“I CAN’T BELIEVE I let you talk me into this.” Jade shifted uneasily on the carriage seat, careful not to crush the bustle of the second gown she’d had to don that day. “Where exactly are we going?” If indeed they were going shopping, as Babs had insisted, the driver was headed in the wrong direction.
“I told Harry to swing by Harrington House.”
Jade straightened, suddenly wary. “Why?”
“To welcome Jason Harrington III to town, why else? Doreen told me that the neighbors’ maid told her that their yard man had seen him ride up to Harrington House on horseback not an hour ago.”
Jade frowned and glanced out of the carriage window. “It’s very crass of us to go calling on him before he has had time to get settled.”
“In this city, anyone who hopes to take advantage of an opportunity has to act and act fast. Besides,” Babs added, drawing herself up smugly, “the Elite Directory states, ‘It is a rule of people of quality to call on persons newly arrived in the city.’”
“But, a lady doesn’t call upon a gentleman,” Jade countered.
Babs waved away the comment. “He won’t know that.”
“You hope.”
Jade watched with mounting suspicion as the Barretts’s shining, black-lacquered carriage entered the gate to Harrington House. When it halted before the towering double doors, Babs opened the door and urged Jade forward with a shove. Harry, the driver, hopped down from his seat to assist her.
“Get out, Jade.”
“Honestly, Babs, I don’t think we should do this.” Jade twisted her gloved hands in her lap as she tried to ignore the heat from the rush of blood that stained her cheeks.
“Out! If you start to get cold feet, just keep thinking of that Chinese collection you’re so set on rescuing from the bank, and pull yourself together. I’ve been over and over this.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything. In fact, I refuse to meet this man. I have no intention of duping someone into marriage.”
For a moment Babs appeared perplexed. She wrinkled her brow in thought, sighed, and just as Jade was certain she was about to capitulate, Babs said, “I’ll be right behind you. Let’s get out, shall we?”
Jade stayed put.
“All you have to do is meet him. I want to meet him. The least you can do is come with me.”
Harry shifted from one foot to the other, carefully watching them both between worried glances at the front of the imposing structure behind him. Carriages passed by on the street outside the fenced lawn while a steady breeze from the bay blew up California Street.
“Whenever you start a sentence with ‘all you have to do,’ then I know we’re headed for trouble. Remember the time you decided we should take that dinghy out in the bay and row around the ships in the harbor? We were caught in a riptide that nearly carried us out to sea before we were rescued. My father locked me away for a month.”
“Pooh. You make it sound worse than it really was,” Babs said.
“It couldn’t have been any worse unless we had drowned. We were gone for hours without food or water, and I ended up with my skin sun-scorched!”
“This is different.”
“How?”
Babs smiled. “You’re on dry land. Now let’s get out.”
Jade knew Babs well enough to know she would not be dissuaded once she set herself to a task. It would be best to meet Harrington and get it over with, rather than stand outside his door and argue for an hour with Babs. With her skirt gathered in her hands, Jade stepped out of the carriage, taking care not to miss the step. The Barretts’s driver took her hand and helped her down.
Babs hung back. As soon as Jade stepped aside to let her out, the brunette slammed the carriage door shut. Furious, Jade spun around and made a grab at the handle.
Babs stared at Harry with a cool expression that brooked no argument. “A hideous headache just hit me. Get back up on the box, Harry. Now.”
Jade grappled with the door handle, which was now locked.
She gritted her teeth. “You open this door, Barbara Barrett, or I’ll never speak to you again as long as you live, so help me God!”
“Drive on, Harry,” Babs called over Jade’s tirade. “I’m doing this for your own good, Jade. All you have to do is meet him, let him get a look at you all dressed up, and ask him for a ride home.”
Harry glanced back, hesitant to drive away while his mistress’ friend continued to cling to the door handle.
Babs reached out of the window, grabbed Jade by the wrists, and forced her away from the carriage. “Now, Harry, now!” she called out.
Her temper blazing, Jade tried to quell a flurry of nervous flutters in her stomach as she watched the carriage speed down the drive.
It was a long walk back.
Jade turned and looked at the oversized doors. Her blush failed to recede. Standing alone outside of Harrington’s front door, she felt humiliated. She should have known Babs would not rest until she had forced a meeting.
Jade turned again when she heard another carriage roll by. For a moment she thought about walking back down the long drive and waving down a ride, but hesitated, afraid she might find herself in a worse predicament.
She raised her hand to knock, dropped it to her side, then stood staring at the door once again. It took a few moments more before she decided that Harrington could easily have one of his servants drive her back to the Barretts’s, where she intended to immediately pack her meager belongings and move out—onto the streets if necessary. At least there she would not have to put up with Reggie’s disapproval and prejudice, or Babs’s scheming.
Jade squared her shoulders and tilted her face to take full advantage of the late afternoon sunlight. She straightened the jaunty princess hat, then smoothed her perfectly fitted white kid gloves. Babs had seen to every last detail.
She took a deep breath, then licked her lips and raised her hand again to grab the ring that dangled from the mouth of a brass lion’s head. Its feline eyes glowered at her forebodingly as she rapped the knocker in a series of loud bangs and waited for someone to answer the door.
Chapter Three
Easy to bend the body . . .
Not the will.
SHE DID NOT HAVE to wait long.
The door swung wide, astonishing her at first, for any well-trained houseboy knew better than to open a front door more than halfway. Trying to show as little curiosity as possible, Jade’s gaze flickered over what hardly passed as a decently dressed servant.
Spatula in hand, the man stared back at her with a questioning half-smile. She was amazed to find him rude enough to wear a hat indoors. It was not even a fashionable bowler, but a wide-brimmed, high-crowned Stetson that had seen better days. Dust was caked here and there about the tired hills and valleys of the hat. The brim shadowed his eyes, but did not hide the fact that they were a clear, rich blue. The lower half of his face was covered with the stubble of a dark blond beard—a good two days’ worth at the very least. A dark shirt, open at the neck to reveal his deeply tanned skin, was half-hidden beneath a creased leather vest. Faded denim trousers molded themselves to long, well-muscled legs, almost to the point of indecency. The glowing glint of teasing humor in his eyes sparked her indignation. He was like no hired servant she had ever seen—he looked more like a drifter pressed into service.
She straightened, faced him squarely, and in a steady voice that belied her inner turmoil said, “I’ve come to see Mr. Harrington. Please tell him I’m here.”
His voice was deep, somewhat gravelly. The words were strung out in a low, lazy drawl. “And who might be calling?”
She watched his lips twitch slightly at the corners and wondered what kind of a man would welcome this impertinent servant into his employ. What in God’s name must J.T. Harrington be like?
“My name i
s Jade Douglas.” She wished she had her hands clenched tightly about Babs’s slender neck right now. Instead, she opted for twisting the drawstrings on her reticule.
He stepped aside and indicated that she follow him. Hesitantly, she walked into the wide entry hall and quickly assessed the high-vaulted ceiling, the chandelier that dangled from it with its deluge of crystal droplets, the marble floor beneath her feet. Her attention was drawn to the sound of the spurs attached to the man’s boots. She cringed at the thought of those spurs scraping against the highly polished marble or the shining oak floors that stretched beyond a series of doorways that ringed the foyer.
“Mighty neighborly of you to call, Miss Douglas.”
Overawed by her surroundings, she jumped at the sound of his voice, realizing she had nearly forgotten him. His drawl seemed to have lengthened. The intent way he was staring at her did little to quell her uneasiness. Were they all alone? She tried again. “I would like to see Mr. Harrington. Now.”
The smile no longer merely teased his lips. It eased across his face and became full blown to reveal a wide grin. This was no grizzled older man. He was much younger than she had first assumed. His grin lightened the dark look of him, subtracted years from the creases of his sun-darkened face.
Jason Harrington stared just as curiously at Jade, and could not believe his good fortune. He had almost ignored the incessant knock when he had first heard it, but now, as he stood staring down at the green-eyed beauty next to him, he forgave the intrusion and forgot all about his grumbling stomach.
J.T. had never believed in love at first sight. He realized as he marveled at his immediate, overwhelming attraction to Jade Douglas that he had never been knocked off his feet by the sight of a woman before. While he stared back at her, he absently ran his fingers over his stubbled jaw. He’d never experienced vanity before either, but just now he wished he’d taken a bath and shaved the minute he had arrived.
He wondered what had brought her to his door, then immediately decided he would not mind taking the rest of the afternoon to find out. “What do you want with him?”
Jade stiffened. “Pardon me?”
“Why do you want to see J.T. Harrington?”
Jade tensed and took a step toward the door. “If you aren’t going to call him, then I’ll get going.”
Jason couldn’t resist looping his thumbs in his back pockets and rolling on his heels. He eyed her speculatively again and decided she was clearly the best looking woman he had ever laid eyes on—with or without the fancy clothes. Then he slowly shrugged and said, “Whatever you want with J.T. does concern me, Miss Douglas. I am Jason Harrington. J.T. to my friends.” He started to extend the hand that held the spatula, switched it over, offered the other, and continued to smile down on her while she decided whether or not to take his proffered hand.
For a moment Jade stared, speechless. The strong, lean fingers, the sprinkling of golden hair across the back of his hand and up the arm that showed below his upturned sleeve—her gaze captured it all, even to the crescent-shaped scar above the base of his thumb. Jade caught herself staring, and wondered at her own reaction. Recovering quickly, she made it clear she had no intention of touching him, and watched him push the brim of his hat upward with his thumb until the disreputable thing rode upon the back of his head. No longer shadowed, his azure eyes stared down at her with undisguised amusement and a hint of admiration.
Jade experienced a deep sense of foreboding. The obviously empty house loomed about her, the silence nearly deafening. Each breath she drew was magnified by the cold wood and marble emptiness. He was staring at her the way a cat might stare at a cornered mouse. Her feeling of unease intensified as he closed the front door behind her.
Jade finally found her voice and asked, “Where are the servants?”
“Out of a job, it seems. The place is for sale. Now, what can I do for you, Miss Douglas?”
He was direct, asking her again like that. Too direct, when it came right down to it. She watched him assess every inch of her. While she stood motionless, wondering what he would think if she turned on her heel and walked out without another word, he looked her up and down and up again. Didn’t he know that his slow perusal was not only embarrassing, but improper?
Without pausing to think of the consequences, she decided to pay him back in kind. Her gaze traveled away from his eyes, past the open collar of his shirt, down the neat row of buttons on his vest, jumped the crotch of his denims to his sadly scuffed boots, then shot hastily back up to his eyes. There. Let him taste a little of his own medicine.
It would have been easier if her cheeks had not tinted with color when she avoided staring dead center at the front of his pants. What started as a swift once-over had taken forever because of his height. At five-foot-ten she was in the habit of meeting men eye-to-eye, if not actually looking down at some of them. But Jason Terrell Harrington had to be at least six-foot-three. At least. She was forced to look up at him.
Under his rough exterior and well-worn clothes there was an all too easy sensuality about him—one that tempted her to guess what he would look like washed, dressed, and groomed like a gentleman. Jade paused to wonder where the idea came from, for she had certainly never entertained thoughts of a man in such terms before. While she lived in Paris, she had been intent on her studies. Neither the urge nor the opportunity had ever arisen. Before that time, there had only been her mother to care for, and her grandfather’s dream.
The only thing that kept her from running out the door and down the drive was the fact that J.T. Harrington stood three feet away waiting for an explanation.
Her mind whirled and the words nearly stuck in her throat, but she finally managed to blurt out, “I . . . I’ve come to welcome you to San Francisco.”
Even as the words escaped her they sounded absurd. She watched the man wage a silent battle against outright laughter as the lines about his eyes deepened and his lips twitched. He rubbed a hand over his square jaw.
Jade straightened, affronted by his show of humor at her expense. “And now that I have, I’ll be going.”
Jason stepped between Jade and the door. “No need to be hasty, Miss Douglas.”
When he leaned against the dark wood and casually crossed his booted feet, Jade glanced around, searching for another exit. She had no idea which door would lead her to the rear of the house.
“At least stay until you tell me why you’re really here.”
“I have.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?”
“Your eyes tell me you’re lying. They’re very open, very honest.”
“I’m staying with a friend, Barbara Barrett, and she suggested it would be the polite thing to do to come by and welcome you to San Francisco.”
His eyes took in the empty room and flashed back to Jade. “A friend? Where is your friend, Miss Douglas?”
Her expression darkened. “She became ill, quite suddenly in fact, and had to leave just as we arrived. I knocked only because I thought that perhaps one of your servants could take me home. I’m sorry now that I did, because I see I’ve inconvenienced you.”
He didn’t budge, except to cross his arms over his chest. “Tell me more about this friend of yours. The one who so mysteriously left you on my doorstep.”
Jade knew he had every right to be suspicious. After all, hadn’t Babs indeed meant for her to meet him because of his money? The fact that she wanted nothing to do with such a plan could not help her now. She would have to do some fast talking to convince him that her visit was as innocent as she claimed, at least on her part.
“I’ve just returned to San Francisco myself, and my hostess, Barbara Barrett—her husband is Reginald Barrett—maybe you know him?” When he shook his head, she continued anyway. “Well, Babs decided we should welcome you to town and see if we might be of
any assistance to you.”
One brow slowly arched as his gaze turned skeptical. “Help me how?”
What now? she wondered. She took stock of him again. His stance and mocking smile were beginning to irritate her. She had given him a reason for her appearance on his doorstep, and as implausible as it sounded, she wondered what right he had demanding further explanation of her.
Too tired to deal with J.T. Harrington any longer, Jade drew herself up and managed what she hoped was a frosty tone. “Why, it’s obvious, Mr. Harrington, that you need all the help you can get in the way of social introductions and refinement. Polish, if you will.”
Jason could not help but laugh. He hoped his mother was not looking down on him now, for she had spent hours and taken great pains to see that he became versed in the refined manners and strict code of ethics that all southern gentlemen were supposed to live by. “So, you decided before meeting me to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear? Is that it, Miss Douglas?”
For the first time that afternoon, Jade found herself smiling. He was disarming, she would grant him that. Babs was not here to defend herself, Jade decided, so she said, “It was my friend’s idea.”
“And now that you’ve seen me, I guess you would agree.”
“Really, Mr. Harrington, I—”
“Stay for a bite to eat,” he said as he lifted the spatula again, “then I’ll see you get home safely, if that’s really what you want.” Despite her protests, he couldn’t believe her sudden visit was as innocent as she claimed.
“That’s definitely what I want.” Knowing full well that they were alone in the house, Jade knew she should insist on leaving, but when she looked up at Jason Harrington and found him waiting so expectantly for her answer, she found herself wanting to stay. “You have no cook,” she said.
“I can cook.”
“You?” Somehow she couldn’t imagine this man at home around pots and pans.
Her challenging tone provided Jason with just the excuse he needed to keep her with him a while longer. He stepped around her and headed for the kitchen, hoping she would follow him. “Come on. I’ll prove it to you.”
Jade Page 5