Delilah's Flame

by Parnell, Andrea

  * * *

  “You look splendid, dear,” Emily said, observing Lilah’s eye-catching new coiffure. Bess had pulled all her hair to one side and pinned it so that the mass of curls tumbled over one shoulder. “Don’t you like her hair dressed this way, Barrett?”

  Barrett Fenton, a man of conservative tastes, attempted a diplomatic reply. “I find it daring,” he said, taking a studious look. He set his thin lips in a smile. “Perhaps just a trifle theatrical.”

  Somewhat miffed, Lilah looked up. The new style had been chosen for his benefit, as had the yellow-and-blue-striped taffeta gown with the wide flounce at the hem. She supposed she should have remembered Barrett liked simple styles, like the neat bun Dinah wore. But such severity didn’t suit her, which was just as well, since it was next to impossible to confine her curls in a sleek style.

  She forgave Barrett during dinner, however, finding in his presence a kind of reassurance that life at Damon House could once again get back to normal. If unexciting, Barrett at least didn’t have her in a tizzy all through dinner, wondering if he would reveal her carefully guarded secrets. And if she went for a walk in the moonlit conservatory with Barrett, she wouldn’t find her emotions running out of hand. He was safe. She understood that Aunt Emily thought her fiancé-to-be dull, but he wasn’t actually. It was simply that he already had his niche in the Damon family. Marriage to Barrett would require only a small adjustment on her part, and small ones, after all, were the best kind.

  “By the way, Lilah,” Clement addressed his daughter. “I ran into Tabor Stanton as he was leaving today.”

  “Did you, Papa?” Lilah gave a sunny smile, masking her displeasure that Tabor’s name had been mentioned. She would much have preferred Barrett not hear of him. “I’m glad you had a chance to say good-bye to Mr. Stanton.”

  Clement gave Lilah a curious look. “I didn’t say good-bye to him. Why should I? I took him to the stable to have a look at my horses. The man’s quite knowledgeable about horseflesh.”

  A terrible feeling of foreboding crept over Lilah. The color drained from her face. “He saw all the horses, Papa?” she asked in a small, weak voice.

  “Certainly,” Clement answered slowly, his eyes on Lilah’s pale face. What was the matter with the girl? Was she going to have another fainting spell?

  “Even Rogue?” Lilah croaked.

  “Rogue too.”

  Lilah gripped the edge of the table. Her heart hammered unsteadily. All afternoon she had been congratulating herself on successfully duping Tabor again, when all along she had been found out. What would he do? Papa couldn’t know yet, not as calm as he was.

  “What did he say?” Lilah’s voice sounded thin.

  “Lilah, are you all right? You look ghastly.” Clement’s question brought everyone’s eyes to Lilah and added to her discomfort.

  “I’ll be all right, Papa,” she answered, giving a fleeting smile. “Did Mr. Stanton like the stallion?”

  “I should say he did.” Clement grinned. “He’s agreed to break the animal to the saddle.”

  Lilah gasped, and though Clement didn’t think it possible, turned paler. If he could have stood, he would have rushed to her side.

  “Emily,” he said, his eyes wide with anxiety, “take that girl to her room and see that she gets whatever she needs. Send for the doctor again if you think it’s necessary.”

  Emily hurriedly got to her feet, holding back a suspicious smile. She did believe Lilah was smitten with Tabor Stanton. Just the mention of his name, and the girl went vapid. Emily certainly preferred him over Barrett Fenton. Clement’s assistant hadn’t a romantic notion in his head. If he had, he would have married Lilah by now.

  “Don’t you worry, Clement,” Emily assured her brother-in-law. She hastened to Lilah’s side and assisted her niece from the chair. The girl was shaking. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she went on. “In this heat it’s a wonder all of us don’t have the vapors.”

  With Lilah in her bed, a cool cloth resting on her forehead, Emily asked the question she had been burning to ask. “Are you going to tell me what’s upset you?”

  Lilah wished she could. It was one of those moments when pouring her heart out to someone would have made her feel immensely better. But she couldn’t tell Aunt Emily the cause of her distress. She couldn’t tell anyone, except perhaps Loo, and Loo wouldn’t be home for weeks yet.

  “I really don’t know,” Lilah offered weakly. “I think maybe it is the heat.” Another lie. And soon she would need another to follow that one. The thought of it sickened her.

  Emily frowned. “I mentioned the heat for Clement’s sake. I certainly know better. It’s Tabor Stanton who has you in this state. What is it, child?” She sat on the bedside and took Lilah’s hand. “Are you in love with the man?”

  “No!” Lilah gasped, but in another moment saw Emily’s suspicion as an avenue of escape. I mean, I don’t know. There is Barrett, you see.”

  Emily undid her frown. It was all clear to her. “What you mean is, since you’ve met Mr. Stanton, you aren’t sure about your feelings for Barrett. Is that it?”

  “Yes,” Lilah stammered, wishing she could pull the sheet up over her head. She didn’t like deceiving the people she loved. But once started, there was no turning back. “You see, I thought Mr. Stanton was going away. That would have settled everything. Now that I’ve learned he isn’t leaving, I don’t know what will happen.” She inhaled deeply. “I wish he had just gone away.”

  “Of course you do,” Emily consoled her. “Then you wouldn’t have to take a close look at yourself. You wouldn’t have to decide whether it’s Barrett Fenton or Tabor Stanton you care for.”

  Lilah pulled the sheet up to her nose. “You may be right, Aunt Emily.”

  “Undoubtedly so,” Emily responded. “And don’t you think Mr. Stanton knows it too? Don’t you think that’s why he’s found a reason to stay around? I saw the way he looked at you. I don’t believe he heard a word your father said in the library last night. Certainly he’s not still here because of a horse.”

  Lilah groaned and let Aunt Emily ramble on. She had stretched her limits as far as attributing favorable qualities to Tabor Stanton went. He couldn’t have seen the stallion without knowing the horse was his. Was it possible he hadn’t yet concluded Lilah Damon and Delilah were one and the same? If so, how long before he figured it out?

  Papa had said Tabor would be training Rogue. That meant he would be at Damon House regularly. What did he expect to gain by that? She shivered as her mind explored answers to the question. Had Tabor kept quiet about the horse belonging to him out of regard for her father? Or was he just waiting until he could exact a sweeter revenge?

  Chapter 10

  Tabor packed the clothes bought in San Francisco and the old ones that had been sent out and laundered. When all his belongings were together, he called for a porter to have them sent to his new address. This hotel had been fine until now, but for what he had in mind, more luxurious surroundings were required.

  A visit to the Misses Alden’s post-office box revealed that the letter he had sent was still waiting to be picked up. He had small hope it would be. A few hours later, Tabor watched as a valet unpacked his bag in one of the finest suites of the Fontaine Hotel. With few garments to be hung, the task took only a few minutes. Tabor tipped the valet and sent him away with instructions for the hotel chef concerning the dinner party he was giving the next night.

  When alone, Tabor seated himself in a wine velvet chair behind a lacquered desk and, using the quill pen and ink he found inside it, wrote out a note. That done, he pushed back the chair and propped his feet on the desk’s shiny top. Smiling, he methodically rolled a cigarette and struck a sulfur match on his boot sole. While he smoked, he read what he had written.

  Satisfied that his words would have the intended effect, he folded and sealed the note in an envelope. Two days had passed since he had found the Admiral in the Damon stable. He had told Clement he needed a couple o
f days to tie up some business and then he could start breaking the horse.

  Two days should be long enough for Lilah Damon to stew, wondering how much trouble he would cause her. He still hoped she wasn’t guilty of anything more than buying a good horse. But the information he had carefully elicited from Clement didn’t leave room for much doubt. Lilah, Dinah, and Loo had made a similar trip to St. Louis the previous year, at a time that corresponded to Delilah’s first tour. There were too many coincidences, including the young Indian girl with green eyes and freckles just like Dinah Damon’s.

  What he couldn’t figure out was why Lilah did it. Not for the money. Clement Damon had more than enough for his daughters to live opulently all their lives. By observation, he was extremely generous with both of them. Tabor’s guess was she liked the excitement. Compared to Delilah’s, Lilah Damon’s life must seem bland. But how did she justify involving Dinah? To his surprise he had learned Clement’s younger daughter was only sixteen. What kind of sister would expose a girl of that age to the unsavory activities in saloons?

  He did have a few doubts left. He still didn’t know how Lilah could change the color of her hair. But he put nothing past Delilah. If she and Lilah Damon were the same woman, plenty of explanations were due. And no shrinking-virgin act would get Lilah out of his grip this time.

  He knew one way to make certain, provided he couldn’t get a confession out of her. Below her left breast, Delilah had a small mole, one exotically dark spot on the whitest of flesh. If Lilah Damon had the same mark, it would remove his last uncertainty. The problem was, he would have to undress her to find out. If Lilah didn’t have the mark, he would have compromised a lady. The irony was, he didn’t know if he preferred finding it there or not.

  * * *

  Two days of worry, and now this. Lilah paced the floor of the drawing room. Angrily she crushed the torn envelope bearing the lion crest of the Fontaine Hotel into a ball and tossed it into the fireplace.

  Tabor Stanton’s invitation, quite clearly for her alone, was for a small dinner party in his suite. She couldn’t imagine how he could afford the Fontaine or whom he knew in San Francisco to invite to a dinner party. By his own admission he had no friends in the city. She supposed he had been there long enough to make new ones. Surely they weren’t persons of her acquaintance. That was some consolation.

  What had he been doing the past two days? He hadn’t made any accusations since seeing the horse. Why? The man wasn’t a complete fool. Maybe he had accepted that the animal was lost to him. After all, she had proof of ownership. He had signed the stallion over to her. On the other hand, she couldn’t be sure of Tabor. Maybe he was waiting for her to make the first move. He might simply want her to pay him for the horse—or return it.

  Did she dare refuse the invitation? His note asked that a response be sent by evening. Whatever was she to do?

  “I swear, miss, I’ve never known you to fret about your age.” Bess untied the linen strips that had Lilah’s hair set in sausage curls. “You hardly look as old as Dinah with those ringlets.”

  “They’re just the way I want them, Bess.” Lilah turned to get a view of both sides and the back of her head in the dressing table’s triple mirror. “Pull them back and tie the ribbon in.”

  Bess did as asked, tying up the little-girl curls with a blue satin ribbon. When done, she stood back and shook her head in dismay. What had gotten into her mistress?

  “Bring the white watered silk, Bess,” Lilah said, touching just a hint of lemon scent to her wrists and throat.

  “Are you sure, miss?” Bess believed those fainting spells had set her mistress back a little. She wondered if she should tell Mrs. Dearborn how strangely her niece was acting. An infantile hairstyle, and now a dress that had been out of style last year. It wasn’t like Miss Damon to wear anything that wasn’t the latest in fashion.

  “I’m sure, Bess,” Lilah said, giving the maid a reassuring smile. “And no, I haven’t lost my senses. I’m having dinner with people who aren’t...Well, I wouldn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.”

  Relieved, Bess smiled. That explained it. The mistress didn’t want to make others feel she was above them by dressing too stylishly.

  Lilah smiled too, seeing the concern leave Bess’s face. The lie about her choice of dress came so easily she wasn’t even aware she had told it.

  Bess hooked the last of the buttons on the bodice and adjusted the folds of the bustle, then hooked a string of pearls around Lilah’s neck. The gown had long sleeves cuffed with ivory lace and a square but modest neckline. It did absolutely nothing to flatter Miss Damon. Bess said she looked more appropriately dressed for a morning in church than for dinner at the Fontaine. But since a look of innocence was her goal, Lilah was satisfied.

  The night was too warm for more than a light shawl. Lilah called for a white one and as an afterthought draped it over her head. She took a final look in the mirror as she pulled on her gloves. Just a trace of a smile curved her lips. With the addition of a rosary, she might be mistaken for a nun.

  * * *

  “Lilah, welcome.” Tabor opened the door of his suite and showed her in. He contained a laugh. Not that she wasn’t as beautiful as ever. It was just that he had entertained a thought that the fiery-haired Delilah might be the one to accept his invitation. He was somewhat unprepared for the maidenly white gown and the virtuous expression an angel would envy. “Let me take your shawl,” he said politely.

  While he put the shawl away, Lilah’s eyes roamed the room. Seeing a small table covered with a lace cloth set for four eased her skepticism somewhat. She didn’t completely trust Tabor, and the invitation for dinner in his hotel suite could easily have been a ruse to get her alone. But it did look as if he expected two more guests.

  Had she missed them? Perhaps they had stepped into another room of the suite. She looked around again. This time her eyes took in every detail. The room had a warm red-on-red wallpaper, gold-and-red carpet, and black Italianate chairs at the table. Red velvet curtains, layered over lace, accented the tall windows. The same deep red was to be found in the upholstery of the settee and armchairs. It was a beautiful room, as were those she could see through the open doorways. What they lacked were people—other than Tabor and herself. She saw no sign of anyone, no other wrap on the rack.

  “Your other guests appear to be late,” she said, skepticism returning.

  Tabor grinned. “I’m sure they will be here any minute.” He ushered her to the settee but to her relief did not sit down beside her. “Perhaps you would like a glass of sherry while we wait?” He lifted a bottle and started to pour.

  “I never drink it,” Lilah responded.

  “Perhaps you prefer brandy.” A smile flashed on his lips.

  “No, thank you. I don’t partake of spirits in any form.”

  “How admirable.” Tabor’s eyes twinkled as he poured a glass of sherry for himself. “You won’t mind if I have a drink? I find a glass of sherry before dinner stimulates the palate.”

  “I have no objection,” Lilah said, sitting stiffly erect.

  “I do appreciate your tolerance.” Tabor seated himself on the armchair nearest her and sat staring and smiling. As the seconds grew into minutes, Lilah became more and more edgy and more and more suspicious.

  “Mr. Stanton,” she said when at last she could not separate the beat of her heart from the tick of the mantel clock, “you are expecting other guests?”

  Tabor’s smile widened at the use of his surname. Her patience had lasted a little longer than he had expected. “Why, Lilah,” he said, pretending offense, “you don’t think I would lure a lady here under false pretenses?”

  Lilah steamed beneath the surface. She thought exactly that, but she didn’t dare say so until she was sure no one else was coming. She didn’t want to anger him without good reason. Too much was at stake.

  Hands folded in her lap and feet crossed at the ankles, Lilah gave him a prim look. “It seems odd that they hav
e not yet arrived.”

  “It does at that,” he agreed, looking crestfallen.

  Another stretch of silence ensued, Lilah finding the passage of it intolerable. When it was clear Tabor would not break the uneasiness, her brows lifted suspiciously and she presented another question.

  “Just who are your other dinner guests?”

  Tabor finished his sherry before answering. “Two ladies I’m sure you’ll have much in common with. Miss—”

  “Ladies?” Lilah sputtered. “What ladies?”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a glass of sherry? It’s very calming and you seem a trifle nervous.”

  “I told you I didn’t care for any,” Lilah said slowly, attempting to remain civil but losing the fight. The very idea of inviting her to a private dinner party with two of his lady friends. She wouldn’t be surprised if they were residents of a bordello. A rosy flush bloomed on her throat. Flinty sparks gleamed in her eyes. “What ladies, Mr. Stanton?”

  Tabor gave her an indulgent look. He would almost be willing to let the stallion go to know what was running through her mind right now. A bemused smile ruffled his lips. “Lilah.” He spoke her name softly. “We do know each other better than that. Call me Tabor. Please.”

  Lilah slid to the edge of the settee, ready to spring to her feet if need be. Her anger at the insult overswept the reason she had accepted his dinner invitation to begin with. How malicious of him to refer to that dreadful episode in the conservatory. What a scoundrel he was! Did he actually think she would sit down to dinner with two lowly trollops?

  Her voice crackled. “What ladies, Tabor?”

  “Didn’t I say?” he asked smoothly.

  “You know you didn’t.”

  “Why, Lilah,” Tabor said, cocking his head to one side to study her expression. “I believe you’re angry.” He smiled as he might at a disagreeable child. “I think I understand. You expected to be my dinner partner. Well, you need not be jealous, you’ll have no competition for my attention.”