She lifted her chin. Her fiancé had built this. And he’d rebuilt it after each of the great fires. He’d written to her of his employer’s insistence that Daniel be the one to oversee the building project and personally complete all the unique design elements that made this house a masterpiece. Mr. Davidson’s steadfast faith in the quality of Daniel’s work, and his reliance on Daniel to take on his unending list of projects, was one of the reasons Daniel had given for his delayed return to her.
Richard knocked and, moments later, a negro man in a servants’ uniform opened the door. “May I help you?”
“My name is Richard Stevens and this is my sister, Miss Alice Stevens. We’d like an audience with Mr. Davidson if it’s not too much trouble.”
“I’m sorry to inform you that Mr. Davidson is not at home.”
Richard frowned. “May we wait on him? We’re searching for an employee of his, Mr. Daniel Clarke.” Richard gestured to Alice. “This is his fiancée. We’ve been to Mr. Clarke’s home, but the gentleman there told us he’d moved on. We’re hoping, as his employer, Mr. Davidson might know where he’s gone.”
The servant’s eyes grew wide as Richard spoke.
Alice’s breath caught. He knew something. She leaned forward. “We won’t be any trouble, I promise. It’s important that we find Daniel as soon as possible. Please, may we wait?”
The servant stepped back. “Please, come in.”
Alice exhaled and followed Richard into the elegant foyer.
The servant closed the door before taking their bags and setting them to the side. He opened another door and motioned for them to enter a parlor that could have held its own among the best homes in Boston. “Please wait here while I see if Mrs. Davidson is available.”
Alice paused beside a tufted, velvet settee. “There’s no need to trouble her. We don’t mind waiting on our own.” She cocked her head. “Or perhaps you have information you might share with us?”
The man backed away. “If you’ll excuse me. Mrs. Davidson will want to be informed of your presence. Please, wait here.”
“Certainly.” Richard nodded and the servant disappeared down the hall. Richard waved at the door. “What was that about?”
She shrugged. “I thought he knew something. He wore such an odd expression when you mentioned Daniel.” She surveyed the furniture. Which of these beautiful pieces could be attributed to Daniel’s skill?
Richard strode to the window, where he stared out at the fading light. “If Davidson doesn’t return soon, perhaps we can prevail upon his wife to keep you while I find us suitable accommodations for the night.”
“That’s rather presumptuous, Richard.”
“It is, but I’m hoping she’ll be sympathetic to our situation and understand why I’m reluctant to have you wandering the streets with me after dark.”
Alice stomped her foot. “You promised that if I came to California, I’d be through with begging for a place to stay. Was Benjamin’s rejection not enough humiliation for you? What happened to a fresh start? No more scandals, no more feeling like parasites?”
Richard spread his arms. “What would you like me to say? It never occurred to me that we wouldn’t be able to find Daniel when we arrived. You told me he’d been living at the same address for years.”
She sniffed. “Well, he had.”
“Well, all right.” Richard spun toward the window. “I’m doing the best I can. I’m sorry if it isn’t enough for your highness.”
Alice flinched. He was right. She wasn’t being fair. But this whole situation wasn’t fair. Why must she constantly be at the mercy of other people’s decisions? First Father and Mother, then Richard, then Benjamin, and now Daniel. When would she get a say in her life?
Several minutes later, an elegantly coiffed woman entered wearing a pale blue dress patterned with delicate pink roses. She paused in the open doorway, inspecting them from head to toe.
This must be Mrs. Davidson. Alice held her breath. Thank goodness she’d convinced that clerk to let them freshen up. But was it enough? She resisted the urge to recheck her skirts.
Their hostess stepped forward with a warm smile. “Hello. I understand you wish to speak with my husband.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Richard Stevens.” He bowed and then motioned Alice forward. “And may I present my sister, Miss Alice Stevens?”
Alice bobbed a curtsy.
Mrs. Davidson dipped her chin. “Pleased to meet you.”
“We’re terribly sorry to arrive unannounced like this.” Alice suppressed the urge to tug at her glove. “I hope it isn’t too inconvenient, our waiting here for your husband.”
“It’s no inconvenience at all.” She motioned to the settee. “Please do be seated. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. May I offer you some refreshments?”
They sat where indicated.
Richard spoke at the same moment as Alice.
“No, thank you—”
“Yes, if it’s not too much trouble.” No doubt the tea in such a fine home would banish all memory of the retched hot water they’d called ‘tea’ aboard the ship.
“No trouble at all.” Mrs. Davidson pulled a cord before lowering herself to one of the matching chairs. A moment later, a flushed maid appeared in the open doorway. Mrs. Davidson instructed her to bring tea and a tray, then regarded Alice and Richard. “Now, tell me. What brings you to San Francisco? You are newly arrived, are you not?”
Alice nodded. “We arrived this afternoon.”
“And have you found a place to stay?”
“Well—”
The front door opened.
A tall man shuffled inside. His shoulders were hunched, his brown hair mussed. His glasses were perched cockeyed on his nose, and he appeared to have encountered the same careless wagon that marred Alice’s dress earlier.
The servant appeared and took the man’s outer coat. “You have guests, sir.”
Alice’s nose wrinkled. This was Mr. Davidson?
The bedraggled man turned toward them. “Oh!” He straightened and strode into the parlor. “Have you come about my niece? Do you know where she is?”
Alice blinked and exchanged a confused glance with Richard as they all rose and stepped forward to greet their host.
“Henry, this is Mr. Richard Stevens and his sister, Miss Alice Stevens.” She glanced down at the muddy boot prints her husband had tracked across the floor, then back to her weary husband. “They’ve been waiting to speak with you, but I’m certain they won’t mind waiting a bit longer while you freshen up. You have had a long and trying day.”
“Nonsense. I’m perfectly well.” His eager gaze hopped from Richard to Alice and back again. “What do you know of my niece’s whereabouts?”
“Nothing, I’m afraid.” Richard shrugged. “We’ve come about a different matter.”
Alice cringed as Mr. Davidson plopped onto the settee in the spot Richard had vacated. She gathered her skirt away from his mud-splattered trousers. Would the maid be able to remove the mud being pressed into the velvet?
Mr. Davidson raked his hands through his hair. “It’s hopeless. I’ve looked everywhere. I’ve even searched the brothels and cribs in case she’d been kidnapped”—Mrs. Davidson gasped and sank onto her chair as he continued, tears welling his blood-shot eyes—“but there’s no trace of her. It’s like she’s vanished into thin air.”
Alice sat on a chair opposite the settee. How should she respond to such an uncouth display of emotion?
Richard took Alice’s former position on the settee.
Mrs. Davidson straightened. “My dear, if you would but listen to me, there would be no need to overextend yourself like this.”
“I have listened to you, and I refuse to believe Eliza ran off with some delivery boy. Especially without leaving me word. She wouldn’t do that.”
Mrs. Davidson’s spine straightened and her hard gaze darted to Richard and then Alice. Her silent message was clear—this conversation was to remain private.
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Mrs. Davidson regarded her husband. “I know how much you hoped for your niece’s future, Henry. Heaven knows I did my best for her while she was here, but some people simply cannot be made fit for society. We must learn to accept this and move on.” She shifted toward Richard. “Now, Mr. Stevens, what was it you wished to speak with my husband about?”
Alice shifted in her seat. It seemed their arrival could not have come at a more inopportune time for the Davidsons. How humiliating to have a relation with such low morals.
“My sister and I are looking for a man we understand to be in your employ. Mr. Daniel Clarke.”
Mr. Davidson removed his spectacles and cleaned them with the hem of his shirt, then replaced them. “What business have you with Mr. Clarke?”
“My sister is his fiancée.”
It seemed impossible, but Mr. Davidson’s expression grew even more distressed with this revelation.
“But he’s gone.”
Alice leaned forward. “That’s what the man at his address said. We were hoping, as his employer, you might know where he’s moved to.”
“No. I mean, he’s gone. Sailed back to The States. He told us he was returning to you.”
Cold washed over her. “But he can’t have gone. He never said...” Or had he? The bundle of unopened letters in her carpetbag convicted her.
She’d assumed his recent missives were filled with the same message they held the last three years. “I miss you. I love you. As soon as this new project is complete, I’ll pack my bags and return to you.” Yet he never did, and after the events of last summer, she was unable to bring herself to read his loving words and empty promises. Particularly as they must now be accompanied by questions regarding her lengthy silence.
Even after she boarded the ship to California with Richard, there seemed no point in opening the letters. She would see Daniel soon enough. He could tell her whatever she needed to know in person.
Her gaze traveled to their bags in the foyer. Had Daniel written of his plans to return in one of those letters? Surely not. He would have written to his mother as well and she would have wanted to discuss wedding plans with Alice. No. Mrs. Clarke hadn’t mentioned a thing, so he must not have written.
Mrs. Davidson leaned forward. “I’m sorry, but my husband is correct. Mr. Clarke departed on the Virginia more than two weeks ago.”
Richard frowned at Mrs. Davidson. “But I read that the Virginia wrecked off the coast of San Diego.”
Alice’s vision blurred. No.
Mr. Davidson waved a hand. “It did, but few lives were lost, and Mr. Clarke’s name was not listed among them.”
She sucked in air. Daniel’s alive.
Richard’s expression smoothed. “Then he continued on to Massachusetts with those who survived?”
“I presume.” Mr. Davidson shrugged. “We’ve not received word either way.”
The maid returned with the requested refreshments, set them on a small table near their hostess, and left again.
Mrs. Davidson poured four cups of tea. “What a terribly long way to come, only to have to turn back again.” She tried to give the first cup to her husband, but he waved it away and snagged a slice of bread from the tray. So she handed the cup to Richard and then offered one to Alice.
“But we can’t go back.” Alice accepted the offered cup. She’d counted her money while they were at the store. She might have enough funds to secure a single-night’s accommodation—if the rates were the same as what Daniel had written they were. And Richard needed every cent he’d saved to sustain him until he found employment with one of the mining companies farther inland. Even if she could somehow come up with the exorbitant sum the shipping companies required for passage to the east, who would be her chaperone?
Mr. and Mrs. Davidson exchanged a glance.
Their hostess set her cup in its saucer on the table and folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t mean to be indelicate, but is it the trial of the journey or the expense of it that makes you speak so?”
Richard lowered his cup. “It’s true we lack the funds to purchase a return ticket, but it wouldn’t matter if we did. I mean to remain in California.” He cast a grimace toward Alice. “Alice would have no escort.”
“I see.” Mrs. Davidson appeared thoughtful as she appraised Alice’s appearance once more.
Mr. Davidson stood and ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, but might we continue this conversation at a later time? I do need to eat something more than bread before I resume my search.”
Mrs. Davidson reared back. “You’re going back out? At this hour?”
“I told you. I’ll not rest until I know what’s become of her.” He bowed to Alice and Richard. “If you’ll excuse me.” He strode from the room.
Mrs. Davidson’s mouth hung open a moment as she stared after her husband. Then she closed it and turned their direction. “Please forgive him. As you can see, he is not himself.”
“Of course.”
Mrs. Davidson returned to studying Alice in a way that made her sit straight and smooth her skirts. Their hostess glanced at Richard and then out the window to where night had engulfed the city. “Am I correct in assuming you have not secured accommodations for the evening?”
Richard blew out a breath. “I’m afraid we’ve been too busy searching for Mr. Clarke.”
“Well, we can’t have a lady like your sister wandering the streets at this hour.” She stood, causing Richard and Alice to rise as well. “You’re both welcome to stay for the evening, and if the situation proves mutually agreeable, we may discuss the possibility of an extended stay to-morrow. How does that sound?”
Eliza burst into the cabin and slammed the door behind her, waking poor Ysabel.
“Sorry.” Eliza dropped the basket to the floor and flung herself face down on the pallet, sobbing into the blankets.
Instead of lecturing her on decorum as Cecilia would have, Ysabel crossed the cabin and sat beside Eliza. She stroked Eliza’s hair.
Several minutes later, Eliza’s breathing was still ragged, but the raw agony of Daniel’s rejection was fading to a dull ache. She’d expected it, deserved it even. What kind of woman falls in love with another woman’s fiancée? There was no denying the attraction between them, but Daniel was far too good to let his feelings develop beyond that.
If only she had been as strong.
Her stuffy nose made it difficult to continue breathing with her face pressed into the blankets. She pushed herself to a sitting position and her stepmother’s hand fell away. Eliza kept her chin down. She couldn’t face Ysabel’s pity.
After a moment, the woman patted Eliza’s back and returned to her own bed. Seconds later, Ysabel’s soft breathing resumed. She’d fallen asleep again.
Eliza lay back on her pallet and stared at the ceiling.
What was she to do?
A knock on the cabin door roused her. When had she fallen asleep? No light pierced the cracks in the walls and the temperature had lowered several degrees while she’d been sleeping.
Ysabel’s bed was empty. When had she left? Was it suppertime? Maria must have come to fetch her for the meal.
Sliding to her feet, Eliza hurried to the door. Her hand on the latch, she paused. Why would Maria knock and not enter? It had to be one of the men. Had Andrew come to fetch her? What if they’d sent Daniel? The stirrings of hunger vanished.
She leaned toward the closed door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Daniel. May I speak with you?”
She drew back. What was there left to say? His pity for her had been clear enough this afternoon. She didn’t need another apology. It wasn’t his fault she let her emotions get away from her.
She should tell him to leave. The sooner he returned to Alice, the sooner she could forget him. No, that wasn’t right. She could never forget Daniel. But perhaps if he left, this ache in her chest might begin to dull. Eventually.
His voice came through the door again. “I wanted you to know tha
t I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“What?” She pressed her palm against the door. “Where are you going?”
“Back to San Diego. Back to Boston.”
What? Her knees weakened. She opened her mouth but couldn’t speak.
“I know I promised to see you safely reunited with your Pa, but I think you’re safe here with Andrew and Maria and Ysabel. I’m going to speak with Andrew. I’m certain he’ll agree to look out for you until your Pa returns.”
Daniel leaned his forehead against the door. Say something, Eliza. Anything. Argue with me if you want to. Yes, please argue with me. Convince me to stay. And not because you need my assistance, but because you want me.
He straightened. What was he thinking?
This was exactly why he needed to go. He needed to leave before he did something to dishonor himself. God expected a man to keep his word. He’d promised Alice his heart, but if he remained with this incredible woman any longer, he’d be in serious danger of breaking that promise.
He stepped away, but Eliza’s soft voice stopped him.
“What time will you leave?”
He faced the closed door, imagining her on the other side. Were there tears in her eyes as there had been this afternoon? He wanted to punch himself for hurting her. “As soon as there’s light enough to see the trail.”
She didn’t respond.
When another minute passed in silence, he whispered, “God bless you, Eliza.” Then he trudged to the Coopers’ lean-to for the last time.
Chapter 34
The familiar thwack of an axe biting into a distant log lured Eliza outside. The sun was kissing the tops of the trees. Another thwack cut the silence. It was coming from the Coopers’ yard. She peered toward the rise separating the two cabins. Daniel had been adding to the couple’s woodpile every morning. Were those his blows striking wood? Had he changed his mind?
She hurried back inside and spent a few extra minutes twisting the sides of her hair so that they swooped over her ears and tucked into a twisted bun, low on her neck. After a quick check in her small hand-mirror, she left Ysabel still sleeping in her bed and hurried toward the Coopers’ Cabin.
Waltz in the Wilderness Page 24