With a sigh, he rose from the water, his cigar clamped between his straight, white teeth. Grabbing the towel from the side of the tub, he dried off as best he could before stepping out. Naked, he moved to the wash stand and, pouring water into his shaving mug, he whipped up a froth with his brush. After lathering his face, he slowly scraped away the day’s growth of beard, pitched his cigar into his bath, splashed clean water on his face and dried it. A little cologne wouldn’t be amiss he decided, pouring a scant amount in his palm and applying it. He’d better make good use of the time he had to enjoy Suzanna’s company. She sure wouldn’t think much of him after tonight. One way or another he aimed to find out if there was a woman worth keeping beneath that pretty face.
At ten minutes before eight he presented himself at the door of the boarding house and knocked.
“Miss will be down in a few minutes,” Mrs. Gunderson informed him, wiping her hands on an apron tied round her waist. “Please to wait in the parlor,” she continued, showing him the way. “I don’t allow callers upstairs.”
Dalton took off his hat and followed her right through the parlor and into the kitchen.
“I’d like you to pack Miss Jefferies things while we’re gone,” he stated simply, pulling a gold piece from his pocket and pressing it into her hand.
“Her rent is paid till day after tomorrow,” she informed him, eyeing the coin longingly.
“I know that, but the lady will be leaving with me tonight,” he replied, moving his vest aside and revealing his star. “Someone will be by to pick up her trunk in a little while.”
“Ya, I’m not surprised that one is trouble,” she smirked as she pocketed the coin. “Always with her nose in the air,” she continued with a sniff. “You yust see that I don’t get in no trouble for this, lawman.”
Dalton nodded and left the room. Taking a seat in the parlor, he cooled his heels for another twenty minutes before Suzanna appeared. Wearing a pretty brown gown, her hair fairly glowed in the lamplight. Her eyes, mysterious dark pools, held secrets he was bound to discover.
“You clean up nice, Dalton,” she said as she sailed into the room on a cloud of perfume, eyeing him up and down. “Shall we go? I’m starving.”
“Certainly, Miss Jefferies,” he replied cordially as he took her elbow and moved toward the front door. “I’ve taken the liberty of hiring a carriage for tonight. I wouldn’t want you to dirty your pretty new dress.”
“I appreciate that,” she replied with a smile, “but I’ve had this old thing for ages and ages. Why back home in Georgia, I’d never have worn such a simple frock for a night out. Here I guess it doesn’t much matter,” she simpered as he helped her into the carriage. “Proper rules of etiquette don’t seem to apply,” she pouted as she settled onto the seat.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Dalton replied as he rounded the carriage and climbed in. “I think good manners are universal, providing you surround yourself with decent people, if you know what I mean,” he continued.
“Oh, I most certainly do,” she agreed. “Why some of those brides were frightfully ignorant and crude,” she asserted. “It was all I could do to associate with them, coming from my background and all,” she drawled. “After all, I came out here expecting to marry a man of impeccable taste. Imagine my surprise when I found out he was already married, and to a woman of inferior birth!”
“I found the Jordons charming,” he stated, barely managing to refrain from gritting his teeth.
“The Jordon men, well, yes, of course they are. Very charming indeed, but those women they married,” she said, sighing and shaking her head. “Well, in my opinion, they could have done better, much, much better. Not Mr. Jordon, the elder,” she asserted. “He married a woman of French birth. She’s remarkably sophisticated and oh so lovely. Her clothes come from Paris you know.”
“And do you have an opinion about most things?” he asked as they trotted along the rutted road.
Suzanna appeared to think this over.
“Yes, Mr. Dalton, I guess I do, although it hasn’t served me well. It seems as though most men would like women to be seen and not heard. At least that’s how I was raised,” she admitted. “We were supposed to be the foil, reflecting our fathers and husband’s wealth and position.”
“You make a mighty pretty foil, Miss Jefferies,” he offered as they pulled up in front of the restaurant.
“Thank you, but be that as it may, my beauty hasn’t made my life any easier, at least not yet,” she responded as he helped her from the carriage.
“And you expect that to change in the future?” he asked as he gently set her on her feet.
“I most certainly do,” she answered taking his arm.
“When you marry the marshal?”
“Who? Oh, Marshal Hadley. Let’s not talk about him,” she pleaded. “Tonight I just want to have fun. I want to eat and laugh and dance,” she stated gaily. “Oh, it seems ages since I’ve had a good time. Can we do that, Mr. Dalton? Can we just concentrate on enjoying ourselves for this one evening?”
“Your wish is my command,” he replied with a slight bow that had her smiling as the door opened and they were ushered inside.
Suzanna clapped her hands together in delight.
Chapter Twelve
Several women turned to look at the tall, dark haired man beside her as they were shown to their table.
“I had no idea you were so handsome under that cowboy scruff,” she whispered as he pulled out her chair.
“Thank you, I think.” With a grin he took his own seat.
“No, I mean it. You’re a very attractive man,” she stated thoughtfully, seeming to note every detail of his attire. “It’s a shame you don’t have any social standing,” she said with a sigh.
“Yes, isn’t it,” he agreed a bit sharply.
“You don’t do you? Have any pedigree, I mean?”
“Not that you’d be aware of,” he replied as the waiter approached. “We’ll have a bottle of your finest champagne,” he informed him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know what you’d like?” he inquired as they consulted the menus.
“I’m going to have roast beef with all the trimmings,” Suzanna exclaimed, snapping the menu closed and setting it aside.
“Very well.”
As soon as they were served their champagne, Dalton ordered for them. He chose a thick steak and they watched a few couples whirling around on the dance floor as they waited.
“This is delicious,” Suzanna said taking a sip of her champagne. “Of course I wasn’t allowed to drink much, so I can only compare it to what I had at the Jordons’, but it’s just as good if not better than what they served. When I marry, I’m going to have a huge wine cellar with dozens and dozens of bottles. I shall drink every day if I choose,” she insisted, raising her glass in a toast.
“That might be difficult on a marshal’s salary,” Dalton replied softly.
“Oh, yes, I forgot. Well, maybe I won’t marry the marshal. Maybe I’ll marry a rich man who can give me everything I want,” she said mockingly before sipping from her glass.
“Is that what’s important to you, wealth, power?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Of course it’s important,” she snapped with a frown. “Money is the only true security a girl has. If she has money, she can go anywhere, do anything without worrying where her next meal is coming from.”
“But if you marry money, it will be your husband’s decision what you do and where you go,” he pointed out. “It will be at his discretion what you may spend.”
“That’s true,” she conceded, pointing at him with her finger. “But a smart girl knows how to get what she wants from her husband.”
“You’re sure about that?” he asked with a grin.
“Very,” she replied as their plates were set before them. Snapping open her napkin, she laid it carefully across her lap.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Dalton,”
she replied, cutting a tiny bite of roast beef and popping it in her mouth with a small groan of satisfaction. “I’m going to be honest with you because, well, there’s no reason not to be. Most likely we will not see each other after tonight. You’re not interested in acquiring a wife and you simply wouldn’t do as a husband…”
“Are you insulting me?” he asked with a laugh.
“Not at all, at least I don’t mean to. I simply mean that you don’t have nearly enough money to tempt me despite… well as I said, you are an attractive man.”
“I see. Please go on.”
“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, pointing at his plate with her fork.
“Of course, it’s just that I’m so um… entertained I nearly forgot.”
“Don’t make fun of me, Dalton. I’m deadly serious,” she warned, her eyes narrowing.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Please continue. I’d love to hear how you are going to convince your ‘rich husband’ to hand over his money,” he said with a smirk.
“All right, laugh if you want, but everything I tell you is the truth,” she replied, taking a bite of mashed potatoes smothered in rich gravy. Picking up her glass she drained it and instantly the waiter was at her side refilling it.
“Where I come from, women are raised differently. They are brought up to respect their elders, be graceful and charming at all times and defer to the men in their lives. They learn to run a huge home, manage the household accounts and the servants efficiently all without bothering their lord and master, be it father or husband. Women must be skilled in all social graces, talented in an assortment of extremely boring activities such as needlework and playing the piano and the really clever ones make it all seem effortless.”
“Seems reasonable,” he drawled, laughing when she glared at him.
“A loving and generous husband had to be acquired at some point, ensuring a woman a safe and secure future for her and her children. It didn’t matter if the man was particularly young or handsome, as long as he had the wherewithal to support her in the style she’d been raised in. She was encouraged to aspire to make the best match that she could. This, of course, was determined by her own beauty,” she pointed out. “Naturally, the more beautiful and talented a woman was, the more likely she was to marry well. Statesmen were to be particularly sought out. After all, they had power and position well beyond the average land owner.”
“Did no one value you beyond what you could bring to the family with your looks?” he asked leaning forward.
Suzanna looked at him, confused.
“What I mean to ask is, was no one interested in you as a person? Who you are on the inside? Your personality, your sense of humor, your mind?” he asked, his brows furrowed.
“No, I don’t think so,” she answered, obviously thinking about his question as she chewed. “I don’t think it mattered what I thought about anything. It was obvious from the time I was a very young child that I was going to be a ‘great beauty.’ That’s really all anyone seemed to care about. My mother was always after me about not getting hurt. She didn’t want to risk any unsightly scars. I was never allowed to go outside without protection from the sun lest I get a dreaded freckle, but I never did even though I snuck out plenty of times.”
“Go on.”
“Anyway, to get back to what I was saying originally, I was trained to be an exceptional wife. The reason I know I can control my future husband and his wealth didn’t come from my mother, however. It came from somewhere else,” she said coyly.
“Tell me,” he encouraged, genuinely curious. “What secret spell can you conjure to make a man bend to your will?”
Suzanna leaned forward and whispered as the waiter refilled her glass once again.
“I don’t know if I should tell you. It’s very intimate and nothing a lady would ever say,” she hissed.
“Where did you learn this secret?” he asked, leaning forward too.
“In the servant’s quarters,” she replied quietly. “I was always welcome there and people often forgot I was around. My mother would have had a fit had she known, but I found out all sorts of interesting things.”
“So tell me,” he insisted, taking a bite of his steak. “I swear I will take it as it’s intended, just a bit of information shared between friends.”
Suzanna quickly drank half her glass of champagne before she spoke.
“I heard that if a woman puts her lips on her husband’s member and sucks, she can get him to agree to anything,” she whispered with a knowing smile.
Dalton began to cough, picking up his napkin and covering his mouth. Soon tears were coming from his eyes and Suzanna worriedly hurried around the table and began to pound his back.
“Bring us some more champagne,” she ordered the waiter when he approached to offer assistance. “Are you all right?” she asked fretfully, looking into his eyes. At his nod, she returned to her seat. “What happened?” she asked when he put the napkin down and tried to catch his breath.
“I don’t know,” he replied with a cough. “Something must have gone down the wrong way,” he gasped out.
“Well here, drink this,” she insisted handing him his now full glass. “Gracious, don’t die on me now. I certainly can’t afford to pay for this dinner.”
“I’ll do my best,” Dalton replied before gulping down his wine. “Tell me, is that it? Anything else you learned to get your way?”
“Isn’t that enough?” she nearly yelled back before lowering her voice. “Hells bells, even the thought of doing something like that is disgusting, but I’ll do it, I really will if that’s what it takes,” she said with conviction.
“And have you put this theory to the test on a man?” he demanded softly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she cried, appalled. “I’m not married yet.”
“You, Miss Jefferies, are a woman of admirable traits,” he informed her. “I’ve seldom met a woman willing to sacrifice so much to attain their desire.”
“Thank you.” Leaning back in her chair she placed a hand on her tummy and looked at her empty plate in surprise.
“Would you like something more?” he asked.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t” she answered. “Maybe a little dessert later,” she added, covering her mouth as she burped.
“As you wish. Would you like to dance?”
“Perhaps we’d better,” Suzanna agreed. “I’m feeling quite full and a little exercise might help.”
It was as Suzanna was moving around the dance floor in Dalton’s arms that she realized she may have made a huge blunder. For one thing she was enjoying herself immensely. Dalton was handsome enough to draw attention to them; his strong arms held her close guiding her in a smooth waltz and many eyes watched them. He was attentive to her in every conceivable way, listening to her opinions and commenting as though he cared what she had to say. It was refreshing in a way she hadn’t expected. For once, she was an equal partner in the conversation and there was a freedom in being able to say exactly what she thought as she had no intention of becoming involved with him. She felt no embarrassment, and found it odd that she, who trusted no one, male or female, found it so easy to talk to a man who wasn’t much more than a stranger.
Simultaneously, it occurred to her that the restaurant was filled with some of the most prominent residents of Portland. In retrospect, she realized she’d eaten like a field hand, laughed much too loud and drank far more champagne than she should have. Surely other women were whispering about her behind their hands. What would Mr. Ferguson think when he returned and found out the woman he’d traveled back to Seattle to find had, in fact, been in his home town making a spectacle of herself?
“I think we should go,” she whispered to Dalton.
“Why?”
“I get the feeling everyone is watching us.”
“And why wouldn’t they be? You’re a very beautiful woman, Suzanna,” he replied with a smile. “I’ve always been of the opinion you enjoyed attention.”
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“I do, but I’m not sure this is the right kind. It is my intention to stay in Portland. I’ll have a reputation to maintain, a certain standard I’ll have to live up to if I marry…”
“Marry whom?” Dalton asked.
“If you must know it is my intention to wed Mr. Ferguson,” she hissed. “He’s the wealthiest man in the territory aside from the Jordons.”
“And what makes you think he’ll want to marry you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course he’ll want to marry me. I’m everything a man like that would want in a wife,” she replied confidently.
“Apparently not,” Dalton informed her smiling over the top of her head.
“What are you talking about?” Suzanna demanded, missing a step.
His strong arms pulled her closer.
“I have it on good authority that Mr. Ferguson is in Seattle with the intention of courting one of the other brides.”
“Who?”
“A young woman named Elinor. Do you know her?” he inquired sweetly.
“Elinor! That’s impossible,” she cried, stopping in the middle of the dance floor.
“I thought you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself?” Dalton reminded her.
“Oh yes,” she responded, surging into his arms once again. “Dance,” she ordered.
Dalton complied and waltzed her around the floor while she stewed. As soon as the music ended, she hurried to their table and finished off her glass of wine.
“How do you know this?” she demanded through narrowed, suspicious eyes.
“I’ve had a telegram from Cole.”
“The marshal? Why would he be sending you a telegraph?” she whispered faintly as her face paled.
“Suzanna, you’ve been honest with me tonight, at least I believe so. In return I’ll be equally honest with you. I’m Cole’s deputy and I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you boarded the stage in Seattle. I did believe you when you said you were coming here to meet him and thought he might be in trouble since he hadn’t informed me of his trip to Portland.
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