Читать книгу The Marriage Mishap - Judith Stacy, Judith Stacy - Страница 11

Haley pushed her hair off her shoulder and peered over the thick coverlet. Morning sunlight sifted through the white gossamer drapes across the room. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Another strange room.

She fell back on the pillow and lifted her arm. At least this morning she had on her own nightgown.

“Morning, Miss Haley.”

She pushed herself up higher on the pillows and saw Chrissy sorting through her clothing at the bureau. “Is it?”

She smiled brightly. “I know you slept like a hound in the shade. Would you just look at this place? I talked to the other servants this morning and learned that Mr. Harrington designed this whole place himself and had it built just like he wanted it. Marble all the way from Italy, paintings from France. Why, those stained-glass windows downstairs came all the way from England. The whole other end of this floor is the nursery. And there’s four bathrooms—four! Can you believe it?”

Haley gazed at the lace canopy over her head and the pristine white eyelet quilt covering her. A delicate blue-and-white print paper covered the walls, and a deep blue carpet stretched the length of the large room. The furniture was cherry. A new scent clung to everything, as if the room had been waiting for her.

“You’d better get up, if you’re wanting to have breakfast with your new mister.” Chrissy approached the bed. “Everybody says he’s as fussy as a hen with one chick when it comes to his schedule. That Bernard fella? He’s got the mister’s whole day written down on paper—carries it around with him all the time.”

“Lovely…” Haley got out of bed and stretched.

“Over there, that’s a bathroom.” Chrissy pointed across the room. “And the other door is a sitting room. It’s got a big ol’ desk in it, and chairs softer than goose down. Your mister’s bedroom is on the other side.” She giggled. “But you probably know that already, huh.”

Haley headed toward the bathroom door, ignoring the maid’s insinuation. She knew nothing more of her husband than she had when he abandoned her in the foyer with Bernard. If he’d come to her room with romantic notions during the night, she’d slept through them.

Her feet slowed on the thick carpet. What if he had come? She remembered little of the night before, at the Madison. Had he been here last night and she’d forgotten that too? Haley shook her head. Surely, one of these nights she would remain alert and aware of his overtures.

She stepped onto the cold tile of the bathroom floor grinding her fists in her eyes. She yawned loudly and stretched, rising on her toes, reaching toward the ceiling.

“Good morning.”

She squealed and spun around. Adam. He stood before the mirror at the sink, his shoulders twisted so that he could look at her. A white towel wrapped his hips; long, muscular legs showed below it, bulging arms above it. Foamy shaving soap covered half his face.

The breath went out of her. “I—I didn’t know…”

A shudder passed through Adam, reverberating until it slammed low in his belly. Oh, God, she was beautiful, all tousled and rumpled and disheveled. Just the sight of her made him want to—

He grabbed another towel from the rack by the sink and held it in front of him, trying to look casual. He gestured with the razor in his hand. “The bath joins our rooms.”

She glanced through the open door and saw the same rich blue carpet as in her own room, and a heavy cherry four-poster bed made neatly with a blue quilt. Adam’s bedroom. She felt her knees weaken.

“I designed it that way. I designed this whole end of the house as a suite for my wife.”

He gestured with the razor again, and she saw the dark hair beneath his arm, the curls across his chest, the line that arrowed into the towel below his navel.

“It’s…magnificent,” she breathed.

“That tub?” He pointed to the claw-footed white porcelain bathtub. “I had it specially made in Philadelphia. It’s seven feet long—the only one like it in the country. The whole house is wired for electricity. As soon as Sacramento Electric Power and Light figures how to generate current more than five miles at a stretch, we’ll have it.”

“Sir, it is now 6:42.” Bernard appeared in the doorway to Adam’s bedroom. “Oh, begging your pardon, sir.”

“I’m going to work,” he explained to Haley.

“I see.” She thought she might actually explode at any second from the extreme heat boiling inside her.

“I’ll be finished here in—”

“Seven minutes, sir,” Bernard intoned.

“Seven minutes.” Adam gestured toward the tub. “Unless you’d like to go ahead and…”

Her skin tingled, and parts of her felt suddenly heavy. “No, no, I’ll wait.” She backed toward the door.

He took a step forward, clutching the towel. “I’ll have Bernard work out a morning schedule for us.”

“Fine.” Haley escaped into her own room. As she closed the door, she caught sight of Chrissy craning her neck.

“He’s quite the looker, if I can say so, ma’am.”

Haley frantically fanned herself with her palms. Why was it so hot in here? “Open a window, Chrissy.”

“I’m going over to your aunt’s house this afternoon to get the rest of your things.” Chrissy hoisted the window and gave Haley a look over her shoulder. “Edward is taking me.”

“Edward?”

“Mr. Harrington’s driver, the one who brought us over here last night.” She smiled. “We got to talking and all. He lives right here, got a place all to himself over the carriage house. Well, now, let’s get you ready. I know you don’t want to keep your new mister waiting.”

But he didn’t wait. Haley found Adam in the foyer, talking with Bernard, readying to leave.

“Have the gardener continue on the rose beds.”

Bernard nodded sedately as he assisted Adam into his jacket. “Yes, sir.”

“And notify the staff that all decisions concerning the house should be directed to Mrs. Harrington.” He nodded toward Haley as she joined them.

“Of course, sir.” Bernard cleared his throat quietly. “Today is the twelfth, sir.”

Adam tugged down on his starched cuffs. “Yes.”

“Tomorrow, sir? Master Kip?”

He nodded. “Of course. Take funds from the household account, Bernard, and get him something. Have it sent over.”

“Suggestions, sir?” He passed him his leather valise.

“Whatever you think is appropriate. How old is he now?”

“Thirteen, sir.”

Haley felt like an intruder eavesdropping on an old ritual. “Somebody’s birthday?” she ventured.

Adam and Bernard both looked at her, unaccustomed to the interruption in their routine.

“My brother, Kip. His birthday is tomorrow.”

Haley brightened. “Really? Is your family having a party for him?”

Adam paled slightly. “No.”

“Well then, let’s have a party for him here.” Haley warmed to the idea. “We’ll have your family—isn’t that what you want, Adam?—and…some friends. I’ll have the cook bake a large…”

Her words died when Bernard turned away, as if embarrassed for her, and Adam drew in a deep, steadying breath.

“We don’t celebrate Kip’s birthday,” he said quietly.

Haley clasped her hands together. “Why not?”

He eyed her sharply. “Because our mother died when he was born.” Adam pulled the pocket watch from his waistcoat. “Two minutes behind schedule,” he mumbled, and looked at Haley. “See that the parlor clock is repaired today. If you need anything, consult with Bernard. He is always apprised of my schedule.”

And with that, Adam left her standing in the foyer.

“Would madam care for breakfast?”

Bernard had a way of looking at her without seeming to actually see her. “Whatever Mr. Harrington had.”

“Including the spirits, madam? Mr. Harrington has a Bloody Mary with his breakfast.”

She frowned. “No.”

Bernard bowed slightly and silently left the foyer.

Haley exhaled heavily in the still, silent house. Sitting in Adam’s monstrous bathtub this morning, she’d mulled her situation over and, try as she might, Haley could think of no good reason to leave, and several good reasons to stay. For one, it would put the Farnsworth incident behind her, and for another, this marriage would appease her mother, and might even bring her back into favor.

Haley walked into the dining room. But, more than anything, marriage to Adam was just the excuse she needed to stay in Sacramento, which was what she’d wanted all along.

Seated alone at the dining room table, listening to the ticking of a clock somewhere in the house, Haley thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, Adam had kept his word.

She certainly hadn’t interfered a bit in his life, just as he’d promised.

Leather creaked beneath him as he eased into the chair across from his father’s massive desk, and smoke from his cigar coiled in front of him. Adam blew out a gray, hazy cloud. “Trouble this weekend?”

Martin Harrington reared back, puffing. “Damn vandals. I’d like to get my hands around their necks.”

“What happened?”

Martin sat forward and dragged his hands through his silvery hair. “Spilled paint, nail kegs overturned. Nuisance stuff again.”

Adam shrugged. “Probably just kids.”

“It better not be the trade unions. If I find out it is, they’ll sure as hell be sorry.” Martin clamped the cigar between his teeth. “How are the McKettrick plans coming?”

Adam blew out a heavy breath. “Fine.”

“I want to get there first. I don’t want McKettrick looking at anybody else’s ideas. I want this bid to—”

“I know. I know.” Adam sat straighter in the chair. “You know I don’t want to do this project.”

“It’s money in the bank. Big money. I want it.”

They’d discussed it a half-dozen times already; it wasn’t the first time Adam and his father had disagreed. “We’ll get it, Martin.”

He hadn’t called his father by anything but his first name for years, since he came to work at the firm. It suited them both.

“We’d better.” Martin rose and walked to the window, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. Folding his hands at his back, he stared down at the street below; the view from his private office on the second floor of the Harrington Building allowed him to look down at much of the city, the docks and the Sacramento River. A long moment dragged by. Finally he said, “Well, who is she?”

Adam tapped his cigar in the ashtray on his father’s desk, surprised he’d waited this long to bring up the subject. “Don’t you mean, what is she?”

He threw a look over his shoulder that offered no apology, and turned to stare out the window again.

“Her grandfather is Cyrus Hasting of San Francisco. I think you’re familiar with the family. Banking, real estate, shipping, railroads.”

He grunted—a sound Adam interrupted as favorable.

“Her mother’s a widow, prominent in social circles.”

Martin snorted distastefully.

“She’s here visiting her aunt on her mother’s side, Harriet Covington.”

“Damn. Too bad old Ben Covington died already. We could use another supporter in the legislature.”

Adam puffed on his cigar again. “All in all, an acceptable pedigree.”

“Oscar check her out?”

“He did.”

“No skeletons in her closet?”

Adam shifted in the chair. “None I’m concerned about.”

A long moment dragged by. “Well, it’s about damn time you got yourself a wife. I don’t know what the hell you were waiting for. Bring her to dinner tonight.”

Dinner at his father’s house was definitely not the evening he had planned.

Martin looked over his shoulder. “I want to meet her.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Gwen—”

“I’ll handle Gwen.” Martin turned. “Bring her over. I want to meet the woman who’ll give me my grandchildren.”

“Good evening, sir.”

Adam passed his valise to Bernard. Maybe it was his imagination, but the house seemed to smell sweeter tonight. He’d certainly been more anxious than usual to get home.

“Where is Haley?”

Bernard inclined his head toward the back of the house. “In the solarium, I believe, sir.”

“Is she ready to go?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know.”

He frowned. “You told her, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Adam passed through the arched doorway and headed down the hall toward the solarium, but caught sight of Haley in his study. “What are you doing in here?”

She looked up from her seat behind his desk. “Good evening to you, too.”

Light from the gas jets bathed her in hues of pink. Adam rubbed his forehead and stopped in front of the desk. “What are you looking at?”

“Don’t you know?” She glanced down at the blueprints laid out before her. “You’re designing them, aren’t you?”

“I just didn’t expect to find you in here.”

She sat back. “Is this room off-limits?”

“No,” he said quickly. “This is your home now. As I said, you can do with it what you choose.”

“Good, because I’d like to—”

“Don’t tell me.” Adam held up his hand. He’d had his fill of settling servant squabbles, looking at household budgets and worrying over windowsills being dusted in the past few months. He hadn’t thought having a large house would be such a burden. “Just do whatever you want.”

Haley shrugged. “Well, if you’re certain.”

“I’m certain.”

“What are these things, anyway?”

Surprised at her interest, Adam stepped behind the desk. “Plans for some new houses.”

She tilted her head one way, then the other. “They are?”

Adam leaned forward and ran his finger down the lines on the paper. “See? These are walls. These represent windows and doors, bedrooms, parlors.”

“Oh.” She looked up at him. “Aren’t they rather small?”

Her breasts swelled the bodice of her gown, noticeable now because he was looking down on her. Adam’s breath caught. “No, they’re not small at all. They’re full and soft and—”

“The houses are full and sort?” Haley stared down at the blueprints again.

“The houses—oh yes, the houses.” God, what had he just said? “Actually, they are small, but that’s what McKettrick wants. He’s expanding, building a new factory and he wants to provide housing for his workers.”

“And they want to live in these tiny little houses?”

She looked up at him again, and Adam felt his knees weaken. He turned away quickly and grabbed a decanter from the table beneath the window. “It’s a lot of houses, all generally small. That’s what McKettrick wants.”

“Well…I suppose.” Haley folded her hands in her lap.

Adam poured himself a bourbon, and a little smile tugged at his lips. “Did you have a visitor today?”

“Yes, I did. Mr. Havermeyer stopped by this afternoon.”

Thoroughly pleased with himself, Adam sipped his drink and turned to her. “Well? What did you pick out?”

The neat little bearded man had shown up in her parlor with a case full of jewelry. Pick whatever she wanted, he’d said. All her husband had insisted upon was that she have a gold wedding band.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Adam frowned. “You need a wedding band, Haley. It’s hardly proper for you to be seen in public without one. And I told Havermeyer to let you have whatever else you wanted. I expected you to be pleased.”

Haley sat back in the deep leather chair. “Had I been married to Mr. Havermeyer, I would have been very pleased to pick out a wedding band with him.”

What was wrong with this woman? He’d sent a jeweler displaying exquisite gems and she’d not wanted anything? What kind of nonsense was she talking, anyway?

Adam tossed down his bourbon. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go where?”

His jaw tightened as he gazed down at her. “To my father’s for dinner. I sent word to Bernard for you to be ready when I got home.”

“I don’t take instructions from servants.”

She said it so sweetly that a moment passed before the meaning sunk in. Anger coiled in his chest. “This is how I have my household set up. Bernard handles my schedule.”

“Then perhaps Bernard will go to dinner with you tonight.” She rose sedately and crossed the room. At the door, she stopped and looked back at him. “I am prepared to go…this time.”

Stunned, Adam stared as she sashayed from the room.

They didn’t speak as they rode to his father’s house in town. Adam smoked four cigarettes, one after another, tossing the butts out the window, stealing glances at his new wife across the darkened carriage.

He had a way with women, or so he’d always thought. He could be generous, thoughtful, kind— even charming, when necessary. Women fawned over him. Mothers, aunts and grandmothers pushed their daughters, nieces and granddaughters at him. Certainly they all thought him a handsome catch. The Lord knew, enough eligible young women had been paraded in front of him.

Adam’s shoulders squared as he gazed at Haley in the shadows. So what was wrong with this woman? Nothing he did made any difference. The house he’d given her, the jewelry he’d offered hadn’t affected her in the least. Haley seemed totally immune.

Adam grunted and turned away. Not only had he been unable to charm her, he couldn’t even get her to like him. And if he couldn’t get her to like him, how was he ever going to get her into bed with him?

Adam slouched on the leather seat and lit another cigarette.

Darkness had descended over the city when the carriage stopped outside the Harrington’s large home. Adam escorted her up the walk and spoke to the butler who greeted them.

There was a settled look about the house, as if it had been there for years, just as it sat tonight. It was immaculate, almost as though no one lived there. It gave Haley an eerie feeling.

Adam introduced her to his family, and they spoke politely before settling around the dining room table. Almost immediately, Adam and his father began discussing business.

At the head of the table, Martin Harrington was a commanding sight, tall and straight despite his silver hair. Beside Adam sat his sister, Gwen, dark-haired and green-eyed, like Adam. With her mother gone, Haley wondered why Gwen wasn’t seated at the foot of the table, as the mistress of the house should be. Nearing thirty, there was a hardness about her. Probably a pretty girl once, lines and creases showed in her face. Or was it something else that had aged her? Haley pretended not to notice that Gwen was on her fourth glass of wine.

At Haley’s right sat Kip, tomorrow’s birthday boy. Small and thin, he pushed his food around his plate. Though with his light brown hair and blue eyes he hardly resembled his older brother and sister physically, Haley found a connection; he looked as bored as the rest of them.

Finally something in the conversation caught her ear. Haley perked up. “The McKettrick plans? Adam and I were discussing them this evening.”

Everything in the room stopped. All eyes riveted her. Adam blanched. Kip and Gwen looked at her as if she’d just suggested they all disrobe and wallow in the rice pudding. Martin looked as though he’d been violated.

Haley’s stomach hardened into a knot. She smiled. “The plans looked very interesting. Have you seen them, Mr. Harrington?”

“No, I haven’t.” He shoved a spoonful of pudding into his mouth and looked away.

“You’ve seen the plans? The treasured, gold-plated McKettrick plans?” Gwen rolled her eyes with mock envy and lifted her glass. “A reason to celebrate! More wine!”

Martin glared at her.

“Can I be excused?” Kip dropped his napkin beside his plate, as if he’d been waiting for an opportunity to escape.

“Eat.” Martin barked.

“I don’t like it.” Kip slapped his fork down.

Martin pointed at him. “I don’t care what you like—”

“It tastes like garbage! I want to be excused!”

“Not until you finish your meal.”

Gwen looked across the table at Kip. “Oh, go ahead. You can leave.”

Martin’s jaw tightened. “The boy needs to eat. He’s skinny as a rail.”

“Well, you certainly know what’s best, don’t you, Father?” Sarcasm dripped from each taunting word. Gwen banged her spoon against her glass. “I said, more wine!”

A doorbell chimed through the house. Martin slammed his spoon on the table. “Who the devil is that, coming to call at the dinner hour?”

“I’ll see!” Kip ran from the room.

“Come back here!” Martin yelled.

Gwen glared at him defiantly, then laughed.

“Damn it,” Martin mumbled. He tossed his napkin on the table and stalked from the room.

Gwen waved her glass. “I guess I’ll have to get my own wine.” She wobbled away.

Adam stared at his plate. Haley couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or simply accustomed to their behavior.

She pressed her fingers to her lips, as if trying to recall something. “So, what did you tell me was the reason you moved into your own home?”

He looked up at her, and she gave him a smile. Adam relaxed marginally. “It was a tough decision.” He tossed his napkin on the table. “Let’s get out of here.”

He clasped her elbow and they headed for the foyer, but commotion in the front of the house stopped them. The front door stood open, and two men were piling trunks in the foyer.

“Well, I’ll be. It’s Isabelle.” A genuine smile parted Adam’s lips, and he went into the parlor.

Haley followed and saw a tall, statuesque woman in traveling clothes standing in the middle of the room. Gray streaked her black hair. Kip was at her elbow, looking mystified, while Gwen sipped another glass of wine. Shoulders hunched, Martin stood in the corner.

“Where have you been, Aunt Izzy?” Kip asked anxiously. “Lots of great places?”

“You dear, dear boy. The world—I’ve been around the world, I tell you. Wait until you see what I’ve brought for you.” Isabelle gestured grandly with her hands.

Gwen raised her glass in a toast. “Here’s hoping it’s liquid.”

“Adam!” Isabelle’s gaze fell on him, and she threw out her arms. “Come here, you handsome thing.”

“I missed you, Aunt Izzy.” He crossed the room and reached for her hands.

“Wait!” Isabelle’s eyes bulged, and she threw out her palm, stopping him. She pressed her thumb and forefinger to her temple. “Don’t move.”

Kip’s eyes widened. “Are you getting a reading, Aunt Izzy?”

“Oh, for God’s sake…” Martin groaned.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m getting something.” Isabelle rotated her outstretched palm in a circular motion. “Yes, yes, I’m picking up another aura.”

“I know who it is,” Kip exclaimed. “Adam got married.”

Her eyes popped open. “Married!”

Adam smiled and gave her a hug.

“Martin finally goaded you into it, huh? What did he do, get you drunk and have the ceremony performed while you were unconscious?”

Adam caught Haley’s gaze and saw the sharp intake of her breath. His chest tightened.

“Well, where is she? I’ve got to see this new blood. It’s about time you and Amelia tied the knot.”

Haley left her station in the doorway, then stopped dead in her tracks. An embarrassed silence fell over the room, and Adam shifted uncomfortably.

He took her arm. “Aunt Izzy, my wife, Haley. Haley, this is my aunt, Isabelle Gladmore.”

Isabelle looked confused. “But what happened to—? Never mind, she had a strange aura, anyway.” She gave Haley a solid hug. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”

Despite her own heart’s pounding, Haley liked Isabelle immediately.

“I got the letters you sent, Aunt Izzy.” Kip’s eyes were bright. “Did you get to go to England?”

She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “England—boring, boring people there. No, dear, I sailed to Hawaii. Beautiful, pristine beaches and simple grass huts. I fell into a deep friendship with Queen Liliuokalani. She gave me my own island.”

“Gosh.”

“Can’t you just go places like other people?” Martin complained. “Proper places?”

Isabelle pinched her lips distastefully. “Winter in New York, spring in Europe, summer in Newport. No, thank you.”

“Where else did you go?” Kip asked anxiously.

“To the Far East, where I had an acquaintance with a Japanese baron. I visited Burma, and lived in the harem of an Indian maharaja—as an observer, of course.”

“What’s a harem?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Isabelle,” Martin barked. “Not in front of the boy.”

She turned to him. “And I didn’t forget my only brother. Wait until you see what I brought you from China.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”

“I’ve collected the most fabulous Oriental art.” She whirled to face Haley again. “You’ve got to see them.”

“I’ve got to,” she agreed. “You must come over soon.”

“You have your own home?” Isabelle eyed Adam. “So, one of you finally escaped this mausoleum. Good for you!”

“All right, all right, go get settled upstairs.” Martin waded into the cluster of people in the center of the room, dispersing them. “I guess you’re staying here.”

“How long will you be with us, Aunt Izzy?” Kip asked.

She patted his slim shoulders. “Until the wind whips in from the east and whispers that it’s time to go.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Christ…”

“I’m glad you’re here, Aunt Izzy, because—”

“Wait!” She threw out her palm again and touched her temple. “I’m getting something.”

Kip’s eyes widened. “Another reading, Aunt Izzy?”

The room fell silent while Izzy closed her eyes, communing with some unknown force. After a moment, she shook it off. “Never mind. It was nothing. Stand aside, everyone. I have gifts to unpack.”

As they all headed out the door, Isabelle caught Adam’s arm. “I must speak with you,” she whispered.

Adam bent down. “What is it, Aunt Izzy?”

“It’s your wife. I’m picking up a strange reading from her.”

“From Haley?” Adam managed not to laugh at the concern that marked his aunt’s brow. She was a dear, and he loved her, mostly because of her eccentric behavior. She’d claimed to get strange readings from Kip and Gwen for years, but it meant nothing.

“Watch over her, Adam.”

“I will, Aunt Izzy.”

She laid her hand on his arm and looked up solemnly at him. “Something is amiss with that young woman, I just can’t pinpoint it. Watch over her closely. A life hangs in the balance.”