Lady Sundown (#1 of the Danner Quartet)

by Nancy Bush

  “Is that baby Jace Garrett’s?” he asked in a deadly voice.

  “It ain’t nobody else’s,” Betsy maintained, lifting her chin.

  “And does the prospective father know?”

  Jenny bustled over to him, clasping his arm. “Yes, he knows,” she said, trying to hurry him downstairs.

  “And I haven’t seen him for months!” Betsy suddenly wailed, throwing her hands over her face and bursting into sobs.

  Tremaine shook off Jenny’s anxious hands and stared at the overwhelming evidence of Jace’s perfidy. He’d done this to Lexie. “Gossip must be rampant,” he said without humor.

  “If you’re worrying if your sister knows, don’t be!” Jenny said. “Betsy’s been doing her best to protect Jace, which is unnecessary as far as I’m concerned,” she added heartily, her eyes glaring meaningfully into Betsy’s.

  “It don’t matter if he doesn’t come to me. I’ve got part of him.”

  Tremaine inwardly groaned. He’d heard those same words so many times from some of his most pathetic cases. Women who’d given up everything in the hopes the man they “loved” would come to his senses and marry them.

  “What’re you gonna do?” Betsy asked, as he turned on his heel.

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Fortune’s hoofbeats were a calming rhythm but they couldn’t quell the fury seething inside Tremaine’s chest. He was possessed of the urgent need to strangle Jace Garrett, and all the way to Portland he entertained himself with a dozen different bloody scenarios. He didn’t give a damn about Jace personally, but he cared a lot about how Jace’s actions affected Lexie. And considering the blooming state of Betsy Talbot’s waist, Jace had a great deal to answer for.

  Betsy’s weeping, whether feigned or real, had gotten to him. “Don’t do anything!” she’d begged in anguish, chasing him onto the street, soaking Tremaine’s shirt with a flood of tears. “Don’t tell your sister about me. It’ll only make him hate me!”

  “You should have never let that man have what he wanted,” Jenny had put in with asperity. “You can’t trust a Garrett. Don’t you know that by now?”

  “I love him,” she sniffed miserably. “I love him!”

  Tremaine had heard all the declarations of love for Jason Garrett he could stand. “He’s been spending a lot of time at my father’s. Because of Lexie,” he pointed out gently.

  “Oh, yeah,” Betsy cried bitterly. “He wants a lady, like that mother of yours. He don’t want trash like me! He won’t even admit the baby’s his!”

  Tremaine wasn’t surprised, considering Jace’s slimy character. He ground his back teeth together, flexing his hands on the reins. Thank God Lexie was spending a year at Miss Everly’s School. Maybe she would finally wake up and realize that Jace Garrett wasn’t the man for her.

  Chapter Seven

  Lexie stared up at the imposing brick building and hid the shiver of revulsion that shook her willowy frame. MISS EVERLY’S SCHOOL FOR YOUNG LADIES was stamped into the iron plaque above the school’s front archway, and the building’s evenly spaced rectangular windows seemed to gloat with evil.

  The place looked like some kind of hellish prison.

  Eliza stood on the front steps beside her daughter. Reaching for Lexie’s hand, she squeezed it gently. “I hope you like it a little,” she said softly. “Please try.”

  Lexie regarded her mother soberly. Eliza wore a dark blue brocade dress with a silk hat and veil. She looked more like Lexie’s contemporary than her mother. Swallowing, Lexie’s gaze swept over her own burnt-orange lawn dress. She felt sorely lacking in comparison — choked by the constraining corset, her head itching beneath the mink-brown veiled hat. Heaving an inward sigh, she lifted a gloved hand to the bell.

  The door was opened by a shrew-faced maid, who tightened her lips at the same time Lexie tightened her resolve. The maid showed them through the gloomy but spotless entry room, down a chandelier-lit passage to an equally gloomy parlor. The only sign of life in the room was the faded pink roses scattered across the wallpaper.

  A dark-haired woman of indiscriminate age and a stony expression glided into the room. “Good afternoon,” she said, dismissing the maid with a nod of her regal head. “You must be Mrs. Danner.”

  “Yes, and this is Lexington,” Eliza said.

  Lexie executed a short curtsy, growing more panicky by the minute. So this was Miss Everly, she thought rebelliously, staring at the daunting woman, and was therefore shocked when the woman said, “I’m Hildegarde Lawrence. Miss Everly will be right in. Please make yourselves comfortable,” she added, gesturing toward the rosewood chairs before disappearing through the door.

  “Who’s she?” Lexie asked aloud, but Eliza didn’t know.

  Pa and Samuel brought in Lexie’s luggage, the somber rooms seeming to hush their footsteps. They all stood silently in the parlor until a thin woman with gray hair caught in a severe bun and a benevolent smile fixed on her unpainted lips, stepped into the room. “I’m Margaret Everly,” she introduced herself. “And you must be Lexington. Welcome to my school.”

  She reached out a hand, which Lexie accepted. Miss Everly smelled faintly of perfume and cough syrup, and her hand was dry and papery. “How do you do,” Lexie murmured.

  “Fine. Fine.” She nodded sagely and Lexie wasn’t certain whether Miss Everly had answered her question or passed judgment on her acceptability.

  The gray-haired schoolmistress instructed Pa and Samuel to take Lexie’s luggage upstairs, adding to Lexie, “Your trunk’s already been delivered.”

  Tremaine. Lexie’s throat felt raw with unnamed misery. It was difficult to pull her mind back to her mother’s conversation.

  Miss Everly and Eliza discussed future dates and plans, as Lexie stood in silent introspection. Feeling the room close in around her. It was a thousand times worse than she’d imagined! This dreary cavern was beyond her vilest nightmares.

  Before she fully realized it, Eliza and Pa were saying their goodbyes. “…If there’s anything you need, please write and let us know.” Her mother squeezed her hand reassuringly.

  Lexie nodded. “I will.”

  “I shall, Lexie. I shall,” she murmured, pulling nervously on her gloves.

  “All right, I shall,” Lexie said dispiritedly. To her amazement her mother suppressed a chuckle, then gave her a hard hug.

  “You’ll do fine,” she assured her. “By the way, I have a surprise for you.”

  “A surprise?” Knowing her mother, she was almost afraid to ask.

  “I spoke to Jason Garrett and he’s coming to Portland this evening to christen your adventure, so to speak. I thought it might be nice for Miss Everly to meet him.”

  Lexie was speechless. “Jace is coming here?” she asked blankly.

  “He wanted to surprise you, but you look so terribly depressed I couldn’t wait.” She brushed her finger alongside Lexie’s cheek. “If all goes well, he’ll be here around eight tonight.”

  Lexie was dumbstruck, as much by her mother’s thoughtfulness as the fact Jace was driving to Portland to see her. She would have hugged Eliza back, but the strain in their relationship prevented her. “Thank you,” she said, swallowing against a lump in her throat.

  Miss Everly, who had discreetly allowed them private goodbyes, reappeared to show Pa, Eliza, and Samuel out. As soon as the door closed behind them, the schoolmistress invited Lexie on a tour through the building. Each room was more ghastly than the last. But Miss Everly was so obviously proud of the house that Lexie murmured words of appreciation. Other attendees were arriving by the hour so Miss Everly handed Lexie over to the taciturn Hildegarde. Hildegarde finished up the tour without a word, showing Lexie the dining room, kitchen, and small outdoor garden.

  “The livery’s around the corner,” she managed to impart as she led Lexie back to the parlor.

  “We do get out, then?” Lexie asked with a straight face.

  “Yes, miss.�
�� Hildegarde’s dour expression was totally devoid of humor. “Many times.”

  Baffled by Lexie’s unrestrained fit of nervous giggles, she left Lexie with the crowd of other new recruits. One of the young women was as blond as Lexie, but her face had the smooth plumpness of a pampered angel. She slid Lexie a look out of the corner of her eye that set all Lexie’s feminine defenses on instant alert.

  Trouble, Lexie thought woefully, vowing to steer clear of this new arrival.

  Upstairs in her room, she put her clothes away in one of the twin bureaus pushed against the far wall. Her trunk was sitting beneath one window and Lexie removed the key from her satchel — a gift from her mother — and opened the lock. All the new clothes Eliza had purchased came tumbling out and Lexie carefully shook them and hung them in the closet.

  She was nearly finished when she saw the faded Turkish split skirt. She eyed it, frowning. She hadn’t packed it and she knew her mother wouldn’t have. Miss Everly would no more permit Lexie’s wearing it than she would allow a man in her upstairs bedroom. Curious, Lexie picked it up and a piece of paper floated to the floor.

  With disbelief, Lexie read Tremaine’s scrawling hand: You might need this yet. Good luck, Tremaine.

  Lexie sank down on the foot of the bed, clutching the garment, perilously close to tears. Then she folded up the slip of paper and put it in her top dresser drawer. She’d managed to push thoughts of what she’d termed The Kiss to the back of her mind during the last two busy weeks. Now, however, they tumbled vividly around inside her head. She didn’t even have to close her eyes to recall the devastating harshness of his mouth, the firm feel of his hands, the insistence of his hard thighs. The room seemed to pitch and sway.

  “Damn corset,” Lexie muttered, her eyes flying open, just as the door to the room creaked behind her.

  A red-haired girl with freckles staggered in, heaving a valise onto the opposite bed with a world-weary groan. “I hate them, too,” she admitted, “but my parents think I need to wear one to catch a beau. Personally I don’t think there’s much chance of that anyway. Hello, I’m Ella.” She dusted off her hand and stretched it in Lexie’s direction.

  “I’m Lexie. Are you my roommate?”

  “Looks like it.” Ella flopped down on the bed and the valise slipped off the edge to land on it catches. The lid flew open and Ella’s clothes fairly bounded onto the floor. She sighed. “Oh, for God’s sakes.”

  Lexie liked her immediately. With a silent prayer of thanks that the blond girl she’d seen downstairs hadn’t been chosen as her roommate, Lexie sat on the edge of her own bed. “Are you glad to be here?”

  Ella rolled an eye in Lexie’s direction. “I would rather be a laborer in my father’s shipyard.”

  “Your father owns a shipyard?”

  Ella grunted and turned on her side, her back to Lexie. “Would you undo this thing? I can’t stand one more minute. No wonder women faint. I can barely see straight.”

  Lexie quickly undid the buttons of Ella’s dress and untied the long strings to her corset. Sighing with relief, Ella said, “My father doesn’t own a shipyard anymore. He sold out to Silas Monteith. You’ve heard of the Monteiths?”

  Lexie shook her head.

  “They own a string of the biggest shipyards around and, believe me, they let everybody know it.” Ella’s dark eyes examined Lexie curiously. “I’ve never seen you before. Are you from San Francisco? Or Seattle?”

  “No, I—” For a moment Lexie wasn’t certain how to respond. She was distinctly aware of the differences between her background and Ella’s. But then she tossed her head and said, “I live on a farm near Rock Springs.”

  “A farm? Rock Springs?” Ella’s mouth curved in amused surprise. “Where’s that?”

  “About twenty miles southeast of here.”

  “Well, what are you doing here?”

  There was no malice in Ella’s question, just a natural, lively curiosity that Lexie responded to immediately. “The devil if I know.”

  They both laughed and Ella, who had shimmied her bulky frame from her dress and corset, lay back against her pillow in just her camisole and drawers. It was scandalous, Lexie supposed, but then she’d never had any sisters to share with.

  “Maybe this won’t be so bad after all,” Ella commented. “Except Celeste’s here.” She made a face.

  “Celeste?”

  “Monteith’s daughter. She got here just before I did. Good breeding should keep me from speaking my mind, but it hasn’t worked yet.” Ella grinned. “Celeste’s a pain in the—” She pointed to her sumptuous derrière.

  Lexie had a burning memory of the angel-faced blond and knew instinctively this was Celeste Monteith. But the knowledge skipped away like water over smooth stones. Ella was here, and now Miss Everly’s School would be bearable.

  Their introduction was cut short by the bell that called them to dinner. Ella shrugged back into her corset and gown, muttering curses under her breath that kept a grin on Lexie’s face all through the meal. There were thirty-odd girls, and Lexie’s opinion of them wasn’t much improved by their petulant actions and shortsighted goals.

  “What are your plans, Lexington?” Miss Everly asked down the table.

  Lexie, who had decided on meeting Ella to embark on a trip of honesty, said distinctly, “I would like to become a horse doctor.”

  “A what?” one of the girls asked.

  “A horse doctor.” Lexie hid a smile and accepted a roll from a passing plate.

  “My Gawd,” a voice drawled from somewhere down the length of the table.

  Miss Everly said in a philosophical tone, “We all come to this school with dreams. Not all will be realized. But one dream will: when you leave here you’ll all be changed. You’ll have grown. You’ll be more than young women, you’ll be ladies.”

  Lexie choked on the dust-dry roll and met Ella’s gaze across the table. Ella was amused, but Lexie, catching the horrified looks being sent her way, realized Miss Everly had, in her own misguided way, sought to keep Lexie from ridicule. Celeste Monteith, who as Lexie had surmised was indeed the angelic blond, opened her blue eyes wide. “A horse doctor!” she announced with a delicate shudder.

  Lexie sent her a sweet smile and ground her back teeth together in the process.

  Lexie was on the way back to her room when Hildegarde announced flatly to anyone standing nearby, “There’s a gentleman caller to see Ms. Danner.”

  Jace! Anxious to see anyone familiar and dear, Lexie raced to the front door. “Jace!” she cried, as he handed the maid his hat and coat.

  He looked incredibly dashing, his coppery hair reflecting the chandelier’s spangles of light. “Hello, Lexie. Your mother—”

  “I know, I know. I’m so glad you came!”

  Jace’s gaze swept over her, noting the fullness of her breasts, the desperate sparkle in her eyes. Lexie had grown steadily more distant over the summer and he’d been flailing himself with recriminations, worried his gentlemanly conduct had been the wrong tack. Maybe he should have just thrown her down on the barn hay and had his way with her. Maybe that was the only way to treat her.

  But now he knew his original plan had paid off. The way her fingers clutched his arm made him want to shout with triumph. He smiled, clasping his fingers down hard over hers. “You are so beautiful,” he told her.

  The delighted flush that spread across her cheeks made his pulse quicken. “Jace,” she whispered, horrified to realize her eyes were filling with tears.

  “What is it, darling?”

  Lexie shook her head. How could she explain all the doubts she’d been feeling? Doubts Tremaine had magnified with one fateful kiss? And she was so miserable here. If only he would take her away from this awful place.

  “Lexie.” His voice was a harsh rasp. His fingers tightened over hers. She glanced up. His features were drawn and tight.

  “What?” she whispered, afraid.

  His other hand found her waist and he began to pull her forward. L
exie drew back, suddenly sure she didn’t want to be kissed. The thought of his lips finding hers was singularly repelling. When he bent downward, she jerked her head away so that his lips missed their mark, trailing along her cheek.

  What the devil was the matter with her?

  The dry sound of someone clearing her throat sounded behind Lexie’s head. Miss Everly smiled benevolently. “Miss Danner, it would be more seemly if you waited for your guest in the parlor. I will show him in.”

  Relieved, Lexie did as the schoolmistress suggested, but she could feel Jace’s anger. Several of the other girls were already in the parlor and they whispered together, casting sly glances at Lexie and Jace. There was absolutely no privacy at all — and Lexie was almost glad.

  But Miss Everly shooed the other girls from the room, leaving the door slightly ajar after her. It was clear a Miss Everly lady wasn’t to be left alone with a gentleman. Even so, Jace grabbed Lexie, startling a cry from her. “I thought you were glad to see me,” he said softly. “But you never want to kiss me.”

  “I don’t want to kiss you?”

  “You’re afraid of my slightest touch. You know it won’t be that way when we’re married.”

  “Yes, I know. But you’re wrong, Jace. I do want to kiss you. It’s just — you’ve held back so long and I thought it was because — you didn’t want to kiss me.”

  “You do want me then?”

  Jace was looking at her so intently it made Lexie squirm. Yes, she wanted him. She wanted him to take her away from here!

  “Why don’t you show me?” he suggested silkily. “Maybe then I won’t have to hold back.”

  Tremaine had been right! she realized, as Jace once more imprisoned her in his arms. But when his lips crashed down on hers she felt none of the knee-trembling magic. In fact, she couldn’t breathe! She endured his mouth moving back and forth over hers as long as she could, then tore her mouth away, gasping.