His Californian Countess (19 page)

BOOK: His Californian Countess
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Amber had not thought she would become unpresentable. She knew women did not go about in society in those final ungainly months, but women in her home town had no such luxury. Deciding not to take exception to what had sounded like an insult, Amber said, “Still, I see no reason to drag the weight of all this material around behind me.”

“These days, ladies of
consequence
wear trained dresses and not only as a ball gown. As you have married into the aristocracy you must at least
appear
to be a lady of consequence. Shall we show the earl how you look in this one? So far he’s liked every item I’ve selected.” With that said the woman swept out of the dressing area, expecting Amber to follow.

Her temper simmering, Amber did follow, but only to take her case up with Jamie. The ensemble was lovely. She didn’t dispute that. The dress was made for the most part of an exquisite rose satin. It had short, set-in sleeves and a high ruffled neckline with a full skirt that ended in a ruffle that continued all along the extensive train. Designed to complete the outfit she also had on a rose, white and pink striped tight-fitting over-jacket the woman called a paletot. It had a high, collarless neckline and was nipped in at the waist, then flared
smoothly over the hips. The problem was that to her, a walking dress with a long train was ridiculously impractical. The entire train was covered with large, wide bows made of both the rose and the striped materials. The tails of the bows gently curved and dipped as if unfurling toward the hem, artistically crossing over each other.

She loved it and hated it at once. It would take two hours to iron. And she just couldn’t do that to Lily.

Jamie stood when she re-entered the main shop room. He was instantly alert. Meara, who had been making faces in a mirror, turned then. “You look beautiful, Mum.”

“Lady Adair feels it is too much, but it is one of Mr. Charles Worth’s latest styles, your lordship. Day trains are all the rage. Of course, only the wealthy wear them, which makes them a necessity for her. I’ve tried to explain that she must dress to her new station.”

Amber glared at the woman’s back.

She could see Jamie fighting to keep from showing some emotion. She just wasn’t sure which one. “Do you like it other than its impracticality?” he asked her.

“It’s very pretty, but—” She lifted the weight of the train in one hand. “I understand trains on ball gowns, I do, but this is ridiculous. Can you imagine how dirty it would get just walking from the door to the carriage?”

He held up a hand. “I see your point about the impracticality. Why pay street sweepers if ladies are cleaning the roads with their hems?”

Meara giggled. Amber found herself smiling, too. Jamie still didn’t seem to be taking the exchange lightly though he’d made the joke. “Suppose we do this.” He turned to the shopkeeper and handed her a card. “Box up the dresses I marked so far for Lady Adair. And this one, as well. Have them sent to that address.”

Amber sputtered, “But…Lily will have to press all these bows and—”

At the same time the woman also sputtered, “But Lord Adair, you said an entire wardrobe.”

He turned to Amber. “Do you think the ones so far have been as lovely as I do?”

“Yes, but it will be so much work to maintain such complex gowns.”

“Lily is employed to care for your clothing,” Jamie said. “Without you she would be unemployed and living a much less comfortable life. This will be perfect for a tea at home or perhaps a party in the garden. You needn’t wear it when we go about the city. I suggest we return to where we purchased the plum dress you’re wearing today.”

He turned to the shopkeeper then. “This will be all then, madam. We will need to continue our expedition elsewhere. I must say I am disappointed. I was told this was a place where my lady would find everything she needs.”

Minutes later they left a much-disappointed shopkeeper behind as they made their way to the carriage. Jamie went to speak to Gunter after handing her and Meara in. He climbed in as the driver mounted and got them moving.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have just let you buy what you thought I needed.”

“What have you to be sorry for? You looked exquisite in the gowns you’d tried on so far or I’d have cancelled the order and not just cut off our shopping there. I heard the way she spoke to you. You would be a lady of consequence in rags, Pixie. And not just because our marriage bestowed a title upon your head.”

Amber was grateful for his support and was much happier at the shop they both remembered so fondly. The proprietress managed to combine fine styling, workmanship and materials with common sense. She also sold girls’ dresses that matched some of Amber’s gowns. There were other dresses with trains, but none so elaborate as the rose gown.

Her favorite dress was a royal blue taffeta trimmed with black lace. The lace was sewn toward the bottom of the full skirt in a herringbone pattern, making a very smart design. The woman promised to alter it so the waist sat higher than usual to hide Amber’s blossoming shape.

Next he made sure they were both outfitted with shoes and hats and gloves at other shops. As with the gowns from the first shop they would mostly be delivered the next day. Jamie left her and Meara at a lingerie shop, having given instructions to supply both of them with an unnecessary number of high-quality items, turning basic needs into indulgences. Then he fled, heading, he said, for a shop just two doors down. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

As she and Meara giggled and selected a dizzying array of unmentionables, which the shopgirl had no problem mentioning, Amber realized she was having fun. Had been having fun since Jamie rescued her from the clutches of that first officious shop owner.

He’d made the day better than she’d thought possible. The trip that had instantly unsettled Amber when Mimm told her of Jamie’s plans had shifted from an embarrassing chore to a carefree romp.

She had, in fact, dreaded the entire day from the instant she’d opened her eyes. But then Lily and Meara had swept in, opening shades, giving good-morning
hugs respectively, which buoyed her heart. Jamie had finished the job by showing her that, in buying her things, he wasn’t trying to buy her affections, meet an obligation or class her up. He was trying to make up for not recognizing what was in his heart and not giving voice to it sooner.

When she stepped out on to the sidewalk, she saw that not surprisingly Jamie had gone to a jewelry shop. The man was positively obsessed with hanging things about her neck and wrists and from her ears.

Next they would be on their way to the restaurant, Maison Dorée, where Jamie hoped Alexander awaited them. Amber wasn’t sure whose version of Jamie’s cousin was right, Jamie’s or Mimm’s. It was all very confusing. Had Alexander come to bury the hatchet and become friends again? Or had he come to bury the proverbial hatchet in Jamie’s back?

Amber didn’t know, but she intended to watch carefully.

Chapter Twenty

S
eeing Jamie’s carriage near the end of the block where they’d begun their shopping, Amber took Meara’s hand and started that way. It was toward the end of the shopping day so there weren’t as many people around as when they’d gone inside although it was still a lovely, sunny afternoon. Oddly, a dilapidated-looking milk wagon with an even more disreputable-looking driver sat between their gleaming open carriage and the intimate apparel shop where they’d just been. She would have thought it the wrong time of the day for a milk wagon.

Meara was chattering about her pretty new nightgowns and how they were nearly the same as Amber’s. Amber, determined to resist the temptation of glancing inside the jewelers, kept her eyes on Meara to make sure she resisted, too.

As they passed the old milk wagon, Meara screamed in terror and her hand jerked out of Amber’s.

Amber pivoted in time to see Meara being tossed into the open back of the shabby wagon. Rushing forward
to rescue her, Amber realized her error as the man grabbed her. They were being kidnapped!

She screamed for help as she fought the burly, foul-smelling man, knowing they’d never be seen again if she meekly let them be taken. She drove the end of her closed parasol from under her arm hard into the man’s stomach. A deep, satisfying “oohff” burst into the air. Having taken the assailant by surprise, she got one arm free, but he didn’t loosen his hold on her other one.

He was big and ugly with a bald head. And strong. If anything his anger made him cling tighter as he dragged her inexorably closer to that open door. Meanwhile, he began shouting, “You whore. You hadn’t ought to have run off and taken me little girl with you. You’re coming home with me, bitch.”

To any fellow shoppers it sounded for all the world as if this was a domestic problem. Consequently no matter what she said no one there would help. So she decided to gather her breath and fight like hell. She tossed her head, trying to get enough momentum to pull away. Her hat pulled painfully on her hair, but the pain reminded her of another weapon at her disposal.

Her hatpin.

She made a grab for it with her free hand. Her hat flew off into the attacker’s face. He batted it away, but that gave her the time to position her thumb on the heavily jeweled end of the pin and get ready for a chance to use it. She was sure it would be her last chance to free her new daughter.

Meara, meanwhile, had started scrambling backward on her belly, trying desperately to get out of the wagon. The thug reached out, clearly intending to grab her and push her back inside, which was all the chance Amber
needed. Quick as a cat, she took advantage of his momentary distraction. Dragging the tip of the sharp pin across the back of the hand he’d reached out toward Meara, she laid the flesh open. He howled and pulled his hand off Meara, raising it to slap Amber.

Using his strength and momentum against him, she drove the pin into and through his palm as his hand swung toward her. He howled again.

Meara reached the ground and Amber shouted for her to run, but instead, with hell-to-pay in her blue eyes, the little girl turned and kicked the big ugly thug in the shin while screaming for her da to come help them.

Gunter was shouting and running toward them by then, as well as several men who’d realized the thug clearly wasn’t her husband or Meara’s father. Apparently knowing his mission had failed, the thug shoved her to the ground and turned to flee, shouting for his accomplice to run, as well.

Jamie, sprinting toward them from the jewelers, intercepted the attacker. He planted his fist into the man’s belly, then into his face. The thug toppled backward like a fallen tree. Then Gunter and the other men took charge of the downed would-be kidnapper and Jamie ran toward her and Meara.

Shaking and still sitting where she’d been pushed to the sidewalk, Amber hugged Meara in her lap. The poor child was quaking and crying and clinging all at once. Jamie reached them and knelt down, putting his arms around them both. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he crooned, but he sounded terribly rattled himself.

“Mum saved me from the bad man, Da. She’s the best mum in the world,” Meara told him as her tears began to subside.

“I think you saved each other, princess. As I was running toward you, I saw you kick that awful man a good one.”

“He was hurtin’ Mum! Are you okay, Mum?”

Trembling and trying to keep her voice even but failing, Amber said, “I am fine, my little warrior. Thank you for your assistance, but you should have run. You are too precious to your father and me to risk your safety.”

“I’d rather you were both safe,” Jamie said, his voice as unsteady as Amber’s sounded. He could have lost them. Lost everything. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of Amber’s head while rubbing Meara’s back to calm her.

“Thank you, Pixie,” he said when his heartbeat had settled a bit more. Having them safe in his arms helped.

Then Jamie started noticing things other than the two precious treasures in his arms. People had gathered, all sharing with each other what they’d seen and all of them proclaimed Amber a heroine. One man said the accomplice had stolen a horse. Someone shouted that the police were on their way.

And his injured shoulder burned like it was on fire. Jamie had no idea how he’d managed to plant that facer on the hoodlum. He supposed he never would know. His shoulder had been smarting all day and now it hurt even more. But somehow he hadn’t felt a thing except rage when he’d seen that miscreant with his hands on his wife and child.

“You were so smart and brave to find a way to delay him,” he said to Amber. “I’m sure your quick thinking saved the day.”

There was a new flurry of activity as the police arrived
with a wagon. The man was soon being handcuffed, loaded inside the wagon to be taken away. Perhaps he would provide a clue as to who exactly was involved in all of this. Though Jamie was sure who was behind it.

As the wagon passed, he raised his eyes and got a good look at the attacker for the first time. His was a face Jamie would never forget. The face of the man who’d killed Harry Conwell. So the bullet
had
been meant for Jamie. Last evening’s attack had not been random, either. Nor had today’s. But today’s had been against Amber and Meara. So what had changed? His heart stuttered. As of last night, his marriage and the baby were new information only to Alex.

“Sir,” a voice above said, “we need a statement. And we’ll need you to swear a complaint against the man we’ve taken into custody.”

Jamie looked up and stood. He scooped Meara up and stood her on her feet then helped Amber stand. He kept an arm around her and pulled Meara closer.

“Have you any idea what this was all about?” the officer asked.

He was terrified that he did. “I have an uncle in England who is next in line for my title. He would cheer at my demise. And now my wife carries a child who could be my heir. She is therefore possibly standing in the way of his succession. It is the only thing that makes sense.

“Also,” Jamie said, pointing at the wagon as it rounded the corner at the end of the block, “that man killed a man in New York in the winter of seventy-four. I can now only imagine the bullet was meant for me.”

The officer nodded gravely. “You folks will need to come to the precinct.”

Jamie nodded. “Should we meet you there, officer?”

The policeman frowned and shook his head. “I’ll ride along if you don’t mind. Another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt, eh? Just in case.”

Jamie agreed wholeheartedly. It looked as if he’d have to hire bodyguards. He’d thought Gunter would be enough, but he’d obviously been wrong.

Because the attendant paperwork at the police precinct was expected to take a while, he sent Gunter to Maison Dorée to see if Alex awaited them. He didn’t know what his being there would prove or not, but Jamie couldn’t condemn his cousin without further proof of guilt. But neither could he dismiss out of hand the evidence mounting against him. Amber and Meara’s safety depended on his being vigilant. On his protection.

 

They stepped out of the police precinct as the sun dropped behind the buildings, lending a chill to the day’s warmth. Alex stood talking with Gunter and turned to rush their way when Meara called out his name.

“Hello, sweeting. I hear you had a terrible scare.”

“It was bad scary, but Mum and me trounced him good. Da says we were brave.”

Alex nodded and looked at Jamie as he guided Amber down the steps. “Everyone is all right?” his cousin asked. “Has the man you caught given any information?”

Jamie eyed Alex. Had he imagined the anxiety in his voice? Was it worry of being implicated or worry for Meara and Amber? Hating the suspicion growing in his soul, Jamie tried desperately not to let it show on his face. He turned away and handed Amber, then Meara, into the front-facing seat of the carriage.

Once they were settled, and he was more composed, he turned back to Alex. “Thus far he’s said nothing,” Jamie told him. “But he’s facing murder charges in New York. The police think a night in a jail cell contemplating his fate if he’s extradited instead of a trial here on these charges may loosen his lips. Come morning they’ll offer a deal in exchange for information.”

“What happened exactly?” Alex asked.

“I was in another shop when Amber and Meara were headed to the carriage. He grabbed Meara first. Tossed her into a milk wagon like so much baggage, according to a bystander. They all thought it was a family affair and didn’t wish to get involved. When Amber tried to go to Meara’s aid, he made a grab for her, calling her vile names and shouting that she’d stolen his child. Thanks to her determination, Amber slowed him down. Gunter and I were on our way to help them and Meara began shouting for my help. He and the one ready to drive the wagon must have realized the bystanders were about to step in. They ran in different directions, but the one who’d grabbed them ran square into me. His accomplice got away.”

Alex looked deeply troubled for a moment, glancing into the carriage then back to him. “It isn’t like you to make enemies. Perhaps it’s all about money and they’d have asked for ransom.”

“I would think that had I not been attacked last night.” He sighed. “And seen this man kill a friend. I always feared the bullet was meant for me. Now I’m sure it was.

“Amber is exhausted. I need to get them home. Needless to say we won’t be celebrating tonight. That’s why I sent Gunter for you.”

“Of course. Perhaps you should send for her doctor.”

Jamie nodded. “Perhaps. Will you act as an out-rider for me?”

“Be honored, cuz. Let’s get your family home.”

Jamie nodded and climbed into the rear-facing seat.

They turned onto California Street some minutes later and the setting sun flashed into Jamie’s eyes. They had gone only a few hundred feet when Amber looked up at a roof and shouted for him to duck. All he could think was to protect them. He dove forward to cover Meara and Amber with his body. Two sharp reports in rapid succession echoed between the buildings.

The horses screamed in fright and took off at a gallop. Jamie pushed himself off Amber and Meara and turned to see why Gunter wasn’t in better control. But his eyes fell on Alex, who made a saluting motion as he wheeled his horse down the side street, leaving them to their own devices. Gunter had been shot and had dropped the ribbons. He seemed to be listing forward.

Jamie made a grab for him, keeping the big man in his seat, as he climbed over the seat back and up next to Gunter. Two drivers on cross streets just managed to pull their own teams up in time to avoid a collision. With no other option, Jamie leaped onto the back of the lead horse. After a few frantic moments during which he nearly slipped off and under their hooves, both animals finally slowed.

Now that the jangle of harnesses, the clatter of the hooves and the loud rumble of the wheels on the cobbles had ceased, Jamie could hear Meara shrieking in fear for him. “I’m fine, princess,” he shouted over his shoulder. “It’s all fine.” But that was a lie. He’d never lied to her before. Nothing was fine.

As he made a move to slip to the ground the horses
shifted nervously under him. “Whoa,” he heard Alex call out over the clatter of hooves. “What are you doing up there, cuz?” he asked and jumped down, taking hold of the horse’s head so Jamie could slide free.

His temper simmering, Jamie grabbed the ribbons and pulled them back toward Gunter to check him. He was holding his arm and blood seeped through his fingers, but he nodded and said, “Am fine. Am fine.”

He didn’t look fine and a glance at Amber and Meara’s pale faces said they weren’t fine, either. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” he demanded of Alex, stalking back to the front of the horses where his cousin stood holding their heads. “You rode off and left us! We’re lucky we weren’t all killed.”

Alex looked genuinely confused. “I saw that you were fine so I went after the gunman. I was sure Gunter would gain control of the team.”

“Gunter was shot, you imbecile. He dropped the ribbons.”

“I didn’t realize he’d been hit and certainly not that he’d dropped the ribbons. I’m sorry as I can be. And the blighter got away, besides. His horse was a good bit quicker than this city nag I hired. When I realized I couldn’t catch him, I broke off the chase.”

Jamie could only stare. Then Alex seemed to understand without him saying a word. “You can’t—” There was a world of emotions in his eyes, but all were suddenly unreadable to Jamie. “Oh, but of course you can. Life is not always black or white, cuz.” The mocking tone cut Jamie to the quick. Alex’s smile in the growing darkness shone white and sarcastic, finishing the job of destroying the one constant in Jamie’s life. It died a slow and painful death there on that deserted street. “I am the
spawn of Satan after all,” Alex said. He turned away and mounted. “I’ll send someone round for my things. It’s time I gave up.”

He mounted then and rode back past the carriage. His back unnaturally stiff, Alex stopped and stared down at Amber and Meara for a long, tense moment. Jamie was about to rush back to send him on his way, but Alex tipped his hat then rode off at breakneck speed. The deep shadows of the side street swallowed him in moments.

BOOK: His Californian Countess
10.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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