been arranged between him and her father, once the older man had been assured of Eli’s success as a businessman. Although he’d never visited other women during his marriage, his wife had never engaged his heart, and except for Lucy, he sometimes completely forgot about the marriage.
Sylvia is certainly not someone I’d forget. And if she accepts my marriage proposal, I’ll have her every day of my life.
Once again, Lucy spent weeks browbeating the staff into creating the perfect Christmas Party. She ordered them about, flew into a rage at any tiny flaw, and generally made everyone miserable. Now that the evening had arrived, her nerves were strung as tight as a violin.
She slammed the door to her bedroom, and eyed her maid. “Get out.”
The woman scurried around her mistress and left the room, head down. Lucy marched over to the large cherry wood dresser and pulled out a nearly empty bottle of brandy. Not bothering with a glass, she drank directly from the bottle.
Dimwitted, all of them. Couldn’t anyone do something right without her hovering over them? She glanced in the mirror. The stress showed on her face. She peered closer. Were those lines at the edge of her eyes? Damn these people. No one cared that this party meant everything to her.
Once Nate discovered his wife came from a family of thieves, he would set her aside and she’d have him all to herself. He would see tonight what a gracious hostess she’d be for all the parties they’d hold when they married.
The thought relaxed her features, and after draining the bottle, she took a gulp of lavender water, swished it around her mouth and spat it into a bowl. Taking a steadying breath, she left the room to do battle once more with the senseless staff.
Her father stood at the front door, giving instructions to the footmen. His hand reached out and grabbed her as she sailed by. “Lucy, I’ll be picking up Mrs. Hardwick shortly, and I want her to receive with us.”
Lucy’s mouth dropped. Warmth rose to her face. “I will not have that woman in the receiving line at my party!”
Eli drew himself up to his full five foot seven height. “You need to remember, young lady, this is my house, and if I say Mrs. Hardwick will receive with us, then receive with us she will.” He stabbed the air with his unlit cigar.
“She’s not a member of the family!” Lucy stomped her foot.
“And that may change, missy. Go about your business and don’t have anything else to say about it.”
He strode into the library, leaving her glaring at his retreating back. She couldn’t believe her papa said Mrs. Hardwick may become a member of the family. A thief! He’d never shown interest in any woman in all the years she could remember. And now he’d decided to become serious with, of all people, Angel’s stepmother? The woman wanted by the New York City Police Department?
She sniffed. That would remain her secret. Once she held the investigator’s report in her hand, she’d relish showing her papa what a poor choice he’d made. Hopefully, the police would lock both women up.
But she had more important things on her mind.
Even though she spotted plenty of things wrong, the decorations in the ballroom would have to do. As long as mistletoe hung from every doorway, the party would be a success. Still annoyed at her father, she left the ballroom and headed to the stairs. Where is that nitwit maid?
“Bella!” she screeched.
“Yes, miss.” She stood at the top of the stairs, wringing her hands.
“My guests will be arriving in a couple of hours, and I hope you have my bath ready and clothes set out.”
“Yes miss, it’s all ready.”
Lucy stomped up the stairs, grumbling the whole time at the foolishness of old men.
Eli parked his buggy in front of the Hale house, then mounting the steps, tugged at his collar, and smoothed what bit of hair he had left. He knocked, and wiped sweaty palms down the front of his trousers.
A young boy opened the door. “Hello. I’m John Hale, who are you?”
“I’m Mr. Eli Benson, young man, and I have come to see Mrs. Hardwick.”
“Oh, you mean Angel’s mama?”
“Yes, that’s who I mean. May I come in?”
“Papa, can the man who came to see Angel’s mama come in?” John shouted from the door.
Nate strode to the door, holding a little girl in his arms.
“Yes, John, please let him in.”
Shifting the baby to his other arm, Nate shook hands with the older man. “Sorry about that. I’m afraid our doorman is somewhat cautious.” He chuckled.
“That’s all right. It’s good to be cautious.”
Nate gestured toward the parlor. “Please, have a seat, Mr. Benson. I’ll have Angel see if Sylvia is ready.”
“No Mr. Benson, please. That was my father. Call me Eli.” He settled in a comfortable, if somewhat worn, chair in front of the fireplace.
His gaze roamed the room. This house had been prepared for a Christmas with children. An evergreen tree sat in a corner, decorated with paper angels and snowmen. A small wooden nativity set held the place of honor on the mantle over the fireplace, where five stockings hung. The excited chatter of children resonated from the back of the house, where it seemed they were enjoying a snack before bed.
“Are you Angel’s mama’s boss?” A small boy, who looked exactly like the one who answered the door, but dressed differently, stood alongside his brother.
“Yes, I am.”
“She
likes working.” Serious eyes met his, as the boys joined hands.
Eli smiled. “I’m very glad to hear that. I’m Mr. Benson. Who are you?”
“I’m Luke Hale.” The child held out his hand.
Eli’s smile grew wider as he placed his large hand over the small one. “I’m very glad to meet you, Luke. I’ll bet this is your twin brother.”
The boy’s eyes grew wide. “Yes, how do you know that?”
Angel came into the room, extending her hand to Eli. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Benson.” She turned to the boys. “Go wash and get into your nightclothes. Your papa’s about to read A Visit From St. Nicholas.”
The boys walked backward as they left the room, staring at Eli the whole time. Eli chuckled, and wondered about life in a house as undersized as this with all these children. He shook his head in amazement. Nate and Angel certainly had their hands full.
His gaze shifted again to the mantle. “That’s a lovely nativity scene you have there. Did Nate carve it?”
Angel shook her head. “No, actually that belonged to my father. I couldn’t bear to leave it, when I left New York. His father, a carpenter, whittled it. It’s over fifty years old.” She reached for one miniscule piece and smiled. Then she turned to him. “I’ll see if Sylvia is about ready.”
After Angel left the room, he settled back in the chair, attempting to calm his thumping heart.
Several minutes later, Sylvia entered the parlor, and Eli’s insides twisted. Her red satin dress fit her like a glove. The low neckline revealed two perfect, creamy white mounds, enough to tantalize without being scandalous. The fitted bodice ended at her small waist, flaring out enough to suggest the soft swell of her hips. Eli remembered Sylvia had mentioned she’d sold all her jewelry to pay for a ticket to come to Oregon. If things proceeded the way he hoped, he would enjoy draping her in diamonds and gold.
He rose and, going to her, took her hand and kissed it softly. “You are absolutely beautiful, Sylvia.”
She flushed at his words, and gave a slight curtsy. “Thank you, kind sir.”
Angel stood behind Sylvia, carrying her coat. Eli took it from her, and helped Sylvia into it, resting his hands on her shoulders while she fastened it. Angel smiled at the both of them, and then glanced at Nate who stood in the doorway, a twinkle in his eye.
“I certainly hope we’ll see you both tonight.” Eli took Sylvia’s arm and tucked it into his.
“We’ll be there,” Angel said. “I love the idea of a Christmas party. We have to get all the children into bed first. Mrs. Darby will be over to stay with them.”
“Well, then, we’ll see you later.” He nodded and opened the door for Sylvia.
After helping her into the buggy, he hurried to the other side and climbed in on shaky legs. He planned to propose marriage, and he was a nervous wreck.
Chapter 17
A few blocks before his house, Eli halted the horses, and setting the brake, turned toward Sylvia.
“Why are we stopping?” Sylvia glanced at him, eyebrows raised.
Despite the definite chill in the air, Eli wiped sweat from his forehead, and swallowed a few times.
“Is something wrong?”
He took her hands in his, and cleared his throat. “Sylvia, you know I admire you a great deal.”
She smiled. “And I admire you, Eli.”
He pulled her a little closer. “I’ve been alone for many years. My wife died right after my daughter’s birth. I got busy building my businesses and making money, not realizing how much I missed in life. Until recently.”
Sylvia continued to regard him with a slight smile of inquiry.
“What I’m trying to say in the worse possible way . . .” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Stiff fingers fumbled with the lid. The gold ring, with its rubies and emerald stones, sparkled in the moonlight streaming through the buggy window. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Sylvia sat like a statute, staring at the ring, her mouth slightly open, eyes wide.
“Please, Sylvia.” Eli’s voice shook. “Say something.”
Sylvia ran her tongue around her lips. “This is a surprise.”
He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart. “A good surprise, or a bad one?”
Sylvia raised her eyes and met his. “For the first time in my life, I’m earning my own way. Oh, I know I live in my stepdaughter’s house, but I have a position. I get paid a salary every week, my own money, something I’d never had before.”
“Sweetheart, say yes and I’ll give you all the money you want.”
She straightened her shoulders. “No, you don’t understand. I don’t want someone to give me money. I’ve had that all my life. I like working, and knowing I earned the money that sits in the bank in my name.”
“You can keep your job,” he said quickly.
“But will you still pay me my own money?”
“Yes, in fact I’ll give you a raise.”
Sylvia sighed. “I don’t want a raise. I merely want to continue to work at the restaurant, and receive my regular pay.”
Her features grew serious, and she took Eli’s hand. “I don’t think you can possibly know how much employment means to me. I feel like a grown-up person for the first time in my life. I’ve always had someone hand me money. I never minded it, or even thought about it, until I made my home with Angel and Nate. My stepdaughter has all those children, but she still earns money that she can use for herself. When you handed me my first pay envelope, I almost cried.”
“Let me see if I understand this. If I guarantee your job and your pay—without a raise—will you marry me?” He held his breath.
She smiled as women must have done since the beginning of time, when faced with that question. “Yes, I will marry you, Eli Benson.”
With shaking hands, he removed the ring from the box, and slid it on her finger. Then, ever so gently, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
It took all of his control not to shout, “yippee,” as he released the brake, and slapped the reins. As the buggy started forward, and made its way to the livery, Sylvia raised her hand to the scant moonlight and tilted her head to admire the ring on her finger.
Lucy stood, tapping her foot, arms crossed over her chest as she waited for her father to return with that woman. Almost time for the guests to arrive, and he still hadn’t arrived. What in heaven’s name took so long?
The front door opened, and Papa guided a small woman with blonde hair into the large entrance hall. He helped her out of her coat, and handed it to the servant stationed at the door for the evening.
He turned to her, a beaming smile on his face. “I have wonderful news for you, Lucy.”
“What?” she snapped. The woman, obviously the thief from New York, hung onto her papa’s arm as if she couldn’t stand on her own two feet.
Papa frowned slightly. “I would like you to meet Mrs. Sylvia Hardwick.”
Lucy nodded her head in Sylvia’s direction. “Charmed.”
Returning her gaze to her father, she said, “Papa, what took you so long? The guests will arrive any minute.”
Before he could answer, the doorbell chimed. Lucy patted her hair, and smoothed her dress. Mr. and Mrs. Douglas, and their exceedingly plain, unmarried daughter, entered the hall, and greeted them with Christmas wishes.
“How nice to see you, Eli, Lucy,” Mrs. Douglas said. They turned expectantly to the woman standing by Papa, with curiosity.
“Mr. and Mrs. Douglas, I would like to present to you my fiancée, Mrs. Sylvia Hardwick.” Papa said proudly.
Lucy gasped and grabbed the back of the chair next to her. “Your fiancée?”
Dear God, when he said she might become a member of the family, she never
expected it to be so soon. The witch would probably pilfer the silverware when her papa wasn’t looking. She’d have to hide all her jewelry.
“Yes, dear, your father and I just became engaged.” Sylvia raised her hand to display the beautiful ring.
Rage coursed over Lucy in waves. The woman probably can’t wait to quit that stupid job at the restaurant and live off Papa’s money. She took a deep breath as a slow smile split her face.
Not if she’s in jail, she won’t.
Lucy’s jaw ached from grinding her teeth together. This party had turned into a disaster. First, she had to deal with her papa’s surprise engagement. Reeling from that, she didn’t get a chance to catch her breath before other guests began to arrive. Then Papa pushed that woman into the limelight, introducing her to everyone as if she were royalty. No one paid any attention to Lucy.
Nate and Angel arrived about an hour after the party started, probably because of those sniveling little terrors. She’d tried to get close to him for a while, but he never left Angel’s side, or her infuriating stepmother. At this point, Lucy had a raging headache, and wished everyone would leave so she could lock her bedroom door and have a few drinks from her newly replenished brandy bottle.
Angel laughed as Nate spun her around on the dance floor.
He bent his head and whispered in her ear, “I hope you’ve forgotten your undergarments again.”
“Guess.” She smiled.
He pulled her close and growled.
Christmas always being favorite holiday anyway, this year having a husband and children made it all the more special for Angel. As they glided around the dance floor, her eyes focused on Sylvia and Eli, arm in arm and speaking with two other couples. Her stepmother positively glowed tonight. Shaking her head, Angel still couldn’t believe Sylvia was going to marry Eli Benson. No matter what, the woman always landed on her feet.
She fanned herself after leaving Nate, and joined a group of other married women gathered in a circle far enough away from the band to allow for conversation. Nate had gone to ask the Douglas girl to dance. How kind of her husband to seek out the young ladies who most likely would never make it to the dance floor if he hadn’t asked. She truly did owe Sylvia a big ‘thank you’ for sending her to him.
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