Ruby's Song (Love in the Sierras Book 3) (5 page)

Marlena glanced around at the wide disapproving eyes of passersby, but Juliet didn’t notice or care.

“When do you travel again?”

“Just under three weeks we board the train west, and is Dalton ever ready for it!”

Marlena started, standing a mite taller. “Dalton is here with you? In Boston?”

“Yes, much as he’s hated it. But he wouldn’t let me go on my own. You know how protective he is of me.”

“Some things never change,” Marlena said with a breathy laugh, feeling heat trickle into her cheeks.

“Honey,
most
things never change.”

Before Marlena could speak again, she heard the deep timbre of his voice behind her. Her heart hammered against her chest as she swallowed past a thick lump, quickly smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt and patting her hair.  

“Mother, I was able to procure a table for us. Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize you were speaking with someone.”

Marlena slowly turned and locked eyes with Dalton. He was even more handsome than she remembered with his shoulders broadened, his face more angled and clean shaven. His eyes were the same bright blue that filled her dreams, only more penetrating, so penetrating she couldn’t bear to look at them for long. Her gaze fell to her wringing hands as she bowed in a slight curtsey. He said nothing, and neither did she, for her voice was lost somewhere between her throat and her lips. It was only when her chest began to burn that she realized she’d been holding her breath.

“Hello, Mr. Cunningham,” she finally managed, the meekness of her voice grating on the air. Her eyes flitted to his briefly, then fell again.

Dalton’s brow furrowed and Juliet barked a loud laugh.

“For heaven’s sake, boy. Don’t you recognize Marlena?”

His features fell in what she believed was shock and he shook his head as he took a step forward. “Forgive me,” he said, his voice breathy and incredulous. “Little Miss?”

She chuckled into the palm of her hand. “I haven’t been called that in…”

“Five years?” he offered and they laughed in unison. “You look…” His mouth opened and shut, but no words came out. She watched his eyes travel the length of her, assessing, appraising. Approving? Her skin tingled as if his hands had touched her and not his gaze.

She swallowed past the awkward silence and laughed. “Please, Mr. Cunningham, do finish your sentence. I look…?”

“All grown up,” he finally said, and she fought back the frown tugging at her lips. It was hardly a compliment. “And no need to call me Mr. Cunningham. I believe you remember my name?”

His smile had the same effect on her as it had five years ago. Lord, but she felt like a thirteen-year-old girl again. A tight-chested, thick-throated, flushed, jumbled, voiceless thirteen-year-old girl.

“Dalton,” she finally managed.

“Ah,” he said as he rocked back on his heels with a smile. “You do remember it. What a chance meeting this is. I was just telling my mother we’ve procured a table for luncheon. Would you care to join us? I’m afraid we missed you at the Opera House last night.”

“The Opera House?”

“Yes,” Juliet answered. “Your sister told us you perform there three nights a week. We went last night and saw Sarah, but no you.”

A spindly, hot stone sank slowly down Marlena’s chest and settled in her belly. She’d told that lie to her sister in a letter six months ago. Jess seemed to sense Marlena’s unease and unhappiness, even three thousand miles away. So, Marlena had fabricated a story to ease her sister’s concerns. It had taken her a full week to write the lie and another to actually send it, and now standing before her was her guilt, personified.

“Oh, well, I’m on hiatus as I prepare some new material,” she lied. “I’ll be back on the stage the first of the month.”

“Perfect!” Juliet exclaimed. “We depart on the second. We shall be able to see you.”

“And hear this talent everyone goes on about,” Dalton added.

“Although be forewarned,” Juliet said. “Dalton doesn’t have an ear for opera. He prefers a much more contemporary sound.”

He turned his grin on her. “I am certainly open to conversion, though, if you can manage it.”

Marlena’s laugh was so nervous it sounded foreign to her ears, but all mirth faded from her as she caught a fleeting glimpse of Elijah Winthrop strolling down the street. It wasn’t difficult to suss his approach, for he parted crowds like Moses did the Red Sea. And he was headed straight for them.

“Uh…” her eyes darted frantically to Juliet. “Lunch, did you say? I’m famished. Can we hurry?”

Dalton turned sideways and motioned for the ladies to lead the way. Marlena had no idea where they were going, so she followed Juliet, glancing once over her shoulder to see Elijah still stomping their way and gaining ground. She leaned toward Juliet. “How much farther is it?”

“Just here, dear,” Juliet motioned to a restaurant on the right and Marlena pushed her through the door. She turned in time to see Elijah storm past without a glance in their direction. She heaved a relieved sigh only to look up and find the curious faces of Dalton and Juliet peering down at her. She giggled nervously and cleared her throat.

“Shall we eat?”

“Yes,” Dalton said. “We have a table near the window.”

“No!” Marlena called, surprised by the volume of her protestation, but she knew this area of the city, knew the people who swarmed it and how unforgiving and judgmental they were, and she wouldn’t place Juliet in a position to be shamed and ridiculed. She couldn’t take it. “Can we sit in the back, please?”

Dalton’s face fell into a glower so intense she nearly stumbled back from it. “Away from curious onlookers? Anyone who might judge the company you keep?”

“Dalton,” Juliet hissed in a warning tone.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Little Miss. You seem eager to avoid being seen by anyone.” His gaze bore down on her. It made her sad that he leapt to such a conclusion about her. And angry. She snorted and shrugged.

“You mean apart from the multitude of other people who saw us while we conversed in broad daylight on the street for the past ten minutes?” He chewed the inside of his cheek and she raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Of course you’re mistaken, Dalton. I’ve been the subject of ridicule in this neighborhood for five years and I won’t expose your mother to that if I can help it. And while I’m on the subject of correcting you, my name is Marlena,
not
Little Miss.”

He flinched, as though he’d been slapped, but his face was full of surprise and…respect?

Juliet turned to her son with a smug grin. “Dalton, please see about getting us a table in the back, and if you’ve found your manners you may join us. Otherwise, I’ll see you back at the inn.”

With a bow, he turned away and Juliet grasped Marlena’s hands. Her smile was sad and patronizing. “You and Dalton worry too much about protecting me. I hope you won’t hold it against him.”

Marlena shook her head just as he returned and led them to a quiet, secluded table in the back of the restaurant. Dalton positioned himself between her and Juliet, sending her a soft, apologetic smile. That and his nearness urged her stomach into a whirl of sensation that made her pulse race. She’d been unprepared for this, for him, and fought to remain her composure. Years of social rules poured through her and she was determined to follow all of them. She conjured an image of Sarah Jeanne and did her best to mimic her, folding her hands primly in her lap.

“Seeing how much you’ve grown makes me feel like an old woman,” Juliet said.

“Mother, you’re beautiful,” Dalton said.

“Truly,” Marlena added, earning a smile from Juliet and a glance from Dalton. She looked at the floor.

“Tell us about your life here,” Juliet said with excitement. “Your sister is going to want to know every detail I can spare.”

Marlena forced a wide grin. Knowing her every word would be repeated, she said, “Oh, life is comfortable here for the most part. I
adore
living in a big city, but I’m much too busy with performances and lessons to enjoy it in its entirety.”

“So, you love Boston, then?” Juliet cooed.

She took a hard swallow. “Yes.”

A long pause ensued, but Marlena remained quiet.

“That’s all you’re going to give me?” Juliet asked with a laugh. “Speak up, girl, and tell me more than that.”

Marlena took a deep breath, conjuring every lie she’d written to Jess to be sure to repeat them to Juliet. “I have everything a woman could hope for, the finest clothes and comforts, and I live in a very fine home. It’s been in the Winthrop family for more than a hundred years and designed with beautiful neoclassical lines. The décor is some of the most beautiful French pieces I’ve ever seen, much like my dresses. The Winthrops are a very charitable family.”

Juliet nodded and exchanged a look with Dalton that was difficult for Marlena to discern and she cringed inside. But she wanted her sister to believe those lies. She couldn’t possibly send Juliet home with messages that Marlena was miserably lonely and suffocating within the constraints of high society; couldn’t say she regretted coming to Boston or that she felt like a weed among roses; couldn’t let on that her only happiness lie in her nights at
The Museum
.

“It sounds very luxurious,” Juliet offered with a nod.

Marlena had to fight to keep her smile when she uttered the biggest lie of all. “I have everything I’ve ever wanted, except my family, of course. But we all make sacrifices, I suppose. It feels good to know I’ll soon be able to support myself.”

The waiter brought them a bottle of wine and Dalton poured them each a glass before sliding one in front of Marlena.

“No, thank you,” she said, waving it away.

“You don’t take wine?” Dalton asked.

“Only medicinally. It is not good for the throat and voice.”

“I ordered the bottle when I asked for a different table,” he returned with a smile. “Just one glass? Consider it my apology.” She found her lips widening and her hand reaching out to accept the glass.

Chapter 5             

Dalton studied the flushed cheeks of Marlena Beauregard. The girl was not a drinker. Two glasses of wine had her practically falling from the table. He’d had to reach out and set her upright more than once. The horror and embarrassment was etched across her features and reinforced by her constant apologies. It gave him a little chuckle.

He’d been shocked by her beauty. She was more radiant than her older sister, which was a feat itself, and it had struck him speechless in the first instance. He didn’t remember her having wavy hair as a child but it was the first thing he’d noticed when he’d come upon her from behind. Wavy blond hair. Then, he marked her clear white skin and full pink lips when she’d turned to greet him. His eyes roved over all of these features again, wondering if his affinity for a certain actress had predisposed him to notice these details on Marlena.

His mind drifted to the masked woman at
The Museum
and the range of emotions and passion she displayed on stage. His hand slipped into his pocket where he held the note he’d received from her.

It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.

He smirked. Was that an invitation of pursuit, or of something more carnal? If the latter, he would happily oblige. He must be certain, though. Her next performance was in two nights and he had just the quote. There would be no doubt what he wanted, and the next course of action would be as she determined.

His thoughts turned to Rosa, inviting a tinge of guilt. Though he’d told her not to hope, he knew she still loved him, and hope always rode on the back of love, no matter the circumstances. In truth, he was still unsure about his future with Rosa. He didn’t hold romantic views on marriage. He knew he could be happily married to Rosa and still not love her. But the blond actress had bewitched him, and he could hardly wait to see her again.

Marlena’s body began to droop beside him, her staunch upper class posture wilting into the chair and he knew it was time to see her home. He stood and addressed the women.

“I’m going to hail a carriage, and I’ll escort you home, Marlena.”

“Oh, no,” she stood abruptly and swayed so far forward that she had to grip the table. “Well, perhaps you’d better.”

He dismissed himself and spoke with the host, taking a glass of whisky and a cigar while he waited. Once the transport arrived, he went back to the table. Marlena wrapped her arms around the one he offered and he felt the entire weight of her body sag onto it. He chuckled at how weightless she seemed. He’d expected to feel bogged down by her large skirts alone.

They said their goodbyes to his mother and left. Once inside the carriage, her eyes began to close and her head lolled forward before she snapped upright and looked around, her violet eyes brightening in panic.

“Mr. Cunningham?” she asked.

“Dalton is my name.”

“Dalton...I have a favor to ask of you.”

“And what is that?”

“May we drive around for a while longer? Give me a chance to get my legs back?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

She took a deep breath, interrupted by a hiccup. “Because I must be able to sneak back up to me room. I mean
my
room. Forgive me. Oh, dear. I shouldn’t have accepted the wine.”

He folded his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows. “Sneak?”

She sighed. “The Winthrops are very prominent political and community figures.” Drunken laughter bubbled out of her chest. “Can you imagine the scandal? A member of the Winthrop household caught out…”

Dalton tensed and held his breath for the dreaded reference to his mother.

“Inebriated.” She laughed again and he relaxed. “Elijah Winthrop would go positively apoplectic.”

He recalled the play at
The Museum
, and his jaw dropped. “Wait. You live in the home of Elijah Winthrop?”

She nodded. “Did I forget to mention that earlier? Oh, yes. His sister is Sarah Jeanne.”

“Is he really as bigoted as they say?”

“Well, I don’t know what
they
say, but
I
have it on good authority the man is intolerably small-minded and long-winded. Believe me, that is a very tiring combination.”

They chuckled, and he felt a little surprised. Based off of the evening, he would have expected her to sing the man’s praises. “So, you don’t align with his politics?”

She grimaced and chortled in disgust, the most unladylike sound she’d made all day. “Not. At. All. But that shouldn’t surprise you, given my childhood and how abusive and controlling Jess’s first husband was. I’m not about to support a similar vessel of control and censure.”

Dalton felt a twist in his gut and the narrowing of his eyes. “Does he abuse you?”

“Oh, no, no,” she said, batting the air. “He’s impotent where that’s concerned.”

“Does he frighten you?”

She snorted. “I’m not afraid of Elijah, but the Winthrops have fed, clothed, and educated me for the past five years. I must tread carefully and respectfully.”

“Which means sneaking out? Needlessly endangering yourself? Exposing your body to the harm of any wayward robber?” Her eyes narrowed and she reached down and lifted her skirts to her knees. Dalton’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

A triumphant smile lit her face as she pulled her pistol and drunkenly waved it around. “I’ve got this to protect me.”

“Whoa!” Dalton called as he reached out and took hold of it. “Don’t wave around a loaded gun, girl. What’re you crazy?” He stuffed the pistol into his jacket pocket. “Why are you carrying this?”

“I take it with me whenever I go out on my own,” she retorted. “I’m not stupid enough to go out unarmed. Jess taught me well. ‘Always keep a pistol strapped to your person and an eye on your back.’”

“Whenever you go out?” Dalton echoed. “Do you sneak out often, Little Miss?”

She pursed her lips at his derisive tone. After a long pause, she held her hand out. “Don’t call me that. I’m a grown woman, not a child, and I want my gun back, please.”

“Not ‘til you’re sober. I don’t want you to accidentally hurt someone.”

“I know how to shoot,” she said with a slur.

“I know you do.”

“Done it before.” She hiccupped. “Even shot my sister once.”

Dalton slanted his head and eyed her. “You shot your sister?”

Marlena giggled. “Not on purpose, but yes. Shot her right in the rear!” She roared with a full gut laugh. “Didn’t seem to bother her much. Father always did say she was a hard ass.”

Her body doubled over and she clutched her middle as she laughed. Soon, the sound faded until she suddenly buried her face in her hands. Her body shook as if she continued to laugh in silence, but then Dalton heard the unmistakable sniffling that told him she was crying.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Finally, she took a deep breath and sat up, knocking on the roof of the carriage to signal the driver to stop. She pushed open the door and jumped out, holding onto the door to steady the sway of her body.

“I’m fit enough for the task now.” She stared at him with bright glistening eyes for a long, suspended moment. “It really was wonderful to see you again, Dalton.”

“You, too.” He reached out and grabbed her arm. “Marlena, you’re not sober yet. If you walk in that house like you are, you’ll be caught out for sure.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about that. When people wish you weren’t there, they make it a point
not
to notice you. No one will be looking for me, rest assured.”

She turned and stumbled away. He left the carriage and followed her on foot, watching until she disappeared behind a hedge surrounding a large home as lavish as she’d described. The white clapboard shimmered in the rising early evening moon, its elaborate front entrance beaming in a pair of long, white columns flanking the door. An elliptical façade broke over the small front porch, boasting a glass window in the shape of a fan. A decorative balustrade ran the length of the roof, making the second story as ornate as the first. He whistled in awe.

A snapping twig drew his attention to the side yard and he watched as Marlena scrambled up a giant oak, rustling leaves and branches so loudly he was sure she’d wake the house. Her skirts snagged on tiny boughs and she yanked as she went along unsteadily.

“She’s going to kill herself,” Dalton mumbled before jogging over to assist. He scrambled up the trunk and reached her not a moment too soon as her foot slipped and she nearly tumbled to the ground. He clutched a sturdy overhead branch with one hand and grabbed her wrist with the other, drawing her against the length of his body. She wrapped her arm around his waist, steadying herself, and gaped at him with a silent look of shock.

“I’ve got you,” he said quietly, keeping his grip firm.

She was so close he could smell the faint scent of her perfume. Lavender, warm and heady, washed over him and he took a deep breath of it. The moonlight reflected in her eyes, deepening the flecks of violet and blue as they widened and roved steadily over his face.

Suddenly, she leaned harder against him, pressing her lips to his. Her mouth was warm and wet, and he responded without thinking, slanting his lips across hers, sending his tongue out to run over the pink creases along her pout. She opened her mouth, inviting him, and he accepted greedily, deepening the kiss. He tasted wine on her tongue. It was a sobering reminder of how relaxed her faculties were and he pulled away, steadying her, wishing he could steady his heartbeat as easily.

She bit down on her bottom lip and smiled until she straddled the window sill. She waved once more before falling gracelessly into the room. He chuckled and rolled his eyes before clambering back down to the ground. Once he knew she was safely tucked inside, he headed back to the inn on foot, sorting his thoughts along the way. What a whirlwind of a day. Marlena proved to be an intriguing puzzle. Why was she frequently sneaking out? And why the tears? Not the behavior of a woman blissfully in love with her life, as she pronounced.

A slight flush of guilt moved through him at the smugness he felt knowing she might not enjoy her high-brow existence. She deserved a life of ease after spending her life surviving injustice. Both of her parents had died when she was young, leaving her and her sister at the mercy of a controlling murderer. They’d escaped and worked their way from town to town, using only their wits and sewing skills to live. If she’d finally found some peace and amusement living in Boston, who was he to begrudge her that?

Still, he couldn’t help the disenchantment he felt, the deflated hopes he’d once had for her. She had been sweet and shy, but also strong and brave, even as a child. She hadn’t hesitated to shoot the man threatening her sister, and she would have run into a burning building to rescue Jess without batting an eye if he hadn’t been there to stop her. How could such a brave creature reduce herself to subterfuge and sneaking about?

The folded note fell into the palm of his hand, and it suddenly occurred to him that his disappointment lie in that Marlena failed to measure up to the woman occupying his thoughts for the past two months. He knew from the life he’d lived with his mother how oppressed and powerless women were, so whenever he saw one stand up for herself or any other injustice, he couldn’t help but admire. The idea of Marlena sneaking around to avoid the loss of her comfortable life was an idea he could understand, but he still looked down his nose at it.

When he reached the inn, he removed his jacket and tossed it over a chair. There was a loud thud when the garment hit the arm. He searched its pockets, releasing a sigh when he pulled out Marlena’s gun. He’d have to get it back to her.

The early-afternoon sun glared off the front windows of the Winthrop home, nearly blinding Dalton. He adjusted the brim of his hat to protect his eyes and stretched his shoulder muscles in the tight day coat he’d borrowed. He knew he couldn’t visit the Winthrop home looking like a plainsman, so he’d dressed appropriately, lest he earn a slammed door in the face.

A withered butler opened the door and Dalton flashed a wide grin. “Good day. I wondered if I might have a word with Miss Marlena Beauregard.”