Oregon Trail Boxed Set
Page 45
She yawned. “I was, but the sound of your thinking woke me up.”
“How much did you know about your father’s estate?”
“Not much. Only what Sylvia told me. She said almost all of Papa’s money and belongings had to be turned over to the bank due to deficits created by his assistant.”
He tucked a silky strand of hair behind her ear. “Did Sylvia tell you how much money the solicitors gave her?”
“No, not the exact amount, but I got the impression it wasn’t very much.” Angel yawned again.
“All right, darlin’, go to sleep. We’ll talk more about it in the morning.”
“Just tell me if Sylvia is all right.” She mumbled as her eyes drifted closed.
“She’s fine. The whole thing is being taken care of.”
“Good.” The last word barely a whisper, as she snuggled closer and dropped off to sleep.
* * *
Once again, Lucy climbed the worn stairs of the old building, and walked the hallway to Moses McNeil’s office. The unchanged sight of the corpulent man in the same suit, with another cigar smoldering in the ashtray, and the same messy desk, greeted her. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“Mr. McNeil, what additional information do you have for me?” She pointedly ignored the chair he indicated.
“It seems that our checking into Mrs. Hale’s background caused the New York City Police department to locate Mrs. Hale’s stepmother, Mrs. Hardwick. I understand she’ll be arrested for grand larceny.”
Lucy sighed at the man’s uselessness. “You’re a little behind the times, Mr. McNeil. The arrest of Mrs. Hardwick is old news. In fact, she’s already been arrested and released. My papa took care of it.”
“Well I’m afraid I haven’t come up with anything else. It seems Angelina Hardwick Hale was a society debutante in New York City before she came out here to marry Mr. Hale.”
Lucy sat forward her brows furrowed. “New York City debutante? Why would she be a mail order bride?”
The man looked down at the notes on his desk. “The bank her father owned came up short on deposits when he died.”
She perked up at that news. “So her father was a thief?”
The hopeless man shook his head. “No. It seems a trusted employee pilfered money while Mr. Hardwick was ill. When Hardwick died, all his assets, including his house, were sold to replace the money. From what my man discovered, Mrs. Sylvia Hardwick arranged for Mrs. Hale to travel to Oregon City to marry Mr. Hale.”
A New York Society debutante. Damn.
“I will send you my invoice.” The man’s raspy voice followed her into the hallway.
She nodded and turned to leave. Now she had to come up with another plan.
19
“Sweetheart, I think we should move up the wedding date.” Eli took a sip of steaming coffee as he regarded Sylvia across the breakfast table.
She frowned. “What did you have in mind? I’ll need enough time to arrange everything, and have a gown made.”
“Can you do it all in a couple of weeks?”
She studied him as he swallowed the last of his eggs. It amazed her how quickly she’d grown to care for him. To the outside world, he came across as all bluster and tough businessman. But it hadn’t taken her long to see the loneliness filling Eli Benson. Although he had a strong sense of pride, he’d agreed to allow her to continue working at the restaurant after they married, merely to please her.
A shadow crept over her as she thought about being put out of her sister’s friend’s house in the middle of a war, with nowhere to go, no one to care about her. The pampered daughter of an industrialist, Sylvia married at twenty-two, and widowed at thirty-two Left with no children, but a considerable amount of money, life continued pleasantly until she married Gerald Hardwick, who became ill after a few years of marriage and then died, leaving her penniless. The authorities had even taken the money she’d brought to the marriage.
The fact that she could earn enough to support herself restored her security. Eli might be a wealthy man, but Sylvia would squirrel away her earnings, just in case.
She stopped her musing to answer him. “I can be ready in three weeks. It would probably be best since I’ve been staying here.”
“Don’t you worry about that, my dear. It doesn’t matter what people think, because no one would dare snub you. I practically own this town.”
Right after the jail scare, her belongings had been sent from the Hale household to the Benson home, and Sylvia had been ensconced in the guest room. Of course, no one need know she snuck into his bedroom each night, and back out the next morning.
* * *
Bent over his worktable, Nate maneuvered the pin on a revolver, then his attention swung to the door as Lucy entered his shop. Her steps faltered, and she swayed a bit, not too steady on her feet. Frowning, he looked closer when she stopped in front of him. Bloodshot eyes, and from a distance of about three feet, he smelled liquor.
“Mornin’ Nate,” she said with a big smile.
He returned his concentration to his work. “Mornin’ Lucy, how are you today?”
“Me?” she giggled. “I’m fine. In fact, this is the best day.”
“Well, you sure sound happy. What can I do for you?”
Lucy plopped herself on a chair next to the counter, almost missing the seat. All of a sudden her demeanor changed and her face collapsed. “Why didn’t you wait for me, Nate? I planned to make you the best wife.”
A shaky hand wiped her forehead, accidentally shifting her hat so it hung to one side. She didn’t seem to notice. Alarmed at her condition, Nate walked around the counter and stood in front of her. “Why don’t I drive you home, and we can visit another time?”
“No.” She stuck her chin out, and blinked several times. Again she swayed to one side, and Nate had to catch her to keep her from falling off the chair.
“I came to tell you something important.”
Nate walked to the door and flipped the sign to “Closed.” He returned to Lucy, and took her by the elbow. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes, trying hard to focus. “Home to your house? Are you going to take me to bed? I had lots of experience in Europe. I can teach you a few things.”
He blew out an exasperated breath as he gathered the articles scattered on the floor, and shoved them into her reticule. Then he lifted her limp body and carried her out the back door to the buggy she’d arrived in.
She giggled. “Oh, you’re so romantic.”
He deposited her in the buggy, and after locking the shop door, jumped up on the seat, and started for the Benson house. Within minutes he heard snoring and glanced over at a sleeping Lucy.
Nate shook his head as they continued on. What in heaven’s name could Eli do about this? The young woman flirted with danger, and her heavy drinking would not have a good end.
The few people he’d known with drinking problems ended up dead before their time. But a young woman could cause a great deal of embarrassment for her family before she ruined her health to that degree. He’d never understand why a beautiful girl with all the advantages she had would throw everything away, including her future, for drink.
Rather than carrying her to the front door, Nate left her in the buggy, raced up the stairs and knocked. The doorman Nate remembered from the party answered. Stepping inside, Nate spoke quietly. “Is Mr. Benson at home?”
“Yes, sir, he and Mrs. Hardwick are in the breakfast room. May I direct you?”
The couple looked up as Nate entered, surprise and curiosity on their faces.
“Hello, Nate, what brings you out this way?” Eli wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Have some coffee.” He pushed a cup over to him, and nodded to the silver coffee pot on the table.
“Thanks, but I’m here to bring Lucy home. I have to get back to work.”
“Lucy? I thought she was still abed.” Eli frowned and stood.
“No.” Nate ran his fingers through his
hair. “She came to see me in my shop.”
The couple waited, and tension snapped as they regarded him.
Nate took a deep breath and rested his hands at his hips. “Actually, sir, she came to my shop drunk. I’m sorry, but there’s no other way to say it.”
“Drunk!” Sylvia and Eli said at the same time.
“She wanted to show me something, but couldn’t find it, and when I noticed her condition, I insisted on driving her home.” He turned and started toward the door. “Right now she’s sound asleep in your buggy out front.”
Both Eli and Sylvia stood and immediately hurried after him. Nate reached the door first and ran down the steps to the buggy. Lifting Lucy, who still snored, from the carriage, he carried her into the house. Sylvia led him upstairs to Lucy’s room. He placed her on the bed, and turned to Sylvia.
“This is not the first time I’ve seen Lucy either drunk or close to it. I don’t know what Eli can do, except hide the liquor. She must be getting it from him.”
“I’ve noticed it myself, but I haven’t said anything to Eli because I know how close they both are.” She smiled sadly. “Well, they used to be close until I came into the picture.”
Nate regarded her, sensing her misplaced guilt. “Don’t go blaming yourself. Lucy’s had problems for a while, long before you arrived.” He gave Sylvia a brief hug. “Talk to Eli. With his money, he could hire someone to look out for her. Like a companion. And tell him to lock his liquor up.”
She cupped his cheek. “Thank you, dear. I will.” She looked down at the sleeping girl, then took a light blanket from the closet and covered her after removing her hat and shoes.
* * *
Lucy awoke in her bed with a throbbing headache. She winced as she turned her head and gazed around the room. Her tongue skimmed the inside of her mouth, which felt as if someone had swabbed the cavity with a nasty piece of cotton.
She rolled the other direction, glancing at the clock. Three o’clock. Since slivers of daylight peeked through the drawn curtains, it must’ve been afternoon, not the middle of the night.
Her still-muddled brain considered what had happened earlier. The memory of arriving at Nate’s gunsmith shop was clear enough, but things were a little fuzzy after that. She’d made the trip to show him the report Mr. McNeil had given her.
Did I actually show it to him?
After that, everything was a complete blank, so Nate must have brought her home. A loud groan escaped as she pulled the pillow from under her head, and covered her face. The trouble she soon faced would not be forgiven so easily.
A soft knocked sounded at her bedroom door. She contemplated ignoring it, but eventually she would have to face her father, so she eased herself up. “Come in.”
Sylvia entered, smiling.
Oh, God, why did it have to be her?
“How are you feeling, dear?” The woman quietly approached the bed.
“Awful.”
“Your papa would like to see you downstairs when you’re feeling up to it.”
“I’m sure he does.” Lucy lay back down and moaned when her head hit the pillow.
“Do you want me to help you?” Sylvia walked to the window and pushed the drapes aside.
Light poured into the room, and Lucy placed her hand over her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, close those drapes.”
Sylvia sighed. “Your papa’s been waiting for a while to talk to you, so I think you better wash your face, brush your hair, and come on down.”
“I know how to take care of myself, thank you very much.” Lucy threw off the cover and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“All right, I’ll leave you, and see you downstairs.”
Once the door clicked closed, Lucy took the few steps to where she kept her hidden whiskey bottle. Her eyes grew wide to find it empty. It couldn’t be possible she’d drunk so much. Only yesterday she’d pinched it from her father’s liquor supply.
She rinsed her mouth out with lavender water, washed her face, and brushed her hair. Twisting it into a chignon, she slipped her shoes on and left the room.
Once she arrived downstairs, she could hear Sylvia and Papa talking in the library, so she headed there.
The couple sat side by side on the settee. Her father held Sylvia’s hand as she leaned close to him, and spoke softly.
“Come in, honey.” He smiled when he noticed Lucy in the doorway.
Tears immediately welled up in Lucy’s eyes. Dabbing with her handkerchief, she sniffed and took the soft leather chair in front of the fireplace.
“I’m so sorry, Papa.” She wiped her cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t have had that one drink this morning. I had a chore to do I wasn’t happy about, so I needed a little bit of courage.”
Her father left Sylvia’s side, proceeded to where Lucy sat, and pulled her up. “Girl, don’t you know courage from a bottle is no courage at all?”
“I know that now.” She sniffed daintily, and peered up at him, her lip trembling. “I’ve never done that before, Papa, and I can assure you I truly learned my lesson.”
Sylvia’s eyebrows shot up at the blatant lie, but she remained silent. Her father gathered Lucy into his arms, and rubbed her back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know you did.”
Lucy smiled against her father’s shoulder, and glanced at Sylvia. She hadn’t fooled the older woman, but didn’t care. Her papa would always take care of her.
“Papa, I’m really not well. I’m not used to spirits, and I feel a little sick. May I go back to my room and lie down?”
He released her. “Of course, honey. You go on upstairs and lie down for the rest of the day. You’ll feel much better tomorrow. I’ll have Cook send a tray up for you in a little bit.”
“Thank you, Papa, I love you so much.” She gave him a kiss on his cheek. Turning, she walked out of the library, wondering how soon he would leave the room so she could replenish her liquor stock.
* * *
Sylvia placed the book she tried to read in her lap. It didn’t hold her interest, anyway. Her mind kept returning to the situation with Lucy. Eli wore blinders when it came to his daughter’s problems, and Sylvia could see disaster on the horizon. The young woman had been very clear she disliked her, and resented the relationship Sylvia had with her father.
Although not a very likeable girl, she felt sorry for Lucy in a strange way. Under all that nastiness, a spoiled young girl who’d never had the influence of a mother, cried out. Nate seemed capable of handling Lucy’s ever-increasing advances, and luckily Angelina kept her head about her, and ignored the young girl. But since her drinking had come to everyone’s attention, the time had arrived to take action before something tragic happened.
She rested her head against the back of the comfortable damask chair and allowed her thoughts to wander. She’d been thrilled when Eli hired her at the restaurant, and knew from the start he was attracted to her. As much as she liked his money, she also cared deeply for the man, and didn’t want to see him hurt. He was so protective of her, and had taken care of that nasty matter with the sheriff.
The whole episode still bothered her. The attorney for the estate had handed her a check for two hundred eleven dollars, when all the claims against Gerald’s estate had been paid. Why there remained over a thousand dollars still due depositors continued to be mystery.
But now she worried about her future stepdaughter. She rose from the chair to ready herself for an evening of dinner and the theater. Various ways to address Lucy’s situation with Eli ran through her mind. It would not be an easy conversation, but a necessary one.
Sometime later, after dismissing the maid who fixed her hair, Sylvia picked up her wrap, gloves and reticule, and headed downstairs. Eli waited for her in the library, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“Would you like a sherry before we leave, sweetheart?”
“Do we have time?” She settled on the padded bench in front of the fireplace.
“Yes.” He poured a small glass of the d
ark liquid and handed it to her. Taking the seat across from where she sat, he lifted his glass in a toast.
Sylvia took a small swallow. “Eli, we need to talk about Lucy.”
“What about Lucy?” Eli frowned.
“I don’t mean to upset you, but I have reason to believe she’s been drinking quite a bit.”
Eli dragged his hand down his face and sighed. “At one time I would have denied that, and taken offense at the suggestion, but I’m afraid you’re right. Even though she denies drinking, I’ve noticed liquor disappearing from my stock, and I have no reason to believe anyone on the staff has suddenly started stealing from me.”
She set her glass on the small cherry wood table next to her, and took his hand. “What are we going to do?”
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I thank God every day for you, my dear. You cannot imagine how wonderful it is to have someone to share my life, and concerns about my daughter.”
He rose and placed the empty brandy glass on the sideboard. “I wish I knew. A lot of Lucy’s behavior has to do with not having a woman’s influence. Also, my allowing her to run roughshod over everyone and giving her everything she wanted didn’t help.”
“I don’t think you should blame yourself.” Sylvia edged to the end of her seat. “Certain personality traits are present at birth. I really hate to make comparisons because it’s not always fair, but Angelina also experienced a childhood with no female influence, and had every advantage Lucy had. Yet you’ve seen how well she’s adjusted to her life. She adores her husband and the children. She doesn’t miss all the material things she had before. And she even took me in after I pulled that dirty trick on her.”
Sylvia remembered when she’d told Eli the mail order bride story, taking quite a bit of guilt onto herself when she did.
“Sweetheart, don’t keep blaming yourself for what you had to do to take care of Angel. You didn’t have a lot of choices, and I haven’t seen a happier couple than those two.” He sat alongside her and ran his knuckles over her cheek. “You did a good thing.”