Born of Treasure (Treasure Chronicles Book 2) (22 page)

“I am.” She tipped her head. “Please ring my uncle. I’ve had a mishap and would prefer no one see me like this.”

“Of course, ma’am.” He lifted an object shaped like a crescent moon off the desk. A wire connected it back to the wood, with a plate of number buttons beside it. The man pressed four numbers and the crescent moon beeped. “Albert Treasure, your niece is in the lobby with… two gentlemen.”

Clark bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Given his state of dishevelment, “gentleman” sounded too generous. He could’ve enlightened the man on a few more colorful words to add to his vocabulary.

The crescent moon beeped again and a male’s voice sounded from it. “Send them up.”

“Hi, Uncle Albert,” Amethyst shouted.

The man hung up the device. “Go on up. We’re glad to have you back, Miss Treasure.”

“Pleased to be back.” She bounced past him through a doorway. Her demeanor had switched back to the Amethyst Clark had first met, the one who said outrageous things for attention and seemed to float everywhere.

The new room contained drawers, each labeled with names, and three doors.

“Mailboxes.” She pointed at the drawers as she pranced to the doors. She knocked on the first and the door slip open to reveal a room the size of a closet. Another man in a suit stood inside.

“Which floor?” he intoned.

Amethyst stepped inside and they followed her. Red velvet carpeted the floor and mirrors reflected their images off the walls. The man rested his hand on a lever near a panel of lights, dials, and buttons.

“Sixteenth floor.” Amethyst smoothed her skirt.

“What is this?” Clark began as the door shut. The man turned a dial then pressed a button, making the panel light up mauve. He turned the lever and the closet jerked.

Clark’s stomach churned and he grabbed the brass railing that stretched across the back wall.

“This is a lift,” Zachariah said in a monotone. “It carries you between floors.”

“Eric probably invented it.” Amethyst winked.

“Who’s Eric?” Zachariah asked.

“No one.” She rolled her eyes again as if it was obvious.

Clark gripped the railing so tight it bit into his fingers. His stomach churned and his head spun. “Is this the only way to go between floors?”

“You don’t expect us to walk up sixteen flights, do you?” Once again, another eye roll from Amethyst.

The closet jerked and Clark stumbled. The man pulled the lever again and the door swung open. Clark practically ran into the hallway.

Like the lift, velvet carpeted the floor. A mirror reflected them from above a table set with a vase of lilies.

“Uncle Albert owns the entire floor, so he doesn’t have a door. The only way to get to it is from the lift. Well, there is a door for the stairs, but no one uses it. He allows the servants to use the lift.” Amethyst raised her voice. “Uncle Albert, we’re here!”

The lift shut and a mechanical purr faded as it dropped back to the first floor.

An elderly man turned the corner to the foyer. A gray beard decorated his wrinkled face, matching the thinning, slicked hair. “Amethyst, honey. Welcome home.” Tears shone in his blue eyes; a white cloud floated across his right one, but his left remained clear.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “I’ve missed you. Are you healthy?”

Clark stepped back to the wall and folded his arms, leaning back on one leg. Amethyst never smiled at her parents with that warmth. She never touched them, but she slid her arm through her uncle’s and tipped her forehead to his. With his back bent and his height shortened with age, they stood at eyelevel with each other.

She’d never mentioned her uncle, but Clark could see the love she had for the elderly man as though it were palpable.

It had always bothered him how much she fought her parents about staying in the west, but she’d followed Clark eagerly into a life there. She didn’t hate Hedlund, not like how she portrayed to her family. She hated leaving her uncle.

“I wish Uncle Albert could’ve come,” she’d mentioned once during supper at the ranch.

“He’s too old now,” her father had sighed. “He’s happier in his house. He has that wonderful nurse to look after him.”

“You could’ve invited him,” she’d muttered. Clark hadn’t paid attention to it then, but the words fluttered back. She’d yearned for her great-uncle, the parent she’d grown up with, to accompany her. Maybe her uncle had even been hurt that he hadn’t been invited.

“Hello, Uncle Albert.” Zachariah held out his hand, his mouth in a half-smile, even though his gaze remained dull.

The uncle held out his arm as though to hug his great-nephew, but when Zachariah didn’t step forward, Albert shook his hand instead. “How have you been, Zach?”

“Fine.”

Albert chuckled. “That was a silly comment on my part, wasn’t it, honey?”

Amethyst giggled. “It will make a ravishing story though, won’t it? Are my parents here yet?”

“Of course. How else would I be expecting you?” He brushed a curl off her face. “This is Clark?”

Clark bowed. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m pleased to meet you.”

“My gears, you look just like Eric Gri—” Albert choked on the word and coughed, his cheeks flushed. “Never mind, a lapse of an old man’s mind.”

Albert had known Clark’s father. He must’ve seen Eric with Garth. Garth and Georgette must’ve told Albert the truth about his parentage.

“Call me Uncle Albert.”

“Eric who?” Zachariah pressed. Did he remember what Amethyst had said on the lift?

“My dear, you look awful.” Albert leaned against her as though it pained him to stand on his own. “We’ll clean you children up and have dinner.”

Garth rounded the corner. “We’d hoped you’d arrive two days ago, but we know how the stagecoaches are never on time.”

“We were attacked,” Zachariah said.

“You should’ve seen Clark fight back,” Amethyst gushed to her uncle. “It was amazing. I’ll tell you all about it later. Let me take you to the sitting room. I’ll get you some hot tea. It’s afternoon, so will chamomile work?”

“Everyone’s safe,” Clark told Garth before the man worried.

The flighty Amethyst had been replaced by one who cared and tended to her elderly relative. Clark had wondered how distant the uncle could be that he didn’t mind her staying out at parties or visiting clubs. Albert might not have known if, when at home, she put him above all else.

“Uncle Albert has arranged a meeting for us with the president,” Garth said. “We’ll see him after lunch tomorrow.”

methyst linked her arm through her uncle’s and added a skip to her step. He laughed, rapping his cane against the sidewalk.

“Well done, my dear. Someone is perky.”

“Of course.” She tightened her grip on him as they passed a crack in the sidewalk. Clark dogged their heels, ogling the surroundings. Her parents and Zachariah had gone out to buy clothes separately. Amethyst had wanted to go with Clark—he didn’t know his way around New Addison City, after all—and her uncle had wanted to meet him more officially. The family used his account, since they technically had nothing.

“Soon, everything will be back to normal,” Amethyst sang. “We’ll all be free of the army. Mother and Father can go home. Clark, I’m going to show you all around the east.”

“Charming.” He sounded distracted, his voice distant.

“My friends own sailboats,” Uncle Albert offered. “We’ll take you sailing, Eric. I mean Clark.” He coughed. “My apologies, you look like an old friend of Garth’s.”

“Everyone says that.” Amethyst giggled.

She halted outside of Subject Case, the largest store in the city. Eight floors offered everything imaginable to buy. Clothes came in a variety of sizes, and they also had seamstresses on staff to make alterations.

“Uncle Albert, you’ll help Clark pick out his clothes? He needs the best fashion.”

“Right away.” Uncle Albert took Clark’s arm to lean on him rather than on Amethyst. “What time should we meet in the main lobby?”

Amethyst glanced at the giant clock outside the tall brick building. “One hour. Father and Mother will want to be on time to meet with the president.”

She refrained herself to a striped dress. Once her parents settled everything with the government and she knew their plans, she could purchase a new wardrobe accordingly.

“Clark!” Amethyst gasped, clutching the box of her old clothes. He’d been stunning before, but her uncle had outdone his fashion sense. Clark’s hair had been tied back in a queue beneath a top hat with a red silk ribbon. His black suit shone, with a red vest and white blouse beneath, along with a blue cravat. White silk gloves decorated his hands and a brass pocket watch twinkled from his front pocket.

She leapt into his arms and kissed his check, laughing. “You’re dashing! I can’t wait to introduce you to my friends.”

Her uncle cleared his throat and she blushed, realizing what it must look like to him.

“Good job, Uncle Albert.”

“Show her the cane, my boy.” Her uncle’s blue eyes twinkled.

Grinning, Clark lifted his polished cane with the silver eagle’s head handle. “It shoots from the bottom and can act as a sword. An old friend of your father’s invented it.”
Eric
, Clark mouthed.

“Your father, too,” Uncle Albert noted.

That invention had to be mild compared to the others, since they hadn’t been sent to retrieve all of those. She glanced around the lobby at the women mingling around the cosmetic counters. Had Eric followed them to the city?