After glancing in the mirror, she dipped the corner of the towel into the cold water remaining in the pitcher and blotted at her puffy eyelids. She used the last of the water to rinse away the dried tears streaking her cheeks. When she felt presentable, she ventured down to where Betsy and Sylvia waited.
“Good morning,” she greeted each one as she entered the room.
Betsy dispensed with the pleasantries. “Sit down.” She motioned to an empty chair directly across from her at the small, round table.
Sylvia looked appropriately attired in a light blue muslin gown, but Betsy looked like she’d just crawled out of bed. Her purple dressing gown gaped open, exposing a wrinkled nightgown. A white nightcap covered her hair, but unruly black strands peeked out from the edges. She had apparently failed to remove the face rouge before retiring last night. Smears of red stained her lips. Black charcoal marks smudged the skin around her eyes.
“Coffee?” Sylvia didn’t wait for a reply. She poured the dark, steaming liquid into an elaborately painted china cup and scooted it across the table. “Are you all right, Julia? You look flushed.”
“It’s warm outside. I must have walked too briskly,” she said as an excuse before attempting to change the subject. “Haven’t you been sleeping well, Sylvia? This is the second time this week you’ve been here so early.”
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t sleep well. I had a rather disturbing conversation after you left—”
“Enough,” Betsy ordered.
While Julia stirred sugar into her coffee, she tried to steel herself. She could tell from Betsy’s demeanor that an ugly mood hovered beneath her exterior. The day was too early for the woman to adequately disguise her impatience with feigned politeness, or a forced smile.
“I understand you enjoyed yourself quite a bit at the party last night. Is that correct?” Betsy asked.
“Yes, it was a lovely party. The musicians played well, and the food was quite tasty.”
“I gathered you liked the music. You danced with several different gentlemen.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted me to do? You instructed me to dance with all your friends and anyone you introduced me to so I wouldn’t appear rude.”
“I know what I instructed,” she said in a harsh voice, but her tone quickly softened. “I noticed you also danced with a few men I had not introduced you to.”
“Some of them were quite persistent, so I consented, although I made each of them promise not to annoy me for a second dance.”
“She’s right. Several men hovered around her despite that matronly gown she wore.”
“You know, Miss Anderson, you could have a great deal of men willing to grant your every request if you’d just use your…ah…talent, a little more.”
“I don’t know what kind of talent I could use,” she said, despite knowing exactly what she meant. “But there are so many men pestering me now that I really don’t want any more. They can be such a bother sometimes.”
She took a sip of coffee, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Sylvia and Betsy exchange disgusted looks.
“That’s because you’re not using the gentlemen properly. Most of those men would eagerly give you anything you asked for.”
“But I don’t want anything from them.”
“Well, I do.”
Julia almost told her to use her own talents to get what she wanted, but she bit on her lower lip to keep from blurting it out.
“Julia,” Sylvia said, interrupting the tenseness of the moment. “If you don’t learn how to use men properly, they will end up using you.”
She had no intention in being used by any man, but she gave a demure reply. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Exactly my point,” Betsy said. “You’re so naïve about men that one of them could easily take advantage of you before you even knew it. That’s why it’s important to follow my instructions.”
“You mean like dancing with your friends?”
Her lips curled into an angry snarl. “You’ll do more than dance with them before I’m through with you.”
“What Betsy means,” Sylvia said hastily, “is you need to do more than just dance with the gentlemen. You should be attentive to them, ask questions, and show an interest in what they are saying, just to be polite.”
“I do try to be polite, but frankly, I’m not interested in anything about them.”
“One of them seemed to pique you interest in something more than dancing,” Sylvia said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the captain.” She stared at Julia over the rim of her coffee cup. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten him already.”
Her body went rigid. She thanked her good fortune she didn’t have coffee in her mouth, or she might have choked on it. Seeing Payton last night had slipped her mind because of the horrible fight they’d just had. “Oh, him.”
“Yes, him,” Sylvia said, a sultry murmur in her voice. “Considering the way he held you, I should think you’d remember him for a very long time. I know I certainly would.”
“I’m trying to forget. I wasn’t myself last night. Perhaps it was the champagne. I don’t usually have more than a sip or two.”
“Who is he?” Betsy asked. Her tone sounded like a command.
“I don’t remember,” she lied. “I don’t even recall his name. It must’ve been the champagne. My memory seems fuzzy this morning.”
“Oh, come now,” Sylvia said. “You didn’t have that much to drink.”
“His name is Payton Tyler,” Betsy said, her patience apparently growing thin. “What do you know about him?”
“Nothing.” She realized that by answering too hastily, it appeared she knew more, so she tried to soften her answer. “Nothing more than what Sylvia knows. He introduced himself and asked me to dance.”
“You danced with him twice,” Sylvia said. “That is not your usual manner. In fact, your entire behavior with the captain was most unusual. I don’t believe I have ever seen you allow a man to take liberties with you before.”
Heat gathered in her cheeks. Payton had taken liberties—blatantly so. And she’d allowed him. She was shocked at her behavior.
A week ago, when she’d been alone with Payton, she’d allowed him to kiss her. Last night on the terrace with other people around, she’d allowed him to do more. She’d let him touch her breast—her naked breast. Then he’d licked his tongue over her nipple. Her body shivered as she recalled the details.
“Are you all right?” Sylvia asked.
“No, I’m not.” She couldn’t disguise the tremor in her body, but she would use it to her advantage. “You’re right about my conduct. It was most unbecoming. I should go to church and pray for forgiveness.”
“Sit down,” Betsy said when Julia stood. “You can pray for your soul later. Right now, I want you to tell me what you know about him.”
She hadn’t intended to go to church; she only wanted an excuse to get away. With Betsy’s demanding questions and Sylvia’s prying eyes, she couldn’t withstand much more of this inquisition. She returned to the chair and picked up her cup. As she took a long drink of coffee, she tried to think of a good response to satisfy their curiosity.
“I recall his name now that you mentioned it, but I don’t remember anything else. We didn’t talk all that much as Sylvia can tell you. I don’t know why I allowed him a second dance. There was just something about the way he looked.”
“There certainly was. He was tall with dark hair and broad shoulders.”
“Perhaps it was his size.” She took her cue from Sylvia and rambled on with a made-up explanation. “He seemed so strong and powerful. He swept me up into another dance and out the door before I could protest. When we reached the terrace, I became frightened and insisted he take me back inside.”
Sylvia scrunched up her face into an expression of disbelief. “You didn’t seem afraid when I found the two of you locked in a passionate embrace.”
The heat in
her cheeks intensified with genuine embarrassment, but she didn’t try to hide the emotion. She could use it to her advantage. “I already told you my behavior was most unbecoming. I can’t explain why. It was his eyes, I think. Yes, his eyes. I was mesmerized by the way he looked at me.”
“It appeared as though you had a similar effect on him. He seemed quite enamored of you.”
“Was he? I didn’t notice.”
“If you knew where to look, you would have seen for yourself. It was quite obvious.”
Julia wasn’t certain what Sylvia meant, but she tired of the conversation. “It doesn’t matter because I don’t plan to see him again.”
“Yes, you will,” Betsy said.
“But I won’t. I have no intention of seeing him again. Not ever.”
“I said you will,” Betsy insisted. “And very soon. Otherwise, I may have to resort to a more unpleasant means of getting information from him.”
“What do you mean?” She tried to keep the alarm from her voice. Betsy’s words sounded like a thinly veiled threat toward Payton’s life. She had little doubt her unpleasant nature could turn deadly if she didn’t get what she wanted.
“Never mind.” Betsy looked at Sylvia. “Give her the writing paper.”
Sylvia complied. She also slid a bottle of ink and a pen closer to Julia.
“Pick up the pen,” Betsy said. “I want you to extend an invitation to the captain to meet you at the theatre tonight.”
When she hesitated, Betsy leaned back in her chair. Her manner took on a friendlier expression. “You enjoy working for me, don’t you, Miss Anderson?”
Experience had taught her Betsy was at her most devious when she appeared calm. Julia stayed on her guard not to blurt out anything without careful thought.
She looked down at the writing paper so her expression wouldn’t give away her true feelings when she lied. “Of course I enjoy working for you.”
“And don’t I pay you well?”
“Very well, Mrs. Collins.”
“Besides your pay, don’t I give you opportunities that would not normally be available to a young woman of your station? I allow you to accompany me to parties that are way above your social status. You dress in beautiful gowns I provide. Because of me, you’ve met many rich and powerful men. Judges, senators, even the governor.”
“I didn’t actually meet the governor,” she corrected. “He was in another room, and I—”
“Enough!” Betsy sat upright in the chair and slammed her fist on the table. “You could have met him if you would’ve walked into the other room.” She leaned back in the chair again. Her anger seemed to subside. “You’re missing the point. I’ve made all these advantages available to you just out of the kindness of my heart. I’ve never asked anything from you until now.”
Julia doubted she had a heart, but she didn’t bother mentioning it. One thing of which she felt certain: Whatever Betsy did, it had nothing to do with kindness.
“All I’m asking is for you to meet with the captain. Ask him a few questions, listen to him politely, and report back to me anything he says. Sylvia will go with you as a chaperone if you wish.”
Julia wondered why Payton’s arrival in Sacramento put Betsy into such a highly agitated state. If Sylvia hadn’t witnessed them kissing last night, his presence probably would’ve gone unnoticed.
Guilt tugged at her conscious. If she would’ve controlled her desire for Payton last night, Sylvia might not have given him a second thought. Betsy would be ignorant that he had been at the party, and her veiled threat toward him would never have been uttered.
She didn’t understand why both women were so alarmed with his appearance, but whatever the reason, she decided to go along with what Betsy wanted so Payton wouldn’t come to any harm. “What would you like me to ask him?”
“I want you to find out why he’s in Sacramento. And I want you to learn exactly who it is he’s looking for.”
Her hand went to her mouth to muffle her gasp. Payton had come to Sacramento to find her. She was the one he sought!
How could she ask him that in front of Sylvia? If he blurted out the reason, if he divulged that she’d been in San Francisco and had been with Wilber Hennigan when he shot himself...
She wiped her hand over her face to remove the cold sweat popping out of her pores. If Betsy learned the truth, at the very least, she’d be dismissed immediately. Then she’d lose any future communication about Lawrence Dunbar’s whereabouts. Fortunately, Betsy didn’t seem to notice the sweat on Julia’s forehead, nor the trembling of her hand. Her attention had turned to Sylvia.
“Select her something appropriate to wear. Perhaps that blue gown. You know the one I mean. It’s cut down to here in the front.” She motioned with her hand the severity of the exposure.
Her heart skipped a beat. Betsy referred to the sapphire-blue gown. If Payton saw her dressed in that, it would likely dredge up all his questions about what happened that night in San Francisco. Then he might be the one demanding answers.
Before she could protest, however, Sylvia unwittingly came to her rescue.
“I think something less revealing would better serve our purpose. The captain mentioned something about enjoying a good chase. If we show all her attributes at once, he may become bored.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” Something akin to an evil smirk spread over Betsy’s face. “We wouldn’t want the captain getting bored too easily with our little Julia.”
Chapter Ten
Julia peered over the balcony at the crowd seated below. The play wouldn’t start for several more minutes, so she needed the distraction. Sylvia and Payton sat on either side of her in the upper section of the theater. By ignoring them both, she hoped she wouldn’t have to ask any questions.
“Julia darling, do sit back.” Sylvia touched her with her closed fan. “I can’t talk with your head in the way.”
Complying with the request, she leaned back against the red velvet cushions of the chair and busied herself by smoothing tiny wrinkles from the skirt of her lime green gown. When she’d accomplished that task, she fussed with her hair. The maid had twisted the sides back from her face and tied it with ribbons matching her gown. The rest of her hair hung down her back and over one shoulder.
Sylvia peered around Julia. She leaned forward so her breasts jutted out of the bodice of her light pink gown. “As I was saying, Captain Tyler, it was very kind of you to meet us tonight. I realize it was short notice, but Julia insisted on seeing you again. We’re so glad you were available.”
“I was more than happy to drop my other plans. For some reason, I didn’t think I’d ever see Miss Anderson again. I was thrilled with the opportunity of meeting with her once more.”
Julia believed his sincerity, but she wished he wouldn’t appear so eager. To Sylvia it demonstrated a weakness in a man she could manipulate.
Now Sylvia and Betsy had involved her in using that same weakness in an attempt to obtain information from Payton. She tried to think how she could warn him to be on his guard, but Sylvia watched her too closely.
If she slipped up in any way, everything would be reported to Betsy. Then they may resort to a more unpleasant method, as alluded to earlier, in order to extract information from Payton.
“Of course she wanted to see you again. Last night, you made a lasting impression on her. Isn’t that right, Julia?” Sylvia poked her in the ribs with her fan, prompting her to speak.
She glanced around at the other people in the balcony. This was supposed to be a private box, but no partitions separated one area from the other. There were merely individual chairs arraigned in groups to give the illusion of privacy. Silently, she wished for a more secluded setting. She hated the idea of making a fool of herself in front of witnesses.
She took a steadying breath while trying to remember the instructions Betsy and Sylvia had given her. She placed her hand on the sleeve of his black evening jacket and battered her eyelashes in a dramatic fashion, maki
ng certain Sylvia saw her actions, but she doubted Payton would succumb to such an obvious ploy.
Stroking the ego of Wilber Hennigan to get him to divulge information had been an easy task, but he’d been weak and insecure. Payton struck her as a strong, confident man. Fawning over him wouldn’t render him malleable in her hands. He wouldn’t surrender his secrets as easily—at least she hoped he wouldn’t.
“Yes, I did want to see you again. You’re such an intriguing man that I wanted to learn more about you.”
He glanced at her hand that rested on his arm. His gaze wandered to her face. A change came over him that caused the brilliance in his blue eyes to diminish.
“You flatter me, Miss Anderson. But I’m afraid I’m nothing more than an ordinary sea captain.”
Sylvia tapped him on the arm with her fan. “That is what makes you so interesting. You are a sea captain, but you’re such a long way from the sea.”
“If you think Sacramento is inland that far, you need a lesson in geography, Mrs. Moron. Several ships are docked just a few blocks from here.”
Sylvia’s back stiffened. “It’s Morgan.”
Julia stifled a nervous giggle, for it sounded as though Payton had called Sylvia a moron. She put her hand to her mouth to hide any sign of amusement appearing on her lips.
“Ow!” She flinched when Sylvia jabbed her in the ribcage with the blunt end of her fan, but she tried not to let her anger show.
Sylvia didn’t bother to hide her irritation. With a nod of her head, she motioned toward Payton. She jabbed her again, but not quite as hard.
He’d have to be blind not to see what had transpired. She hoped he’d figure it out soon. “I realize we’re less than a hundred miles from the bay, but you have to admit Sacramento isn’t a seaport. It’s only natural to be curious about such things.”
“Are you also interested as to why I’m in Sacramento?”
His lips curved into a smile, but she didn’t find anything amusing in his expression. At the moment he looked very dangerous. “I wouldn’t want to pry into your personal business.”
She flinched when Sylvia jabbed her again. “Of course if you’d like to share that information, we’d enjoy listening to your story.”
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