Love and Fury: The Coltrane Saga, Book 4 (20 page)

This knowledge, combined with Gavin’s everlasting abuse, infuriated her and kept her constantly in a nerve-wracking defensive state.

It was all such a mess. Carleton Bowden, according to what little Gavin would tell her, was being as cooperative as he could be, due entirely to his hatred of Colt. Once Briana had signed the legal documents, as Daniella Coltrane, giving Gavin full control of Dani’s share of the family holdings, Mr. Bowden had given Gavin free rein. He could withdraw money as he liked, and he spared no expense in preparing the Coltrane mansion for the gala. He wanted to impress everyone.

Briana wandered through the downstairs rooms before the guests began to arrive. Even after all of Gavin’s bragging, she was astonished. The party was going to be beautiful.

Roses had been brought in from California by the wagonload, and the air was permeated with the sweetness of the red, white, peach, and yellow blossoms. Satin bunting in pastel shades of green and yellow draped the stair railing, all the sparkling crystal chandeliers, and the gleaming mahogany mantels in each room.

Gavin had procured the services of a French chef, who had come from San Francisco to prepare an array of culinary delights. Tables covered, by Swedish lace were laden with duck braised with oranges and orange liqueur, chicken stewed in red wine, and mounds of sauerkraut served with sausages and pork. There were seafood dishes as well, including scallops served in a creamy sauce, and Chef Bénard’s specialty, a dish of sautéed, diced lobster, flamed in cognac and then simmered in wine, vegetables, and herbs.

For those not inclined toward French cuisine, there were smoked oysters, chicken fried in honey, shrimp marinated in wine, strips of steak barbecued to perfection, delicate crab claws, and steamed clams in a tantalizing sauce of lemon, butter, and cream.

Briana passed through the dining room as one of the kitchen assistants was setting up the cheese table, and he pointed out the different varieties available, insisting that she sample a few. When coaxed to try the delicate little cheese tarts, she whispered, “Dangerously delicious!”

When she approached the dessert selections, she made a gesture of refusal, smiling her apology. But she paused to marvel at the chocolate mousse and all the pies, tarts, and cakes, some with six layers. Everything was exquisitely decorated.

The house was brimming with the additional servants Gavin had engaged. The women bustling around were dressed identically in stiffly starched white cotton dresses with high collars and long sleeves. Their hair was pulled back in tight, severe buns. Long pink aprons added a gay note to the otherwise severe costume. The men wore white coats and black trousers. Briana thought the pink rosebuds in their lapels looked vulgar, but knew better than to say anything.

As she turned to go upstairs, the violin ensemble arrived, and soon the house was filled with music.

As she dressed in the gown Gavin had chosen for her, Briana was forced to admit that it suited her well, besides being beautiful. Fashioned of white lace, the skirt billowed with rows and rows of cascading ruffles. A wide lavender satin cummerbund encircled her waist, wrapping into a large bow at the back. The sash from the bow fell all the way to her hemline.

She studied the bodice critically, the bustline being the only area of Dani’s gowns that gave her trouble. Briana was graciously endowed while Dani was not. Hundreds and hundreds of tiny seed pearls had been sewn on the bodice, so there was no way to enlarge it. The generous swell of her breasts was emphasized by provocatively deep cleavage. If not for the top row of pearls, her nipples would have been visible. She dared not take a deep breath, for if she did, there would be nothing hidden.

There were no sleeves to the dress, for it was of the recent French design—strapless. She was sure Dani would have worn a shawl, keeping her shoulders covered. Briana made a face as she acknowledged that Gavin wouldn’t allow her to do that. He wanted her on display.

One of the servants hired for the evening had a talent for styling hair and had offered to help Dani, which Briana gratefully accepted. The only battle with Gavin that Briana had managed to win was over the matter of her hair. It was long and thick and had some wave, but it was not in style. Frizzed hair was the fashion, and every chic woman had a curling iron heating in the stove or fireplace before she dressed to go out. Briana refused to frizz her hair, and Gavin, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth doing battle over, shrugged his elegant shoulders and told her to at least manage to stay clothed like a woman, for heaven’s sake. He had seen her in Branch’s clothing one morning and been fit to be tied.

Mrs. Morgan and Briana spent a tedious hour curling her cinnamon tresses on a long, slender rod heated in the fire. Then Mrs. Morgan entwined thin lavender velvet ribbons around each curl before sweeping the entire creation up to give the impression of a glorious crown. Mrs. Morgan threaded pearls on a string, then, using a needle, wove the pearls in and out of Briana’s hair. The coiffure was a stunning design of shining curls, alluring ribbons, and dazzling pearls.

Briana was just stepping into the new white satin shoes Gavin had brought her from Silver Butte, when he walked into the room—without knocking, as he always did.

He stood before her, eyes coolly appraising, then circled her several times. Briana was annoyed. Was she a horse for sale?

At last he clapped his hands together, delighted. “Absolutely ravishing. The men will drool over you and the women will hate you. But remember”—his tone suddenly became sharp—“concentrate on the women,
not
the men. Do not be flirtatious. It is imperative that the women like you. They must want to cultivate your friendship. With Mrs. Bowden’s assistance, I have invited some of the most influential families in the area, and many have accepted out of plain curiosity. They must find you lovely, unblemished, altogether suitable for their social circles. Understand?”

Briana sighed, nodded, and refrained from asking him why it mattered. If they left soon, what difference would it make whether or not people approved of her? But she knew this was not the time to bring up the subject of their departure. As though he’d guessed her thoughts, Gavin said, “One day you will understand the reason behind everything I’m doing, and you will marvel at my cleverness.”

He twirled once before her. “How do I look?” he asked eagerly.

He was dressed nearly all in white: white coat and trousers, white shoes, white shirt. His pink string tie and red vest were the only colors. She thought he looked strange, like a dancing fairy, but she kept her expression bland and said, “You look quite distinguished, Gavin. But then, you’ve always been a very…fashionable dresser.”

He gave her a smug look. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.” He turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, “Remember everything I’ve taught you, Dani. Be gracious, charming, polite. Every move you make will be appraised and gossiped about later. The guests have started arriving, so I want you to wait thirty minutes, then make your entrance. Understand?”

Half an hour later, Briana made her way to the top of the stairs. Gavin was waiting for her at the bottom and, on signal, the musicians stopped playing. Gavin turned to face the crowd and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present to you my beloved stepsister, Miss Daniella Coltrane.”

There was applause. Smiling, Briana made her way down the steps, nervously feeling the stares of the crowd. The musicians began playing again, and when she reached the last step, Gavin stepped forward, bowed slightly, and pressed her fingertips to his lips. Then he took her arm and led her into the crowd, introducing her to everyone nearby.

The names and faces became a blur. Everyone seemed friendly, but she hated those curious, probing stares.

A woman drew her aside and began talking animatedly. Mrs. Annabelle Rhodes proudly confided that her husband was
the
Dudley Rhodes, owner of profitable lumber mills not only in Nevada, but in California as well. “I have a nephew I’m dying for you to meet, darling,” she gushed. “You’ll love Nathaniel. He’s as ambitious as his uncle, and one of the most sought-after bachelors in San Francisco. But he’s so picky. He comes from a good family, of course—” She paused to breathe, then went right on. The two of them simply had to get together. When could Dani make the trip to San Francisco? The weather was so lovely there this time of year. The two women could make a shopping jaunt of it.

Briana smiled, was gracious, then murmured that there were so many people she had to meet, would Mrs. Rhodes please excuse her? She made her way through the crowd, toward the table where wine was being served.

Too late, she realized Gavin was presiding over the wine, enjoying the attention he was receiving as he explained all about the different wines he’d imported. Those gathered around seemed suitably impressed.

“And here we have a light, dry white wine, Alsatian,” he was saying.

A plump woman wearing a gaudy but expensive gown of sequins and feathers interrupted. “Oh, Mr. Mason, it must be wonderful to know so much about wines.” She grinned at Briana. “Dear girl, how fortunate you are to have someone so suave, so worldly,
for
a stepbrother.”

Briana continued smiling and looking pleasant, aching to tell them that Gavin’s knowledge of wine resulted from the fact that he consumed so much of it.

Gavin held up another bottle, glorying in having a rapt audience. “This is a full-bodied dry white wine, Côtes du Rhone. It goes so well with fish or fowl. Of course,” he said airily, “we always drink champagne for festive occasions, and I’ll come to that in a moment, but I want to tell you about our reds.”

Disgusted with his foppish display of self-adoration, Briana turned away. Immediately she was asked to dance by a pleasant-looking man, but declined when she saw a woman watching with obvious disapproval. His wife, no doubt.

Suddenly she needed to escape the overpowering smell of hundreds of roses, the crush of so many people, the food aromas. Smiling, nodding, exchanging pleasantries, she made her way through the crowd toward the French doors that led to the terrace at the side of the house. There was a row of potted plants just in front of the doors, which Gavin had ordered placed there to discourage guests from mingling outside. He wanted everyone inside, where they could be impressed by the opulence, the grandeur, and Dani.

She stepped around the foliage after making sure that no one was observing her, then quickly opened the doors and moved outside into the quiet night, closing the doors behind her with a great sense of relief.

She walked to the edge of the terrace and took a deep breath. Oh, it was such a lovely night, the creamy-white full moon turning the night sky a soft midnight purple. Thousands of stars glittered like bits of shimmering crystal. The air was warm and sweet, and she wasn’t the least chilled.

She stood there for only a few moments before she was startled to hear a man’s voice call to her from the yard.

“Don’t be afraid, Miss Dani. It’s only me.”

Apprehension disappeared at the sight of Branch Pope stepping onto the terrace. She was glad to see him. “Why are you sneaking around out here in the dark? Why aren’t you inside with the others?”

“I wasn’t invited,” he said plainly, looking at her quizzically. “I probably wouldn’t have gone if I had been,” he added dryly.

“But,” she protested, “you’re the foreman. Why was Dirk Hollister invited? He’s only a hired hand.”

Branch’s face tightened. “I might ask you the same question, Miss Dani.”

She cried, “I hope you don’t think
I
invited him. I detest that—” She commanded herself to be silent. Gavin had warned her about saying anything against Dirk. “I suppose Gavin invited him,” she said. “
I
certainly didn’t.”

Branch’s eyes bored into hers. “Seems to me there’s lots of things goin’ on around here that I don’t understand. I’m startin’ to get the feelin’ that Hollister is bein’ pushed in and I’m bein’ pushed out. Your stepbrother gives him more and more authority all the time. I can’t figure out how Mason got so much say-so, anyhow. You’re the Coltrane, and he ain’t even your blood kin.”

Briana shook her head in dismay. What could she say that wouldn’t give her and Gavin away? “Mr. Pope, I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about running a ranch, you see.”

“Neither does that stepbrother of yours,” he lashed out, “and neither does Hollister. It’s a bad situation, Miss Dani. I didn’t intend for us to get into a discussion about it, but I guess I’d been holdin’ so much inside that, when I saw you out here, it all burst out.”

He paused to catch his breath, then went on. “When your brother comes home, believe me, things are gonna be different. He’s gonna be madder’n hell when he finds out what’s been goin’ on around here. He’s not gonna like the way Mason has taken over what ain’t his. And he sure ain’t gonna like it if I get fired.” He fell silent, letting her absorb his warning.

Briana felt terrible. This man had been so kind to her when the other men thought she was just a spoiled rich girl. Helpless, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I wish there were something I could do, but there isn’t. Maybe John Travis will be home soon. I certainly hope so.” Oh, what else could she say?

Branch was telling himself to shut up, but it had been building for so long, and, this might be his last chance to talk with her.

“Anyway,” he went on, sighing, “I sure don’t like the way Mason has gotten his nose in things, and Colt won’t like it, either. Nothin’ that goes on around here is any of Mason’s business.”