A Matter of Marriage

by Ann Collins

  “He’ll be glad to hear it.” She lifted the silver coffee pot. “Coffee?”

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  As she poured him a steaming, fragrant cup, she noticed his gaze roaming over the china platters kept warm by silver covers. There was also a linen-lined silver basket filled with toast and breakfast rolls, as well as a pitcher of orange juice—everything her kitchen staff had thoughtfully provided for a hungry couple the morning after their wedding night.

  He lifted one of the silver covers, revealing crisp bacon slices and scrambled eggs. “Mmm. Smells good. I don’t suppose you cooked this up yourself this morning.”

  “No, it’s all courtesy of my breakfast chef and his staff.”

  “You didn’t go down there alone, I hope.”

  She heard the concern in his voice and liked it. “No, I promise you I am taking the threat against my life seriously. I used the annunciator. One of the waiters responded, and when he came to the door, I ordered breakfast. He returned with a lot more than I asked for.”

  “Nice of him. And them. I’m starved.” He served himself a generous helping of everything, took a bite of roll, and glanced at the apartment’s small, but serviceable, kitchen. “Do you cook?”

  “I know how. When I was growing up, I often spent time in the hotel kitchen, first in Philadelphia and then here, watching and learning from the chefs.” She picked up her glass of orange juice and took a sip. “I don’t usually bother, though. If I don’t eat in the Crown Room, I have the chef prepare something that can be delivered to my office. Or here.”

  “It’s a good arrangement. Elizabeth and I had a cook by necessity. I would’ve wasted away otherwise. My wife, uh, first wife, couldn’t boil an egg and didn’t care to learn. In the five years we were married, I don’t think she entered the kitchen more than a handful of times.”

  “What was she like, if you don’t mind my asking?” She was grateful for the opening Alex had given her. She wanted to know more about his past and was curious about her predecessor.

  His eating slowed. “She was beautiful, with dark hair and big brown eyes, but she was also spoiled, the only child of an old, powerful, and rich Baltimore family.” He put down his fork and took a sip of coffee. “When she set her sights on me, I was ‘over the moon,’ as they say. She had poise, beauty, breeding, and connections. I’d grown up poor in an insignificant little town and was only just starting to make my name as an architect. One of my buildings had won an award. Elizabeth was at the ceremony, and we were introduced.” He shook his head, and he wasn’t smiling.

  “What?”

  He picked up a slice of bacon and ate half. “It seems so long ago now.” He finished the rest of the slice. “I was young and foolish, and she bewitched me with her looks and background and consuming interest in me. I fell in love. I thought everything would be perfect. We’d be together, and her parents—the Ellingsons—would praise my architectural accomplishments and services to their well-to-do friends.” A faraway look came into his eyes.

  Julia wondered what he was seeing. “What happened?” she quietly asked.

  His gaze came back to her. “Nothing turned out the way I expected. Elizabeth accepted my marriage proposal, but her parents disapproved of me. I was a nobody to them, and always would be. They tried to keep us from marrying. Even offered me money.” He laughed, the sound hollow. “Funny, isn’t it? You offered me money to marry you. They offered me money to walk away.”

  She winced. No wonder he had adamantly refused her monetary offer. “You obviously didn’t take their money.”

  “No, and they couldn’t talk Elizabeth out of the marriage either. What I didn’t know then was that she had set her mind on having me, as if I were a doll or puppy that she wanted but was being denied. Eventually, as always, she got her way. I didn’t know how until about a year after we were married, when I experienced for myself what turned out to be legendary amongst the servants in her parents’ home. She threw a tantrum, shouting and screaming and throwing things around the room.” He stared at a crumb on the white tablecloth.

  Julia carefully folded her napkin and laid it on the table. “That must’ve been a nasty shock to you.”

  “I was more disillusioned than anything. And I was disappointed in myself for not seeing her character clearly.” He drank down his entire glass of orange juice. “You and I, after less than two days, are more compatible than Elizabeth and I ever were.” He picked up his fork and slowly finished the last few bites of egg.

  She had to admit they were getting along well. Maybe their marriage could work. Julia didn’t want to think what might have happened if he had not agreed to marry her when he did. He deserved more from her than just her thanks.

  “Did Elizabeth want children?” she asked.

  He pushed his plate away, a mask seeming to slide over his features. “What are your plans for the day?”

  His sudden change of subject took her aback. Had he said enough about his first wife? Or did he prefer to avoid the subject of children and the family he had hoped to have? Feeling guilty about denying him what he wanted, Julia avoided the subject, too. “I intend to catch up with my paperwork and do my rounds. What about you?”

  “I’ll take you on your rounds, then do some investigating. I want to find out if Tyler Wolff is in the area. If he is, then we can assume he’s still interested in acquiring the hotel and is therefore a suspect.”

  She got up as well. “You’ll need to go to San Diego then. He’s staying at the Heritage Hotel, or he was, at any rate.”

  “I’ll try there first.”

  “While you’re in San Diego, I’d like it if you could stop into Marston’s Department Store and purchase some new clothes, both for your job as carpenter and for evenings in the hotel. You can charge everything to my account.”

  “No. I’ll buy what I need after I’ve worked some.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her fingers against one elbow. “Alex, you know I have a reputation to uphold. If you plan to stay here as my husband, you must be presentable. You’re welcome to leave if you object.”

  “Nice try, but I’m not going anywhere. You might as well bury whatever hopes you harbor on that point.”

  She sighed. It had been worth a try, half-hearted though it was. “Then you’ll go shopping?”

  “I’ll get enough of what’s needed so I won’t shame you. You can take the costs out of my future wages. I don’t want your money.”

  “It’s not charity, Alex. You’re my husband.”

  “I’ll earn my own way, same as you’re earning yours by managing the hotel. I assume you can understand that.”

  “Yes, I understand.” After teetering on the brink of destitution, she understood very well.

  “Elizabeth couldn’t,” he said, his tone one of resigned acceptance. “She had no concept of the value of money or work. She spent and spent, with no regard for the amount I was earning. When I complained, she said she’d ask her daddy for help, even though she knew I didn’t want a single penny from him.”

  Julia dropped her arms to her sides. She had married a proud man, and the more she learned about him, the more she found to like about him. “I’ll keep an accounting of your purchases and deduct the costs from your earnings. Will that suit you?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Good.” She strode to the annunciator and pressed it. “A waiter will be here in a few minutes to clear away the dishes. After that, I’d like to do my rounds.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  As would she. For two nights in a row, she had neglected the hotel. Everything needed checking on, but she also welcomed the opportunity to spend more time in Alex’s company, maybe even to feel again what she had felt last night on the threshold of his room.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Alex accompanied Julia downstairs. He told himself he was not a coward for veering away from telling her more about his life in Baltimore. She had a right to know, but th
e losses and humiliation he had suffered were buried deep within himself. Bringing them out into the light would be heaping one painful episode onto another, like a cascade of water hitting rock after rock on its way to the pool at the bottom, where he’d be pushed under. Not only that, his past might act like a poison, tainting his hopes for a future filled with love and maybe even family.

  Walking with Julia, Alex concentrated on her and the present. He wished he were back in bed and that she were beside him. Waiting until she wanted him as much as he wanted her was going to try his patience and fortitude. Maybe he could nudge her toward a quicker decision in his favor. He smiled to himself. During Julia’s rounds, he would get to explore the hotel and study its architecture, as well as search out the best spots for a man and woman wanting a little privacy. If he found a spot with promise, he believed he could entice Julia into taking advantage of it.

  They crossed the Rotunda, and she immediately went to speak with the weasel at the registration desk about the number of guests due to leave and arrive. Alex stood close enough to listen to their discussion and intimidate Chalmers if the clerk showed her any disrespect.

  The man, Adam’s apple bobbing, glanced over at him several times and stayed on his best behavior.

  “Thank you, Mr. Chalmers,” she said. “I’ll check with you again later.”

  “Yes, Miss Fair—” His gaze shot to Alex. “I mean, Mrs. MacLean.”

  Alex winked at him, took Julia’s elbow, and led her away. “Where to next?”

  “The laundry.”

  On their way out the front door, Theo was coming in, pushing an expensive leather trunk on his cart. He tipped his pillbox hat to them. “Morning, Mr. MacLean, Mrs. MacLean.”

  Julia greeted him with a self-conscious smile.

  Alex leaned down to the bellboy and lowered his voice. “Any news for us?”

  Theo pushed his spectacles higher and glanced around the lobby. “Not much, I’m afraid. Mrs. Reynolds spread the news about her near fall after stepping on a rotted stair. No one has said anything about it being sabotaged, so whoever did it is keeping quiet.”

  “As will we,” Julia said.

  “Anything else?” Alex asked.

  “Well, the biggest news, of course, is your wedding. Everyone is talking about”—he pulled his head into his shoulders like a turtle—“the kiss.”

  She grimaced, color flowing into her fair face. “I’ll never live that down.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” Alex said. “It was a great kiss, which is why everyone is gossiping about it.”

  A short laugh, quickly covered up, escaped from Theo’s mouth. At Julia’s pointed look, he cleared his throat. “Sorry. There is one more thing you should know. Marshal Landis has been wandering around the grounds asking a lot of questions. Mostly about you, Mr. MacLean.”

  Alex glowered. The man’s jealous preoccupation could endanger Julia. “He’s wasting his time, time that should be spent searching for Julia’s assailant.” He shoved a hand into his pants pocket. “Theo, later on, I’m going over to San Diego. I’d appreciate it if you could check on my wife every so often while I’m gone.”

  “Happy to do it. But now, I’d better be off.” He tapped his cart. “Mrs. Trouville in three-sixteen is waiting for her trunk.”

  They let him go and headed outside, across the carriage drive and lawn, toward the red brick smokestack rising above the hotel’s engine house and laundry.

  Alex, eyeing their surroundings and anyone that looked suspicious, put his arm around Julia’s waist.

  She instantly halted on a patch of the freshly cut lawn. Her eyes were narrowed, but not from the sunlight shining into their blue depths. “What are you doing?”

  “Showing whoever might be watching that you are under my protection.” It was one of his reasons anyway.

  “Just walking with me in public will accomplish that, so you can take your arm away.”

  “Is it so unpleasant to have my arm around you?” He stroked her side with his fingers, feeling her shirtwaist and corset and wishing neither was there.

  Her chest rose suddenly, and she released a shaky breath. “Let’s go. I have work to do.” She started walking again, faster this time, but she didn’t push his hand away.

  Alex kept his expression bland, but inside, he was smiling. Perhaps tonight would be the night.

  Outside the laundry’s door, she said, “This shouldn’t take long. I just need to converse with the head laundress and find out if there are any problems.”

  “I’m in no hurry, and I’ll be coming inside with you.”

  “I seriously doubt I’ll be in any danger here, but, since I am ‘under your protection,’ I will accept your presence.”

  “Madam, you have no choice but to accept it.” He pushed open the door for her and followed her rigid back and stiff neck inside.

  Five women, their sleeves rolled to their elbows and their brows damp from the steamy heat, worked amongst mounds of table linens, towels, and sheets.

  “Hello, Mrs. Benedict,” Julia said over the noise of machines filled with water, suds, and soiled laundry.

  The woman whom Alex assumed was the head laundress turned, her hand lifting frizzy brown hair off her moist forehead. A wide grin broke out across her plump face. “Hello to you, Mrs. MacLean. That’s a right-sounding name, if I do say so myself. And this must be Mr. MacLean. Congratulations, sir. Congratulations to the both of you.” She did not seem at all put off by his scar. Perhaps she’d been warned about it.

  “Thank you,” Julia said, her smile appearing brittle to him.

  “Good to meet you.” He shook Mrs. Benedict’s hand. “Today I’m getting an insider’s tour of my new home.”

  “It’s a grand place to call home.” The older woman waved her chapped hands. “I’m sorry not to have seen your ceremony last night, but I didn’t feel it’d be right for a group of laundresses to show ourselves inside the hotel. All us girls heard it was real nice though. Especially the end part, if it’s not too forward of me to say.” She glanced meaningfully between him and Julia.

  Alex chuckled. “Mrs. Benedict, I’ll be honest with you. That was my favorite part of the ceremony. Mrs. MacLean’s too, though you won’t catch her saying so.”

  The laundress laughed outright, and giggles emanated from the women folding the linens. One woman, her arms as thick as small tree trunks, heaved a clean load of dry sheets out of a machine and into a large basket.

  Julia fanned her face. “Mrs. Benedict, you would have been welcome at the ceremony. All the girls would have been. Please forgive me for not extending a personal invitation.”

  “Ah, you’re most kind, Mrs. MacLean.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “But you’re not here to discuss your wedding. I have good news for you today. Everything’s in order. No broken-down machines. Just a mountain of laundry to get done.”

  “So I see, but I know you’ll manage, as always. We’ll let you get back to work. Good day.” She strode to the door, opening it herself before Alex could open it for her.

  He waved back at the ladies and followed her out to the sound of giggles and chatter behind him. “Nice group of women,” he said, taking up his position beside her, though he didn’t touch her this time. “Even though you’re in charge, they’re comfortable with you. I don’t think we have to worry about any danger coming from that quarter.”

  “I feel terrible that they excluded themselves from attending the wedding.”

  “You’re a good person, Julia Fairbanks MacLean. Elizabeth would have been appalled to have a group of laundresses anywhere near her wedding.”

  “These women are hard workers and deserve respect. I just wish our wedding kiss wasn’t such a big topic of conversation. Hearing about it first from Theo and now from them is terribly embarrassing.”

  “Just grin and bear it,” Alex said, remembering his youth. “That’s what my father used to say.”

  “Easier said than done,” she responded, “but good advice.
I think I would have liked your father.”

  “He would’ve like you. My mother, too.”

  They walked in silence for a minute, Alex wishing his parents had gotten a chance to meet her. Unlike Elizabeth and her parents, Julia would have welcomed his family.

  “Where are we headed now?” he asked.

  “The north side of the park. That’s where the groundskeepers’ shed is.”

  “Lead on.”

  They strolled past the doctor’s cottage to the Paseo del Mar, a concrete walkway overlooking the long, crescent-shaped stretch of beach. A light breeze rippled the ocean and stirred Julia’s hair. The tide was out, and Alex breathed in the pungent, salty smell, enjoying it as several women with parasols shading their faces sauntered past in the other direction. Blue sky touched the horizon, and a lone steamship puffed into the channel to San Diego Harbor. Farther out to sea, a two-masted topsail schooner cruised southward. Square sails and triangular sails reminded him of Baltimore and its famed clipper ships of an earlier decade.

  “Your father chose the perfect setting for his hotel,” Alex said, noticing that the westerly breeze had loosened a lock of Julia’s hair from its pins. Before he could think about it, he tucked the flowing strands behind her ear.

  She froze for an instant, then darted a look at him as she kept walking. “You are taking liberties, Mr. MacLean.”

  “If you don’t like my touch, all you have to do is say so and I’ll stop. I expect you to be honest with me, though.”

  She didn’t answer immediately. “I suppose, if I’m honest about it, I don’t mind it too much. I’m just not accustomed to being touched like that. And certainly not in public.”

  “Then you might as well get used to it. I’m an affectionate man.”

  She licked her lips and stared straight ahead. “What were we discussing? Oh, yes, the hotel’s setting. There wasn’t much here when we started building. Just sand and scrub, rabbits and birds. Bringing in all the materials was a logistical chore unto itself.”

  “I can imagine.” He smiled, looking forward to touching her with more affection. “I’ve worked on similarly difficult projects.”