Mercury's Rise (Silver Rush 04)

by Ann Parker

  Inez risked a final glance at the lonely shape bundled on the coach’s seat, then rose and moved to the door to take Franklin Lewis’ steadying hand. A gangly figure behind Lewis scampered to the boot of the stagecoach. Inez caught a glimpse of a youngster hauling out hatboxes and piling them into a three-wheeled handcart.

  Lights gleamed through lower windows set under a deep porch, backlighting figures within. The upper floor was mostly dark. Here and there muted illumination bled through drawn curtains. Beyond this half-lit façade, all was blackness, although Inez sensed the hotel sat on a saddle in a rise and the hill continued, in some fashion, behind.

  Blessedly cool air caressed her cheek. Inez inhaled as deeply as her sweat-loosened travel corset would allow, and let the sound of the vigorous waterway wash over her. The air seemed heavy compared to Leadville’s thin atmosphere, full of moisture, and redolent with sage and a hint of something sweet and blooming, some kind of rose. The sharp, bracing scent of mint tangled among other scents she could not identify.

  Entranced, temporarily distracted from the sorrows of the trip and complications of her life, Inez lingered a moment longer in the welcome air. The small knot of travelers huddled around the lantern and guided by Lewis, drew further away, ever closer to the hotel proper. Inez fell further behind, seeking a few minutes alone before having to face whatever commotion waited inside. She finally turned from the light toward the invisible river and stood still, listening, wishing the water could simply sweep away all problems with its rushing sound.

  The loud crunch of hasty footsteps on the gravel behind her belatedly reached her awareness. A hand fell heavy on her shoulder with a stern voice saying, “Nurse Crowson! I need you now.”

  Inez’s own hand had flown to her pocket at the instant of the touch. Her new pocket revolver was out, even as she wrenched away and turned. In the confusing light, she looked up.

  Tall as she was, Inez was not used to encountering men whose eyes were a handspan or more above her own. Wrapped in a loose white coat, the thin rail of a man took a hasty step back. Reflected light flashed off oval spectacles and touched a head of wild hair, which looked as if its wearer had faced off a windstorm without the aid of any pomade.

  “Madam, calm yourself! I mistook you for someone else.” Without further ado, the white shadow brushed past her and stalked toward the carriage, a ghost crossing the gravel pathway.

  The knot of travelers had reached the porch and disappeared inside. Lewis was hurrying back in her direction, lantern bobbing. Inez, slipped the pistol back into its hiding place, trying to stop the shaking in her hands.

  “Mrs. Stannert.” He positioned himself at her side. “Please, come with me.” Holding the lantern high, he gestured toward the hotel. Inez risked a final glance back over her shoulder. The white-coated figure knelt by the prone shape that was Mr. Pace, with the coach driver standing nearby. Another involuntary shudder ran through her frame.

  Lewis took her elbow. “I am sorry that you and Miss Carothers were party to this sad event. Forgive me, but you are shaking like a leaf! The shock of the incident, I’m certain. Come, it’s warm inside and I can supply something to calm your nerves.”

  I do hope it is something with a high alcohol content. She allowed him to guide her to the inn.

  One of the hotel staff opened the door for them as they came near. Eyes dazzled by the light, Inez looked around. A wide staircase faced them across the lobby, its long sweep guarded at the top by an impressive bronze statue of Hermes, complete with winged helmet, winged feet, and caduceus. She was willing to bet, although it was too dark to be certain, that the statue also sported the obligatory fig leaf.

  To her left, a reception desk was flanked by twin marble pillars. Behind the desk and above the shadowed letterboxes and key board, the antlered heads of what looked like a veritable herd of elk or deer graced the wall. On the right, the lilt of a string quartet drifted to her from behind a set of closed dark-wood doors.

  The doorman, a young man with slicked-down blond hair and a “face-spanner” mustache with ferociously waxed points that looked lethal in their sharpness, closed the hotel’s front door with a muted click. Lewis asked him in a soft undertone, “Where is Miss Carothers?”

  “In the ladies’ parlor, as you suggested.” The words rolled out in well-schooled syllables that spoke of top-drawer schooling in England. “The fire’s made up, and I am off to prepare the tray.”

  Lewis nodded. “Excellent. Thank you, Mr. Epperley.”

  Epperley bowed to Inez saying, “Madam,” and moved briskly past the music room and staircase, vanishing down a hallway to the right.

  Lewis said, “Mr. Terrance Epperley, my manager. Came to Manitou for the waters at his physician’s orders and decided to stay. Many similar stories here at the springs.”

  He guided her to the left of the staircase, away from the music and the lobby and down a hallway punctuated by gaslights set in sconces at regular intervals. Pausing before a door leaking bright light from underneath, he remarked, “Here we are,” and pushed the door open.

  Susan looked up from a cushion-filled settee. Other chairs and a divan or two dotted the room, set further back from a fireplace that, despite its painted screen, radiated heat. Susan’s travel coat and hat hung on the coat rack by the door. Inez felt beads of sweat popping out along her hairline, the layers of clothes and overgarments suddenly stifling. On top of it all, she had a raging, overwhelming desire for a glass of something that would take the edge off the day’s events.

  Inez unclasped her travel cloak, and allowed Mr. Lewis to slip it from her shoulders. “Mr. Lewis, is there something to drink?”

  “Refreshment is on the way. Epperley is preparing it.”

  Coat off, Inez gazed down at her skirts. A crust of dried vomit and blood blotted the dark wool from knee to floor. She bit back a groan. The skirt, she feared was a lost cause.

  Without her cloak, she felt a coldness penetrate to her bones despite the heat in the room. Shivering, she moved to the fireplace, standing to one side of the screen. A mantle clock ticked loudly into the silence as Lewis took her cloak to the coat rack.

  The door swung open, admitting Epperley with a tray of crystalware and a decanter. He handed Inez a cut-crystal goblet before moving to Susan. Inez took a large gulp, only to have the liquid fizz in her mouth, delivering an overwhelming taste of ash and salts. She swallowed reflexively, and almost gagged. She stared at the glass in disbelief, then looked at the hotelier.

  “What is this?”

  Lewis appeared proud, obviously taking her shocked distaste for admiration. “Mineral water from Manitou’s famous Ute Iron spring. You all have been through an extremely difficult event, and no doubt you find yourself much disturbed in temperament and humors. The carbonic acid and carbonate of soda of the waters here in Manitou are known to have a calming effect, soothe inflammations, and relieve dyspepsia, that is, the imperfect actions of the digestive powers. Certain of the springs also address symptoms of nervous exhaustion and those of a,” he averted his eyes, “delicate nature. ”

  Her stomach did a flip-flop, feeling like it was back on a badly rutted portion of the coach road. She set the goblet down with a decided click on the mantelpiece.

  “Something stronger, Mr. Lewis, if you would,” Inez said tersely.

  “As you wish. Nurse Crowson makes an excellent mint tea, that does wonders for the nerves.”

  “Stronger than tea. If you please.”

  He looked around the room, as if at a loss. “We have some wine.”

  Inez narrowed her eyes. “I was thinking more along the lines of whiskey. Or brandy.”

  Susan froze in mid-sip, crystal glass raised. Lewis’ mouth dropped open. He looked as shocked as if she’d slapped him. No one moved, except for Epperley who set the decanter of spring water on a side table and silently exited the parlor.

  Finally Lewis spoke faintly, “Pardon me? Whiskey?”

  His horrified stare only enraged her. �
��Surely, surely, if you haven’t a decent whiskey in the house, the gentlemen in this fine hotel take an occasional glass of after-dinner brandy with their cigars. That will do nicely. Minus the cigar, of course.”

  Although her gaze was fixed upon Lewis, she caught sight of Susan who was shaking her head in a determined fashion. Inez could almost hear her wordless remonstration: this isn’t Leadville. You are not in your saloon. This is a different place, a different class, with different expectations.

  It all began to close in on her. The present. The past.

  The lingering aftertaste of the mineral water.

  The heaviness of her skirts, soiled with Mr. Pace’s dried blood.

  All that awaited, and all that went before.

  It felt as if someone had yanked on her corset stays, tightening them to the point where she could no longer draw a full breath.

  The sudden tightness gave her an idea. Placing the back of one hand to her forehead, she murmured, “Oh,” and swayed slightly.

  “Mrs. Stannert?” Lewis sounded alarmed. “Are you ill?”

  “Just…faint.”

  Inez very quickly found herself hustled to the settee, pillows plumped around her, Susan’s arm about her shoulders. Lewis hovered before her, a vial of smelling salts hovering below her now stinging nostrils.

  Alarmed that her bit of stagecraft had been so readily accepted, she held up a hand, fending off the salts. “Forgive me, please. The long day, the sudden shock of a warm room.”

  “Madam?” It was Epperley, at her elbow, holding a goblet that, she was relieved to see, held an amber liquid that she knew well.

  Inez accepted the brandy snifter and cradled the bowl between her hands. She swirled the trapped liquid gently to release the dark, smoky aroma and inhaled. Closing her eyes against the anxious faces, she lifted the glass and allowed the first taste to slip between her lips and down her throat. A dark and velvet heat spread down and out to her limbs. She sighed in contentment and release. Upon opening her eyes, she discovered everyone in the room looking at her anxiously, except Epperley, who seemed to be trying to hide a smile beneath his mustache.

  Epperley said, “I say, looks like the brandy did the trick.”

  She looked down at the empty snifter. “Forgive me. The trip, the travails, must have weakened me and sent me into this state. My apologies.”

  She snuck a sideways glance at Lewis, to see if her explanation would do.

  “It is quite understandable,” the hotelier assured her. “Such a shock. Do you have these spells regularly?”

  It dawned on Inez that admitting to an occasional fainting spell might be the ticket to obtaining “something stronger” than the ghastly mineral water—say, the welcome medicinal draught of brandy—without censure during her stay.

  Susan said, “No!” just as Inez said, “Yes!”

  Lewis tsked-tsked and said to Epperley. “Perhaps a little more brandy, to be certain the chills have departed.”

  Epperley picked up the empty snifter from the occasional table. “But of course, sir.” When Lewis turned his attention back to Inez, Epperley looked at Inez from behind his employer’s back, one eyebrow raised in question or perhaps amusement.

  Inez said, “That would be wonderful.”

  Epperley exited again.

  “What about Mrs. Pace and the children?” Susan asked.

  Lewis said, “She asked they be taken directly to her rooms.”

  He hesitated, looking from Susan to Inez. “The town marshal will probably want to talk with you both about what happened in the coach. Dr. Prochazka is understandably concerned about what happened as well.”

  “Is it really necessary?” Susan asked.

  Mindful of more brandy in her future, Inez gave a mock shiver. Lewis ventured to pat her hand timidly. “We shall make it as painless as possible for you both and for Mrs. Pace. But, such unfortunate circumstances require a certain amount of inquiry. I’m certain it will add up to little. Mr. Pace was of an age that I’d not advise him to take such an arduous journey, and his wife—” He caught himself. “Well, I am no physician, I leave all that to Dr. Prochazka. However, I’ve seen my share of ailments and conditions here in Manitou over these past few years, and, I can assure you the climate of Manitou and the therapies of the good doctor are truly miraculous.”

  He ventured another hand pat.

  Inez wanted to whop him.

  “We have had customers and clients come from all corners of the country and Europe, with complaints of consumption to colitis, hysteria to neurasthenia. They come through our doors, take the therapies and follow the doctor’s instructions, and recover.”

  He stopped as Epperley returned and offered Inez another brandy, saying, “Should madame require anything further, I am at your service.”

  Lewis added, “Epperley is my right-hand man. If there is anything that you need or something does not meet your satisfaction, do not hesitate to call on him or myself.”

  The second glass did much to augment the benefits of the first. She had barely finished when the parlor door flew open. Inez looked around, expecting to see Epperley with yet another offer of more brandy.

  Instead, hands clasped before her pale satin evening dress, eyes large and liquid in the dim parlor light…her sister.

  Harmony.

  Chapter Six

  Momentarily forgetting her role as invalid, Inez rose to her feet. Harmony’s face brightened. Inez held out her arms. Has it truly been a year since I last saw her?

  Harmony moved forward, evening shoes making no sound on the deep carpet.

  The sisters embraced. Inez closed her eyes, feeling the slight frame of her sister solid and real within her arms.

  “Mrs. Jonathan DuChamps. Let me look at you.” Inez pulled back to put Harmony out at arm’s length.

  The first thing Inez marked was how pale Harmony was, nearly as pale as the antimacassar lace on the back of the settee. Far paler than she’d been the previous year. The second thing Inez became aware of was her sister’s youth: twenty-two, and three years married.

  At thirty-one, Inez felt suddenly old.

  Harmony’s smile seemed to bring light to the room, then her expression sobered. “I heard about your travels, and the Paces. We met them here at the hotel before they set out to Leadville. They have been at the Mountain Springs House most of the summer, so they told us, and were doing so much better in this climate and under the doctor’s care. Oh, poor Mrs. Pace, and the children. I cannot imagine.” She stopped, wiped a tear with one hand. A diamond bracelet sparkled at her wrist. “But that is not for us to talk of now.” She turned toward Susan, who was now standing. “Is this your traveling companion?”

  “Mrs. DuChamps, may I present my dear friend from Leadville, Miss Carothers.” Inez, still holding her sister’s hand with her own, took Susan’s hand as well, drawing her forward to meet her sister. “Miss Carothers is a photographer. Only in the West, I’d imagine you’re thinking. Yet, talent finds a way, no matter where it resides, and Miss Carothers has considerable talent. She is also my dear friend and confidant in Leadville, and has been like a sister to me.”

  Inez looked from one woman to the other and was struck by the resemblance. Both were of modest height, with dark hair and eyes. Harmony had even adopted a stylish frizz of curls bordering her forehead, much like Susan. They differed in their costume, Harmony’s elegant eveningwear and diamonds contrasting sharply with Susan’s plain, travel-worn clothes. But the most striking difference to Inez was in their skin tone. Susan’s face exhibited the rosy flush and darker hue of someone who, despite bonnets and parasols, was no stranger to the sun. By comparison, Harmony’s pallor would have suited an alabaster statue.

  Her sister’s paleness troubled Inez, putting her in mind of invalids lying under blankets and shivering despite fires roaring in the grates. Inez mentally shook off the grim vision.

  Harmony took Susan’s free hand and said, “My sister’s letters mention you often. I look forward to
getting to know you during this short time in Manitou.”

  Susan smiled. “I look forward to that as well, Mrs. DuChamps. I will only be at the Mountain Springs House for tonight. After that, I’ll be staying at Mrs. Galbreaith’s Ohio House.” She glanced at Inez. “I should retire and leave you two to talk. Inez? You’ll be all right?”

  Harmony looked a question at Inez.

  “Fine, fine.” Inez said hastily. She added to Harmony, “A momentary faintness. Nothing serious. The travels and the strain, I suspect.”

  After Susan said her goodnights and departed, the two sisters sat on the settee.

  Harmony said, “The arrival of the carriage caused quite a stir among the staff. I had been expecting you, so was more sensitive to their whisperings than others who were in the music room. A tragedy. Those poor children, and Mrs. Pace.”

  “Sad indeed.”

  Harmony hesitated, then said, “I have much I need to talk to you about, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

  “As I have with you.” The weight of Mark’s return sat like a mountain upon Inez’s thoughts.

  The mantel clock began chiming. Inez glanced at the time: midnight. “I should be retiring. But, I’d like to see William first.”

  “Of course!” Harmony paused. “He’s sleeping, but we could wake him.”

  “No need,” Inez said. “I just want to see him.”

  A discreet knock at the door and Lewis entered, key in hand. “Mrs. Stannert, your luggage is in your room, and the warming stove is stoked. Feeling better, I hope?” His eyebrows raised to his nonexistent hairline.

  “Much.” Inez stood, moved to the coat rack, and gingerly folded her cloak over one arm. “I shall need these cleaned.”

  “We have an excellent laundress on staff. She’s a seamstress as well. If you have anything that needs repairing or cleaning during your stay, she is quick and reliable.” Lewis ushered them out of the parlor. “Mrs. Stannert, your room is on the second floor, not far from the DuChamps quarters. May I?” He made as if to escort the women up the stairs.