Love Everlasting (11 page)

He wiped the tear from her cheek. “Do you forgive me for making you feel bad?”

“I made myself feel bad, Wade. All day long I've made myself quite miserable, especially when I saw Clara flirting with you. I knew I was being difficult and there was nothing pleasant about me. But even so, I wanted to pull her chair out from under her.”

He couldn't help but laugh. “You were jealous?”

Abrianna nodded. “I suppose that's the only word for it. As I said, I've been quite overcome by one feeling or another. Another of my shortcomings, I'm sure.”

Wade leaned down without touching her and kissed her on the nose. “Silly girl. You never need to be jealous of any other
woman. My heart has belonged to you for longer than I can even remember, and it will always be yours.”

Abrianna reached up and drew his face down to meet hers. It was the first time she'd initiated a kiss, and Wade didn't want to do anything to discourage her. Gently he encircled her with his arms.

“I love you so dearly,” she whispered, pressed her lips to his, then eased away. But changing her mind, she pulled him close again and kissed him with more passion. She sighed and let him go.

“January tenth seems a perfectly nice day for a wedding. It's a Friday, and we could have a lovely morning service here at the house with just our friends and family.”

He smiled and felt a charge rush through him. “That sounds good to me.”

Abrianna met his gaze and smiled in return. “Just remember, you promised me we would have fun.”

Laughing, Wade nodded. “Indeed, I did.”

P
riam Welby pressed the tips of his steepled fingers together as he sat at his desk and considered a plan to force Abrianna Cunningham into marriage. That young woman was complex, to be sure. Where most women could be cowed or forced, Abrianna was unmoved. Even so, she had her vulnerabilities, and Welby knew those at least in part. Her family was uppermost in importance to her, as well as that Ackerman fellow. Given this knowledge, Welby felt he had a good start on a plan. If he threatened the well-being of the people she loved, Abrianna Cunningham would yield to save them.

He smiled. It was really too simple. He could affect a few accidents that threatened the lives of those dottering old ladies, perhaps even claim the lives of one or two to get his point across. Or he could cause her father to be arrested. After all, the old man had quite a history. Welby had put a man on investigating Cunningham's existence prior to coming to Seattle. It hadn't been difficult, even though the man went by the name Jay Bowes for a time. Cunningham had a history of brawling and letting his fists settle disputes. He also spent most of his adult life in prison. And while the punishment had been for a
crime Cunningham hadn't committed, Welby knew he could use all of this to his advantage.

The key to his plan was to start first with observation and follow up with action. It was no different from the plans he'd used to rob his father. He'd started with observation, learned whom his father trusted and how his businesses were handled, and then systematically Welby bought off each and every man. They were his puppets now, and his father was completely clueless that he was about to fall over a cliff of financial ruin.

Welby leaned back in his chair. It was most satisfying to imagine the day when he would announce to his father and all of his cronies that the supposedly worthless son of Vernon Welby had become quite rich and powerful. So powerful that he ruined his father's social standing and living. The desire for that moment was like a palatable taste in his mouth. The urgency for satisfaction drove him forward day after day, and no matter the problems at hand, Welby always knew that this one goal would see him through any problem. Some thought him crazy, but few said so to his face. And those who had weren't going to ever say anything ever again. Welby smiled. Power was intoxicating.

“Boss, here are those plans you've been waiting for. I have to say you were right about using the fire to your advantage. There have been some choice pieces of property we've managed to buy. You're gonna be the most powerful man in Seattle.”

Welby smiled. “What do you mean going to be? I already am.”

His lackey, Carl, nodded with a laugh. “You sure are. Folks know better than to mess with you.”

“So what else can you tell me?”

“Well, we have all the permits, and the first supply of bricks are on the dock waiting for delivery.” He handed Welby the papers and waited for instruction.

“Perfect. You know what to do.” Welby looked over the final drawings of what would become Seattle's finest brothel. “No matter what else happens, we must keep my identity from being known. I'm building a powerful reputation as a law-abiding, albeit cunning, businessman.” He looked up with a grin. “This lovely . . . hotel must remain the property of one Mr. Peter Bishop, wealthy investor from New York City.”

Carl smiled and nodded. “Sure thing, boss. Ain't nobody gonna know you're really the owner. We got 'em eatin' outta your hands.”

Welby put the drawings aside. “Now report to me about Miss Cunningham.”

The younger man's lip curled in a suggestive sneer. “Always did enjoy that piece of work.”

“Watch what you say,” Welby replied in a rather cold manner. “That piece of work is soon to be my wife.”

“Sorry, boss.” Carl looked momentarily uncomfortable. “Didn't mean to offend.”

Welby nodded. “Do go on. Tell me what you've learned.”

“Well, she sticks pretty close to home these days. She does go for walks down to the Booth place and sometimes takes walks to the park with that Ackerman fellow. She likes to get away to the farthest spot on the estate to just sit by herself. I've seen her out there several times.”

“And what of the others?”

“Well, Ackerman and her father live in the carriage house, as best I can tell. Used to be another fellow and his wife lived in the house, but they're not there anymore. The old ladies live on the second floor. That's where most of the bedrooms are, but there are also some on the third floor off the ballroom. Storage is up there, as well.”

“And how did you learn all of this?”

“I did what you suggested. I snuck in after they all left for church. I nearly got caught. They have a pretty little Chinese maid who doesn't go out at all. She was busy in the kitchen, so I had to be real quiet. Weren't a problem though.”

“Very well. Keep watch on Abrianna. If she does anything unusual, or if anything in particular seems of interest to her, I want to know about it right away.”

“Happy to oblige,” Carl said. He left Welby, humming to himself.

Priam knew the man had an eye for the females and he would have to make certain Carl knew better than to tamper with Abrianna. He wouldn't see her handled by anyone save himself. Of course there was no way of knowing what had already gone on between her and Mr. Ackerman. Those two spent an awful lot of time together, and now they were for all purposes under one roof. He figured those aunts of hers kept a pretty tight rein on the girl, but Abrianna was seemingly untamable. He was going to enjoy breaking her in.

Abrianna handed Flora several books. “These are some of my all-time favorites. I think you'll enjoy them, as well.”

“I love to read. Especially romantic stories.” Flora's dreamy smile accentuated the point. “I suppose I'm rather daffy when it comes to them.”

Abrianna grew thoughtful. “I don't know what to think of that word. Daffy. It makes me think of daft, so I suppose it works. Mercy, but have you noticed all the new slang words that have come into our everyday language? Aunt Miriam positively had a fit the other day when Kolbein commented on how he
and Lenore learned to play a Japanese card game that was quite a ‘corker.' ‘Corker' was not at all an acceptable term, to Aunt Miriam's way of thinking.”

“I suppose it depends on the card game. What was it?”

“Something called Hanafuda. Cards alone are enough to put Aunt Miriam on her guard. She never has allowed for any kind of card game, but Kolbein— Mr. Booth—pointed out that this game was not a card game of numbers for the purpose of gambling. Apparently these are cards printed on mulberry tree bark, of all things, and they are painted with various images. I really know very little other than the fact that Mr. Booth said the man responsible was in the process of incorporating his company and planned to sell cards in America. The company is called Nin-ten-do something or other. Oh yes, Nintendo Koppai. I thought it a very pretty name. Aunt Poisie thought Nintendo would be a good name for a cat. She would like us to get another, since Buddy ran away.”

“How interesting. How is it that Mr. Booth knows about such things? Has he been to Japan?”

“Apparently his law offices have some connection to the man and his business. I know little else. The game sounded quite interesting, but don't let Aunt Miriam hear you call it a corker.”

Flora giggled. “I won't, and I won't use the word
daffy
around her either.”

“It's better that way,” Abrianna admitted.

“Do you think Miss Poisie will really name a cat Nintendo?”

Abrianna sighed and began pulling pins from her messy coif. “If she does, I don't know if Aunt Miriam will ever agree to it.”

“Maybe she could call the cat . . . Corker.”

Abrianna laughed at this. “Perhaps.” Her cinnamon curls fell down to her waist. The long sunny days of summer had kissed
her hair with golden streaks that shimmered when caught in the lamplight. “I swear I have more trouble with my hair. Nothing ever wants to stay where it's supposed to be. And look, it's only just past noon. I can't even make it through the day.”

“Let me help. You have to learn to use your curls to your advantage,” Flora said, coming to Abrianna's aid. She began pulling and twisting until she had Abrianna's hair neatly piled atop her head once again. “My hair isn't curly like yours, but it does have a strong wave. Mama taught me first thing that I could use this to assist in dressing my hair. There. Now you are perfectly respectable.”

“It's a good thing you've come to share my room.” Abrianna smiled at her image in the mirror. “Not only have you been good company, but now you benefit me with this.”

A knock sounded on the bedroom door. Abrianna rose. “At least I'm presentable, thanks to you, dear Flora.” She opened the door to find Liang's smiling face.

“Missy Lenore is here to see you.”

“Thank you, Liang. Is she in the parlor?”

“Yes. I bring tea?”

Abrianna nodded. “That would be fine.” She cast a glance back at Flora. “I suppose Aunt Miriam has something for you to be about, otherwise I would ask you to join us.”

Flora sighed and nodded. “I'm supposed to learn to quilt. Something was said about learning to stitch in the ditch, but I haven't a clue what that means.”

“It means you cannot take tea with me. I will pray for you instead. Quilting was never my strong suit.” Abrianna frowned. “Actually there is very little related to housekeeping and such that was my strong suit. I fear poor Wade will suffer once he's married to me.”

With a frown, Flora squared her shoulders and preceded Abrianna out the door. “It is such a trial to be a woman training to be a bride. Do you suppose men ever have such ordeals to go through?”

Abrianna followed her down the hall. “I don't believe they do. I am convinced they have no idea of what it takes to keep a household. Most probably think it like the cobbler's shoes, that elves come at night and set everything right.”

Flora paused at the top of the stairs. “I wouldn't be surprised at all if that was exactly how they thought.”

Making her way downstairs, Abrianna put aside her sympathies for Flora and thought instead of Lenore. She made her way to the parlor where Lenore was already seated. Her pregnancy was becoming more evident, especially given the new fashions she had taken to wearing. Abrianna could clearly see the changes in her friend's body.

“You look so lovely.” Abrianna stopped to stare at her friend. “I do believe this state becomes you.” Lenore was dressed immaculately in a silver-blue walking suit trimmed in black edging and completed with a lacy white blouse. She sported a matching hat that had an arrangement of white ostrich feathers.

“I do, as well.” Lenore put her hand to her side. “Although I walked here much too quickly and now have a stitch in my side.”

“Aunt Selma says there's nothing that helps a body like apple cider vinegar. Would you like me to get some?”

“No. I'm sure it will pass.”

Abrianna took a seat across from Lenore. “I asked Liang to bring tea. That might help to relax you.”

Lenore nodded. “I am already much better.” She smiled. “So have you been giving more thought to your wedding?”

“I have. Although there have been many things to interrupt my thoughts.”

“Such as?”

Abrianna shook her head. “Where to begin? Well, Aunt Miriam is arranging a greenhouse to be built for the purpose of growing hothouse flowers for my January wedding. My father seems to have a growing interest in Mrs. Snyder, Flora Ledbetter's aunt. Oh, and Mr. Welby says he will do something drastic if I don't relent and agree to court him.”

“Those sound like very interesting complications. We should probably start with Mr. Welby. Did he threaten you?”

“No. I believe the implication was that he would harm himself. Goodness, but I have no idea why he would act in such a way. I've done nothing but rebuff that man. A woman shouldn't have to say no more than once, should they? Perhaps it's because of those silly traditions where you aren't supposed to say yes right away, lest a man think you are wanton. But I simply find that annoying. I have a great deal to tend to in life, and I haven't got time for such games.”