The Fur Trader's Daughter: Rendezvous (Destiny's Daughters Book 3)

by Colleen French

  To keep busy she played cards with anyone who would dare, taking the few dollars Jack had given her and turning them into a growing stack she kept safe in the chamber pot in the small cabin she and Alex shared. Their gold had been placed in wooden crates and stored down below, disguised in the rolls of cured hides. So far, they had managed to let no one know they were carrying more than a few slivers of gold dust.

  "Well, I thank you for the evening's pleasant company, Gabrielle, Alex." Joey nodded, getting up from his chair. "But I think I'll retire."

  "Good night." Gabrielle smiled.

  "Good night," Alex followed in suit. He watched the businessman leave the dining room of the steamer through a heavy paneled door. Turning back to Gabrielle, he poured himself another glass of whiskey. "Shame on you taking all of that man's money." His eyes sparkled with pride.

  "Shame on me?" She laughed. "Shame on him for thinking he could beat me!"

  "I didn't know you could play so well."

  She shrugged good-naturedly, retrieving her tattered deck of cards. "Not much to do in mid-January. Papa and I played by the hour."

  Alex moved to the chair beside her. "There's something I don't understand."

  "What's that?" She took a sip from his glass, the fiery liquid burning a path down her throat.

  "If Rouge was as good as you are, why did he have to cheat?"

  "I don't know. I asked him the same question, but he could never tell me straight. I think he liked the excitement of doing something dishonest. He liked worrying that he might get caught." She looked up at him. "Funny, huh?"

  Alex took her hand. "Yea. Funny." He studied her dark eyes. "Listen, Gabrielle, I've been thinking. What do you say we wait and get married in Richmond?"

  "In Richmond?" Her heart gave an involuntary leap. Was he backing out? Had he changed his mind? "I thought you said we were going to be married just as soon as we got to Seattle." Her voice wavered. "I thought you said you couldn't wait to marry me."

  He smiled, hearing the uneasiness in her voice. "I do want you to be my wife. I just thought that instead of making it a hurried affair, we could wait until we got to Virginia, and then we could have a big church wedding. My family could all be there."

  Gabrielle twisted her fingers in his, staring at the worn wooden table bolted to the floor. "Yea, I guess we could wait . . . I mean we've been living in sin all this time haven't we?" Tell him no, an inner voice warned. Tell him you want to make it legal as soon as you reach Seattle or you're not going with him.

  Alex caught her chin with his hand, lifting it to make her look him in the eye. "There can be no sin in loving you the way I do, Gabrielle. It's just that I want to make this special. Most women dream their entire lives of their wedding day."

  "If that's what you want, it's all right." Her lower lip quivered slightly.

  "You certain? We can go ahead and find a priest the minute we get off the steamer if that's what you want."

  "No. No, you're right." She managed a smile. "A big wedding would be nice."

  He brushed her hair off her chek, leaning to kiss her softly. "I just want to make you happy."

  "I know." Pushing back in her chair, she got up. "I think I'll turn in now." She retrieved her cards.

  "Want me to come?"

  "Nah, it's still early. You stay." She nodded in the direction of three crew members and one of the miners playing poker in the corner of the small dining room. "Maybe you can get into the game."

  He nodded his russet head, glancing over in interest. "I'm not really tired."

  "Then stay."

  Later, Gabrielle lay huddled in her single bunk in their cabin, unable to sleep. Was Alex having doubts about their marriage? Now that they were in contact with other people again, did he realize how unconventional she was? She groaned, pulling the wool coverlet over her head. The steamer had hit bad weather, and the vessel was rocking viciously, making her stomach uneasy. Had Alex just changed his mind and couldn't tell her?

  Then her voice of reason took over. Am I being irrational? Maybe I'm the one who's reconsidering, and I can't admit it to myself. She had to admit that the thought of marriage, the institution her father had cursed, did frighten her. Maybe I'm blaming Alex for my own doubts, she thought dejectedly. After all, he said he wanted a church wedding for me. Her mind in turmoil, it was a long time before Gabrielle finally succumbed to uneasy sleep.

  Gabrielle and Alex walked out of the gold-broker's office and onto the street hand in hand. "I can't believe it, Gabrielle! I still can't believe it! We're rich, sweetheart!" He caught her by the waist, swinging her around, ignoring the curious passersby.

  Gabrielle giggled. "Put me down, you fool. We'll be arrested for vagrants disturbing the peace of this fine city."

  He set her on her feet, unable to resist stealing a kiss before he released her. "Yea." He looked down at his worn clothing. "Guess the first thing we need to do is find some decent clothes, a new suit for me, a pretty frilly dress for you."

  She wrinkled her nose. "No, the first thing we need to do is find a hotel. You do the shopping. I'm going to sink myself into a tub of water, and I'm not coming out until I'm as wrinkled as an old piece of moose jerky."

  "You want me to get you a dress?"

  "Sure, why not. Your taste is probably better than mine when it comes to that sort of thing. You know what a lady's supposed to look like. Just no bustle, please."

  He caught her arm, steering her in the door of the first good hotel they came upon on King's Street. "The broker says it will be a few days until he can make the arrangements, find a buyer, but he gave me a nice cash advance." He patted his jacket. "You can have anything you want, Gabrielle. Just name it."

  She stopped on the front step of the hotel. "In here?" A huge sign bearing the hotel's name loomed overhead. The St. Lucy was one of the most expensive hotels in Seattle.

  "You bet." He put his hand on the doorknob, pushing the glass-windowed door open for her.

  Gabrielle stepped in hesitantly, taking in the hand-painted wallpaper and crystal chandeliers in the front entryway.

  A rotund woman with her hair piled high and her face caked with makeup scowled from behind the front desk. "Can I help you?" She eyed Gabrielle and Alex suspiciously.

  "A room please."

  The woman lifted a painted eyebrow. "Sorry, it's cash up front. I'll have to see the color of your money, sugar pie."

  Alex stepped up, pushing a bill of large denomination across the polished wood counter. "That be enough?"

  The woman's face brightened. "I believe so, yes sir!" She took the bill, sliding it beneath the counter. "You folks just come from up north?"

  "Just in on the mail steamer this morning," Gabrielle answered.

  "Must have been a good year for you." She reached for a large leather-bound register book. "Name please . . ."

  "Gabrielle LeB—"

  "Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson Alexander," Alex interrupted, draping an arm around Gabrielle's shoulder. "We'd like a large room, and a bath sent up for Mrs. Alexander immediately."

  Gabrielle dug the heel of her soiled boot into the thick oriental carpet that covered the hard-wood floor. She felt distinctly out of place. She and Rouge had never stayed in a place this fancy; they always took a room down at the docks.

  "Shall we go?" Alex took Gabrielle's arm, the key to their room in his hand. Going up the steps, they took the third door on the left. "Here we are. . ." He inserted the key and pushed open the door.

  Gabrielle gave a gasp of surprise. "I've never seen anything so beautiful!" The sitting room was furnished in red velvet, with wallpaper done in red and ivory. The bedroom was off to the side. "Look at it, Alex!" She ran leaping onto the monstrous bed.

  He chuckled, dropping the key on a marble-topped side table. "A little garish, don't you think?"

  "Garish?" She popped her head up off one of the frilly pillows. "What's garish?"

  He looked at her beaming face. "Nothing, never mind. You stay here and wait fo
r your bath. Don't let anyone else in but the maid while I'm gone. You hear me?"

  She bounced off the bed, running to pull back the heavy crimson drapes that covered the windows. "I hear, I hear. Go on with you. I'll be fine."

  "You sure you don't want to go with me?"

  "Positive. I hate shopping." She looked down to the street below, watching people pass.

  "All right. Back soon." He blew her a kiss. "Behave yourself."

  A few minutes after Alex had gone, a knock came at the door. "Who is it?" Gabrielle called.

  "Maid, ma'am, with your bath," a shrill voice called.

  Gabrielle lifted the latch on the door and turned the knob. "Come in."

  A maid in a flounced black and white dress and apron filed past her, a man following with a huge copper tub in his arms. Three men came in behind them, toting buckets of steamy water. Once the tub was filled, the men made a quick exit.

  "Shall I stay and assist you?" the maid asked, holding herself erect, a pile of fluffy white towels in her arms.

  "Help? Help with what? God's sakes, you don't think I can wash myself?"

  With a snort, the maid dropped the towels on a chair and started out of the bedchamber and through the parlor. "Well, if there's anything else, Mrs. Alexander, you call." She pointed to a thick braid rope that hung from the ceiling in the corner of the room. "Just pull the bell, ma'am."

  "Thank you." Gabrielle let her out and closed the door, locking it behind her.

  An hour later when Alex's key rattled in the door, Gabrielle was still submerged in the glorious bathtub. "Gabrielle? Where are you, love?"

  "Here I am," she called from the bedroom.

  He stuck his head in the door. "How long have you been in there?"

  She laughed. "I told you I needed a bath." She leaned forward to get a better look at him. "Come around here, I can't see you. Have you got yourself some new clothes, Mr. Alexander?" she teased. "And a haircut, too?"

  His cheeks colored as he came through the door. He was dressed much like he'd been the day he'd rescued Gabrielle on the docks nearly a year ago. He wore a dark double-breasted suit and a starched white shirt with a stand collar. In his hand he carried a black bowler hat. "So what do you think?"

  She smiled proudly. "I'd not have recognized you on the street. I'd forgotten what you looked like shaved and with short hair."

  "Just wait until you see what I've brought you." He pointed at her with the hat. "You stay here while I have the shopkeepers bring the boxes into the parlor."

  "Boxes?" She rose halfway out of the tub.

  "Calm down, it's just a few things for you to wear until we get to Richmond."

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes as he went out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. A few minutes later when the sound of men's voices and footsteps died away, he came back into the bedroom carrying a silky azure robe over his arm. "Mademoiselle!" He offered an arm, helping her out of the tub.

  "This for me?"

  "Uh huh, like it?" He helped her slip her arms into the luxurious lounging robe.

  "Well, yea, I guess so. It's just that I never owned such a thing. After my bath, I just put my clothes back on."

  Alex laughed. "Well, now you have a robe to put on. Now come see what else I've bought you," he said, leading her into the parlor.

  Gabrielle gave a gasp. There were paperboard boxes piled everywhere, large and small, wrapped and unwrapped. "You bought all of this? Have you lost your head, Alex?" She lifted a cardboard lid and extracted a pair of women's lacy underdrawers. There were eleven more pairs just like it in the same box.

  "You don't like them?" He fingered the wide lace on the legs of the drawers. "I can take them back and get something different if you like."

  "No. It's all right. Two pairs would have done, that's all." She proceeded to move from one box to the next, overwhelmed by his extravagance. There were day dresses and skirts, shirt waists and bonnets, not to mention the piles of ladies' accessories. "Did you leave anything in the shops?"

  Alex laughed, watching her pull a gown of forest-green serge from a large box. "I know you didn't want anything too fancy. I thought you could wear that to supper this evening."

  "Supper?" She looked up wide-eyed.

  "Sure, I thought I'd take you out your first night in town." He folded a pair of silk hose and returned it to its box. "Don't you want to?"

  She chewed at her lower lip in indecision. "I thought we could just stay here tonight and have something sent up. I don't know that I'm ready for so many people."

  "Nonsense." He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "I just want to take you out and show you off. I promise, we'll make an early night of it."

  Not wanting to disappoint him, Gabrielle nodded her consent. "All right, but just a small place, somewhere not too busy. We don't want to end up running into Taylor."

  "Is that what you're worried about?" He kissed her fragrant lips. "I think we've heard the last of him; besides, the map is gone, and the gold is safe with the broker. Our worries are over. Now go on and get dressed." He fondled her bottom playfully, and she smacked at his hand.

  "Reservations for two for Jefferson Alexander," Alex told the maitre d'hotel of the restaurant in the finest hotel in Seattle.

  The man in the dark suit nodded, checking off the name on a piece of paper with the great flourish of a plume pen. "This way, sir, madam . . ." The man led them to a small table in the corner of the dining room. Men and women at the other scattered tables looked up with interest.

  "Thank you." Alex allowed Gabrielle to take a seat against the wall, and he sat down across from her.

  The maitre d'hotel cleared his throat. "The special for the evening, sir, is baked patridge stuffed with salmon. Will that do?"

  "Yes. That will be fine. And a bottle of wine while we wait." He smiled across the small table at Gabrielle as the man dismissed himself. He reached over the painted china plates to take her hand. "Don't look so frightened."

  "I don't like it here." She batted at the chiffon veil of her hat.

  "What do you mean you don't like it here?"

  "People are staring at me." She withdrew her hand from his and slipped off the green gloves that matched her new dress.

  Alex chuckled. "You're paranoid. No one is looking at you, but if they are, it's only because you're the most beautiful woman in Seattle."

  Gabrielle twisted her hands beneath the linen table cloth. "You don't understand. I don't know how to act in a place like this."

  "Act? There's no acting to it. You just have to sit here and talk with me and eat your supper when someone brings it." He sighed, lowering his voice. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

  "Who says I'm afraid?" She started to say something else but immediately closed her mouth when someone returned with a bottle of wine and two crystal wineglasses.

  Alex poured the wine and passed her a glass. "Drink," he urged. "You're just nervous."

  She sipped the wine, peeking over the rim of the glass at the other customers in the room. The ladies and gentlemen speaking in low voices were all so well dressed; they seemed so refined. Gabrielle's hand trembled. She didn't belong here, but she knew that if she was going to marry Alex, she was going to have to get used to being out in public.

  "Feeling better?" Alex took her hand again. "The hotel is very nice. We could move our things here if you wish. It's just been built."

  She shook her head, rubbing her neck. The veiled hat she was wearing was so heavy that it was making her neck stiff. It was a huge billowing affair with thick ruffles of Spanish lace, and dyed green and black feathers. She thought it hideous when Alex had pulled it out of the hat box, but he was so pleased with his choice that she couldn't bear to tell him. "No. I like our room just fine. And like you said, we're only going to be here a few days."

  He lifted his glass to his lips, sampling the familiar vintage. "We can take a train out of here at the end of the week. The gold broker suggested I hire a guard to ride with
the money until I deposit it in a bank in Richmond." He smiled, watching the way the light from the gas lamp at the table cast golden shadows over her smooth skin. "You're beautiful," he whispered.

  She smiled in return, beginning to feel a little better. The wine had calmed her nerves. She knew she had nothing to fear. "I may be, but the lace on these drawers is driving me mad!" She slipped a hand beneath the table to scratch viciously.

  Alex grinned. "We'll have our meal, and then we'll go back to our room so I can take care of that little itch for you." His voice was husky with insinuation.

  Gabrielle lifted her glass in laughter, then froze, the glass in midair.

  Alex stared at her stricken face. "What's the matter? Are you all right?"

  Her stomach gave a lurch as she managed to set her glass on the edge of the table. Suddenly she couldn't breathe. Her heart beat rapidly beneath her breast as she struggled against the sudden light-headedness she was feeling. She couldn't lift her gaze from the door of the restaurant.

  Seeing that she was staring at something or someone behind him, Alex turned in his chair. He saw nothing but the other seated guests and a well-dressed man and woman just coming in the door. "What is it?" he murmured.

  "Alex," she gasped, wiping her mouth with the linen napkin, "I have to get out of here."

  "What do you mean? What is it? Taylor?" His handsome face was a mask of concern.

  "It's Alice," she said in a weak voice, "my mother."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "Your mother?" Alex turned back around, gazing at the customers that filled the room. He didn't see any whores. "Where, Gabrielle?"

  She took a deep breath, averting her eyes to stare at the china plate in front of her. "There, Alex, don't you see her? At the door . . ." The pain that she'd suppressed so well flooded Gabrielle as she struggled to remain in control of her emotions. That woman, her mother, had abandoned her, had broken her father's heart. Alice LeBeau had never given a damn about anyone but herself.