Ana Seymour (6 page)

Sean’s knock the next morning on the door that connected his room with Kate’s woke her from a sound sleep. Without opening the door, he asked her if she needed more water or anything else, and then told her that he would wait until she was ready to go down to breakfast. She dressed in the same clothes she’d worn the previous day, then quickly put her hair up in a roll and knocked a little timidly on Sean’s door. He opened it immediately, as if he’d been waiting just on the other side. They stood staring at each other self-consciously.

“You slept well?” he asked.

She nodded. “And you?”

He nodded.

After a moment she said, “I should go see to Caroline.”

He looked down at her breasts. “Do you need

to—ah—feed her before breakfast?”

Kate smiled. “I just need to
hug
her before breakfast. But she might be more insistent than that.”

“May I come, too?”

“Of course,” she answered, sounding surprised. Sean had not only become more distant as they’d neared San Francisco, he seemed to have become less sure of himself.

They walked together to the nursery to find Caroline already up, dressed and bouncing on Nonny’s knee as the old woman sat in the big padded rocker. “We were just discussing what time you slugabeds were going to
decide to make an appearance,” she said. “Caroline feels that she’s overdue for some breakfast.”

Kate blushed, but the twinkle in Nonny’s eyes put her once again at ease. “I should feed her,” she said. “Do you mind waiting for breakfast?” she asked Sean.

Nonny stood up, holding the baby in one arm and gesturing for Kate to take her seat in the rocker. “He has nothing to say about it, lass. It’s the first lesson that fathers have to learn. When babies need to eat, they come first.”

Sean nodded his agreement. “I think I’ve learned that one already.”

Kate took the baby and sat down, getting ready to nurse her. “Have you met with your parents yet?” Nonny asked Sean.

He shook his head. “We’ll go down when Kate’s finished.”

“Don’t let them bowl you over, girl,” Nonny warned. “Especially that hoity-toity daughter-in-law of mine. She likes to think she was raised in a castle in Paris, France, but I remember when my son found her singing for her supper in the mining camps when he made his strike back in ‘50.”

Sean shook his head but smiled as he said, “Mother would kill you if she knew you’d told Kate that story.”

“Well, it’s the truth. Thirty years ago most of these highfalutin folk who pretend such concern about using the right fork with their oysters were scrabbling in the mining camps for enough to eat.”

Kate opened her dress and let Caroline find her nipple. She was so fascinated by Nonny’s plain speaking
that she forgot to be self-conscious, even when Sean’s eyes glanced over her, then looked away.

“Well, you’d never know it now, to hear them talk,” Sean said.

Nonny turned toward Kate. “Just remember my words, lass, if some of them start to put on their airs. I wonder how many of them could have done what you did—birth and raise this beautiful child all by yourself.” She cast a reproachful glance toward Sean as she spoke.

“Thank you, Nonny, but I wasn’t by myself. I had a lot of wonderful help, especially from my sister, Jennie.”

“Ah, there’s love in your family. I can tell. You’re lucky, child. You and your sister both. I’d like to meet her someday.”

“I’d like that, too,” Kate said.

“Now I’ll leave you to finish up with your little one. And when you’re ready for breakfast, give me a call and she and I will go for a stroll.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Nonsense, child. I haven’t had this much fun since Harriet lost her wig at the Cotillion Ball.” She gave a low little laugh and left the room.

“Don’t your mother and grandmother get along?” Kate asked Sean, who was looking after Nonny with amusement.

His smile died as he turned back to her. “Mother can be…difficult sometimes.”

She sensed that there was more behind his words. “What will she say about us? And, um, Caroline and all?”

Sean sighed and looked up at the floral motif of the stamped tin ceiling. “I have no idea, Katie. But as soon as you finish there, we’ll go downstairs and find out.”

When Kate and Sean went downstairs, the senior Flahertys were still at breakfast, which was an elaborate meal set out in the imposing formal dining room. She and Sean entered through sliding mahogany doors to a table that could easily have seated all the miners Jennie fed every day up at the Wesley mine. A huge sideboard along one side of the room was crowded with silver dishes containing enough food to have fed the entire mine crew.

Kate tried not to let her awe show as she turned toward the couple sitting at the opposite end of the table. The man at the head was an older version of Sean, the black curls of his hair more than half gray. He stood immediately when they entered.

The woman seated on his right didn’t look old enough to be Sean’s mother at first glance. Her hair was bright red. Perhaps a little too bright, Kate decided after a moment. And her face was painted, artfully, not at all like the ladies one tried not to see when visiting the rougher areas of Virginia City, but painted nevertheless.

“Ah, there they are,” Patrick Flaherty said in a hearty voice that had only vague shadowings of Sean’s.

“Hello, Father, Mother.” Sean nodded to each of his parents. “I’d like you to meet my wife.”

“Where’s the child?” Harriet asked without directly acknowledging the introduction.

“Caroline’s upstairs with Nonny,” Sean answered smoothly. “I thought you’d like to get to know Kate first.”

“Of course we would,” his father answered. “But the poor girl’s probably starving after the trip. Get her some food, lad.” He gestured to the sideboard.

Kate was at a loss how to enter the conversation, since she was being discussed as if she weren’t even present. But she remembered Nonny’s words about intimidation and took a deep breath. “I’m so pleased to meet you both,” she said, her voice a little louder than normal. “And to be here. You have a beautiful home.”

Harriet squinted at her. Kate noticed that a pair of spectacles lay unused near her plate. “Let me see you, girl,” she said. Kate looked uncertainly at Sean and walked to the other end of the table, directly across from his mother. Harriet gestured for her to be seated, then looked over at Sean. “She’s pretty enough. Bring her a plate of food, Sean.”

Kate pulled out the heavy chair and sat down, aware of Sean clattering dishes behind her. “Not too much,” she cautioned.

“You don’t need to skimp on food here, girl,” Harriet said. “I daresay we throw away more every day than you had in a week up in the mountains where you came from.”

“How unfortunate,” Kate murmured, but she wasn’t sure if Harriet heard the remark.

“Sean told us you owned some sort of hotel,” Patrick said.

“Not exactly. My sister and I opened our home to boarders after our parents died.”

“You and your sister by yourselves?” Patrick asked.

Kate nodded. “We had no other way to pay the bills.”

Harriet scrunched her face in distaste, crinkling the powder at the edges of her mouth. “What kind of boarders?”

“Silver miners. There was a shortage of housing for them in Vermillion after the strike at the Wesley mine.”

Harriet shot a significant glance from Kate to her son, who had put a plate in front of Kate and was preparing another for himself. “You two young girls took in transient
males?”

Kate had the same sensation she’d had when she’d been forced to explain her unexpected pregnancy to Henrietta Billingsley back in Vermillion. She felt the hair bristle at the back of her neck. “We’ve had the same three miners living there for over a year. They’re fine men. And then we had the town district attorney move in. He’s a lawyer, of course, educated at
Harvard.
He married my sister.”

Even Harriet looked impressed at this and suddenly seemed to realize that her interrogation was sounding unfriendly. She gave a thin-lipped smile. “I just mean that it must have been difficult for you…two unprotected women taking in strange men.”

Sean pulled out the chair next to Kate with a noisy scrape and interrupted his mother. “I think we should
let Kate eat her breakfast before it gets cold,” he said as he sat next to her.

Patrick pulled a watch from his vest pocket. “I need to be getting down to the office.”

“I should leave, too,” Harriet said, folding her napkin carefully and pushing back her chair. “I’m due at the dressmaker’s at ten.”

“I thought I could bring Caroline down to meet you,” Sean said

“We’ll see the child this evening,” Patrick said briskly. “I expect you’ll be down at the office shortly, son?”

Sean nodded. “As soon as I see that Kate and Caroline are settled in.”

Patrick stood. “Nice to meet you, miss,” he said to Kate with an impersonal nod. Then he strode out of the room without bothering to take leave of his wife.

Harriet seemed not to notice. “Perhaps you could drive me to Madame Lavalier’s, Sean, if you can finish up your breakfast quickly.”

Sean looked over at Kate, then down at his still-full plate. “All right. Just give me five minutes.”

“I’ll go get my shawl,” Harriet said, then turned another brittle smile on Kate. “Make yourself at home, dear. If you need anything, just let one of the servants know.”

Kate forced a smile in return as her mother-in-law left the room. What a strange welcome. If Sean’s parents were any indication, life on Nob Hill would be far different than the warmth of Sheridan House. She did not mind so much for herself, but she was worried about how this cold atmosphere would affect her
daughter. It had taken her all of thirty seconds to determine that the one thing Caroline would not have in the midst of this Nob Hill luxury was doting grandparents.

“Do you mind if I leave you today?” Sean asked. “I’ve really been away from work longer than I should.”

Kate shook her head. “No, it sounds as if your father needs you.”

Sean gave a humorless laugh. “I doubt that But he’ll check to be sure I make an appearance. What will you do today?”

“I’ll unpack my things, and then perhaps Caroline and I will explore the neighborhood a little.”

“Be careful where you go. You’re in the big city now, not Vermillion.”

She smiled at him, pleased that he’d asked about her day and that he was concerned about her. Perhaps her strange feelings were just due to the newness of it all. Once she and Sean had time to adapt to their life here, things would be all right.

“I’ll be careful,” she assured him with a smile. And when he leaned over to kiss her softly on the mouth before he left the room, her smile turned into a gentle glow that lasted most of the morning.

T
he taste of Kate’s hps lingered on Sean’s all through the trip down to the wharf where Flaherty Enterprises had its main warehouse and offices. He’d dropped his mother off at her dressmaker’s along the way, mostly ignoring her inane conversation about which of her friends had imported what new piece of ostentatious adornment from what castle in Europe. Mansion building had become an obsession among the Nob Hill elite, and Sean found the topic thoroughly boring.

His mother had made no mention at all of Kate or the baby. Of course, she’d known his marriage was a possibility before he left to return to Vermillion, but he’d suspected at the time that she was praying that he wouldn’t go though with the plan. Now that he’d come home with his wife and child, he hoped she would be willing to make the best of the situation. He knew she’d wanted to marry him to one of the pretty young debutantes who were dutifully paraded by their mothers at all the best parties. But he’d made his decision, and she would have to accept it.

As he mounted the steps of the imposing stone Flaherty
Building, he felt the beginnings of the familiar dull ache in his stomach. He’d been coming to work here for four years, ever since returning from college in New York, but he still felt the tension each time he entered.

It had been an attempt to escape that sick feeling that had sent him up into the mountains almost two years ago. Against his parents’ wishes, he’d gone there with another frustrated son of one of their Nob Hill neighbors. The two young men had determined to find their
own
Comstock lode and show their families that they were just as capable as their fathers. But instead of a Comstock lode, they’d barely been able to eke out enough ore to buy food. Charles Raleigh had given up first, returning to work in his father’s watch factory. And when Sean had used up all his cash and began receiving increasingly harsh telegrams from his father, he’d also surrendered his dream. He’d headed home impulsively, too embarrassed at his failure to face the beautiful young girl who had been the only thing that had made his mountain adventure palatable.

He’d left Kate a note and some flowers. And a baby. Lord, it was a miracle she didn’t hate him.

“Nice to see you back, Mr. Sean.” Clarence Applewhite had been chief clerk at Flaherty Enterprises since Sean was a child. He couldn’t remember when the skinny, white-haired man had begun calling him
Mister
Sean. It had been years now.

“Thank you, Mr. Applewhite. It’s nice to be here.”

But it wasn’t. He started down the long corridor to his father’s big office at the front of the building overlooking
the wharf. Sean’s own office was windowless, tucked away in the back corner.

Patrick Flaherty was with two of the company’s fleet captains, men Sean had met many times but who had never seemed to consider him as anything more than a kid. They were seafaring men, with hearty laughs and rough language, not the type to worry about treating the owner’s son with some kind of false respect. Neither one stood when Sean entered the office.

“My son’s back.” Patrick said, stating the obvious. Sean was surprised to note that he sounded pleased.

“You been digging up the Sierras again, lad?” one of the captains asked. “Strike it rich this time, did ya?”

Sean straightened the knot on his tie. More than anyone else in his father’s employ, the sea captains always made him feel as if he could never make it in a real man’s world. He could speak French and quote Virgil, but to them he was still a boy, working at his father’s whim.

“He brought back something more valuable than silver this time, Captain Lawford,” Patrick answered. “A wife. Right pretty one, too.”

Both captains looked at Sean in surprise. “A wife, eh?” Captain Lawford spoke again. “Good for you, lad. Congratulations.”

“Aye, congratulations,” said the other man briefly. Then he turned back to Patrick. “We’ll see what we can find out about that alternate route, Mr. Flaherty. I’d like to give it a try before winter sets in.”

“As would I,” Captain Lawford agreed and added
with a grin, “Campbell and I could make a race of it.”

Both men seemed to have forgotten Sean’s presence entirely. “Keep me informed,” Patrick said, standing up to signify that the interview was at an end. “For now, I need some time with my boy.”

The captains turned around as if surprised to find Sean still standing there. “Of course,” said Lawford. The men shuffled to their feet and started out of the room. Lawford clapped Sean on the back as he passed. “Good job, boy. High time you were raising a family to uphold the Flaherty name.”

Patrick sat back down when the captains had departed. He motioned Sean into the room. “Sit down, son. Now that your mother’s not here busting her stays trying to figure out your wife’s pedigree, you and I can talk.”

Sean smiled and took the chair opposite his father. Oddly enough, it was the only place in the whole building he felt comfortable. He’d never liked his own cramped quarters, and whenever he was dealing with others in the company he always had the impression that they were too aware that he was the boss’s son. But he and his father had had some of their best discussions sitting just like this, across from each other in the big, sunny office. Somehow it was easier to talk to his father away from the claustrophobic atmosphere of the Flaherty mansion.

“I’m not worried about Kate’s pedigree,” Sean said. “But I’m afraid Mother’s not going to find it up to her standards.”

“You’re the one who’s married to her, not your
mother,” his father said “The important thing is for you and Kate to be happy together. It’s not an easy thing to achieve.”

Sean knew that his father’s sigh was the closest he would ever admit to being unhappy with his own marriage. “I’m going to do my best,” he said. “I just hope I can make up to her all she’s been through in the past year and a half. She almost died having Caroline.”

Patrick twisted his head to look out at the distant boats. “Well, now, there’s not much you can do about that, is there? If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t relive the past. And regrets don’t help much, either “

“I suppose.”

They were silent for a long moment. Then Patrick reached into his desk, took out a ledger and began writing. “Here. Take this to the bank and get yourself some cash to buy her some pretty new clothes. Women like that.”

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about buying clothes for her.”

Patrick finished writing the draft, waved it in the air to dry, then handed it across the desk to Sean. “Ask your mother’s woman. That Frenchie. Get some things for the baby, too. And a bauble of some sort. A necklace or something. Women like that.”

Sean slowly reached for the money. “I should at least put in a day’s work to earn this before I go spend it,” he said with a rueful smile.

“Don’t worry about it. Tomorrow’ll be time enough for you to get back to your desk.”

Sean hesitated. Next week would be time enough,
for all the use he was. Next year. He folded the check and put it into his pocket. “Thank you, Father,” he said, standing.

“Don’t mention it,” Patrick said briskly, reaching for the papers on his desk. “Buy her something pretty “ Then he waved his son out of the room.

For once Sean was happy to see his mother. After cashing his father’s draft, he’d returned to Madame Lavalier’s, wondering how he was going to figure out something appropriate for his wife. He’d been relieved to find his mother still there, poring over plans for her winter wardrobe with the dressmaker and one of her assistants. When he explained his mission, his mother had plucked the money out of his hand and sent him off, assuring him that she would take charge of some new finery for Kate.

“And goodness knows, the girl needs it,” she’d added. “She looked as if she’d slept in that dress all the way from the mountains.”

“We hadn’t brought up her trunk yet,” Sean explained, but his mother went on without pause.

“And she’s
still
feeding the baby? That will have to stop immediately. She’ll be as big as a cow before you know it.”

Sean looked uncomfortable. “I think that’s Kate’s decision, Mother.”

She laughed and said to a fawning Madame Lavalier, “Men aren’t expected to understand these things, are they? We’ll take the poor girl in tow, won’t we, my dear madame?”

And the dear madame had assured Sean that, indeed,
they would. Sean was not at all sure that Kate would want to be “taken in tow,” but at least it relieved him of the responsibility for the time being. And since his father had freed him of his duties for the day, he decided that he’d head over to the Golden Garter and see if he could get into a game. At the moment, a drink and an impersonal, undemanding hand of cards sounded very close to heaven.

“You say Sean meant for me to have these things?” Kate looked with dismay at the three frilly dresses her mother-in-law had brought into her bedroom.

“Gifts for his new bride, he said. Sean always was a generous boy,” Harriet answered.

Kate bit her lip and held one of the frocks up against her. “They’re, ah, very nice, but I’m not sure they’ll fit.”

“The madame will make any alterations necessary. She’ll be here in the morning for fittings.”

Kate put the dress down on her bed and picked up the puffy white object that looked like a pillow in the shape of a crescent.”What’s this?” she asked.

Harriet clucked her tongue in exasperation. “That’s your bustle, my dear. We need to work on your shape a bit.”

Kate had never thought much about her shape one way or another, but she remembered Sean’s comment on how slender she was. The fuller curves of the ladies she’d seen walking along the streets as they drove into town were evidently what the men liked these days. She held it at her waist, her face doubtful.

Harriet reached over and pulled the garment out of
her hands. “It goes on the derriere, like this. And we really should get you a new corset, too, now that you’ll undoubtedly want to wean the child.”

Kate looked at her mother-in-law with surprise. “Wean her?”

Harriet lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “Now, my dear, it’s simply
not done
to keep up this long. It’s not healthy, you know. And your figure will be an utter wreck “

Kate nodded vague agreement. In the mountains women often nursed their babies until they were two or three years old. Evidently they did things differently in the big city. Or at least. on Nob Hill.

“Perhaps you could don one of the new frocks for supper this evening,” Harriet continued. “I’m sure that would please Sean. Do you want me to send my maid to help you dress?”

The clothes were much more complicated than anything Kate had ever tried to wear, but the idea of requiring a servant to dress her was repugnant. “I’ll manage,” she said. “Thank you for bringing them to me.”

“Thank your
husband,
dear.”

Kate nodded, waiting until her mother-in-law left the room to seize one of the new dresses and stalk over to the cheval mirror in the corner of the room. “I can’t believe Sean would have chosen such a thing for me,” she said aloud to her reflection. But maybe she was wrong. She looked down at the comfortable, simple cotton gown she’d been wearing all day. Maybe now that they were back in Sean’s society, he wanted
her to look like the wealthy daughters of the San Francisco elite.

She peered once again into the mirror, screwing up her face in distaste. The dress had endless rows of ruffles going every which way up and down the bodice and skirt. The sleeves were poofed out to ridiculous proportions. And a
bustle.
Why would anyone want to make their rear end stick out like that?

Kate sighed and put the gaudy purple creation on the bed while she began to unbutton her gown. She’d feel ridiculous going down to supper in it, but she’d wear it nonetheless. It was Sean’s gift to her, and if it would put a smile on Sean’s face, she’d go to supper in a flour sack.

Sean remembered the crawling feeling he’d had in his stomach when he’d read Jennie’s letter about the baby and realized what Kate had had to go through after he’d abandoned her so cavalierly. He had a similar feeling now as he mounted the steps to the Flaherty mansion. Reaching the top, he leaned unsteadily for a moment on one of the cement lions that flanked the front door. He was trying to decide what story he could offer to excuse his absence on Kate’s very first night with his parents.

It was past midnight. If he was lucky, Kate would be asleep and he wouldn’t have to face her until morning. He wrapped his arms around the lion’s mane. Many of his mother’s elaborate embellishments to their house had seemed foolish to him as a lad, but he’d always loved these lions. Through the years they’d sat stoically guarding the threshold, unmoving,
undaunted by summer heat or winter rains. Unlike all the other household adornments, which came and went at his mother’s whim or the latest fashion, there was a permanence to them that he found comforting.

“Shall I sleep out here with you, Leo?” he asked aloud, the words slightly slurred. He’d named the two mascots Leo and Lily years ago, before he’d been old enough to know that the only lions with manes were male.

Leo made no reply, but neither did he make any objection to having his head clutched by a shameless drunk, so all things considered he was probably a better companion at the moment than anyone on the inside of the house.

Sean rested his head on top of the lion’s. What a wretch he was. He should at least have been there to introduce his parents to Caroline. How could he expect them to accept this grandchild who had appeared in their world so abruptly if he wasn’t even around to champion her cause? He straightened up, still holding the statue for balance. “I’m a skunk, Leo,” he told the stone head. “Do you like skunks?”

Once again the lion kept his own counsel. Sean shrugged and turned toward the door. “I’m sorry, Kate,” he said, before opening it. “You’ve made yourself a poor bargain.”

The knock on the connecting door was hesitant, but loud enough to awaken Sean, even from his whiskeyfogged sleep. For a moment he couldn’t remember how he had arrived back in his own bed, but then the
previous evening came flooding back, right up to his doorstep discussion with Leo the lion.