Agnes continued, “It’s high time that he be properly brought into the family.”
The family that disinherited me for marrying him a decade ago.
Inez wanted to spit.
After offering up the punch to Aunt Agnes, which she accepted, Mark turned to Inez and said, “Why don’t you tell me about these
tableaux
, darlin’?”
Aunt Agnes set down the punch and attached herself to his other arm. “Didn’t your wife tell you? I am the master creator of this event. I can tell you everything you want to know, probably
more
than you want to know.”
“There could never be too much, Mrs. Underwood, should the explanation come from such a charming, well-learned, and intelligent woman as yourself.”
Inez wanted to roll her eyes, but forbore. She knew, from growing up around Aunt Agnes, that her flamboyant, determined aunt harbored the belief that she soared miles above most mere humans in acumen and intelligence. Including above most men. Mark, with his easy, apparently inborn ability to read people, had managed to worm his way into Aunt Agnes’ approval, without hardly lifting a finger.
Inez took as deep a breath as her stays allowed and tried to tamp her rising irritation at Mark’s dead-on flattery. She pasted a smile on her face and held his arm close, in case eyes should swivel their way. And there were plenty of calculating eyes upon the three of them as they made the circuit of the room, with Aunt Agnes talking and gesticulating at every station.
Toward the end of the circuit, Aunt Agnes, with apologies, moved to the center of the room, clapped her hands, and said, “Thank you, all. I believe we should give our actors their due and allow them to stand down and approach the punch bowl, at will.”
Applause rippled around the room as each of the statues relaxed and stepped away from their stations. Inez watched as Calder and Epperley bounded apart as if driven by opposite energies. Calder glared at Epperley with open dislike. Inez gripped Mark’s arm tighter and said under her breath, “The dark fellow over there is Robert Calder, from New York and Scotland. His brother met an unfortunate end here. I’ll explain later. Epperley is the hotel’s manager. A remittance man, you know the sort. He has staked a lot on the success of the hotel.”
“Hmm. Who is the tall fellow who looks like he’d rather be anywhere than here?”
“That’s the hotel’s physician, Dr. Prochazka. He’s the main draw for this resort. People come from all over the world to be treated by him. Dr. Prochazka is widely respected in such circles and trained at the University of Göttingen. He may be brilliant, but he’s not particularly sociable.”
“Immune to your charms?” murmured Mark.
She smiled brilliantly at him. “I haven’t made a serious effort. Ah! Here come my sister and brother-in-law. Be on your best behavior.”
After introductions and small talk, Mark said, “You must pardon me, it’s been a long journey, and I would like to spend time with my wife.” Inez pinched the inside of his arm through his jacket, hard. “I’m most desirous of seeing my son after all this time. Would it be possible?”
“Of course!” Harmony was perfectly kind, sweet, but Inez detected a wary distance. “Inez, do you want me to go with you to William’s room?”
“I know the way,” she assured her sister.
Calder and Susan approached as well, and Susan introduced Calder to Mark, then turned to Inez. “Mr. Calder is going to help load my photographic equipment up in the buggy and take me back to Mrs. Galbreaith’s,” she said. “Mrs. Galbreaith and I are planning to wander around town tomorrow and see what images we might capture close to town. And then…” She looked at Calder.
Calder said, “After an early morning stroll, I shall relocate to one of the other Manitou hotels, perhaps the Beebe or Manitou House. Once I am settled, I will collect Miss Carothers and we shall waltz the night away at the Cliff House tomorrow evening.” He smiled down at Susan. “It will be my reward for all that I must do on the morrow.”
It took some time for the Stannerts to make their way out the room, what with the introductions, nods and bows, and exchanges of pleasantries. Once they reached the reception desk, Mr. Lewis handed Mark a key, saying, “You’ll find the suite on the second floor, all the way down to your right.”
Inez paused at the directions and asked, “Isn’t that Mrs. Pace’s room?”
“It was.”
“Where did she go?”
Lewis looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I believe she found lodging at the Cliff House. She decided she needed a place where she could have a little more quiet and seclusion.”
“That does not sound like Kirsten Pace,” Inez said under her breath as they went up the stairs.
“You know her?”
“She is one of the reasons I called you to come early. I’ll explain in a minute. Ah, here is William’s room. He has a nanny that stays with him.”
She knocked softly on the door and called out, “Lily? It’s me, Mrs. Stannert.”
After a short while, the door opened a slice. “He’s asleep, ma’am,” she looked to be half-asleep herself.
“I’ve brought Mr. Stannert with me. He would like to see William for a moment.”
Lily was suddenly wide awake. She stared at Mark, as if he were a nightmare that had, somehow, crept out of the shadow world of dreams and stood now before her. “You’re Wilkie’s pa?” she asked faintly.
Mark nodded. “That I am.”
“Oh.” Her eyes slid sideways, a tremulous quiver in her chin. “Are you, are you taking him tonight?”
“No, no,” Inez said hastily. “Mr. Stannert just wants to see his son.”
After a pause, Lily slowly opened the door wider and let them into the bedroom.
Inez led him to the bed by the window. The little calico dog of his infancy was crumpled in one fist, the thumb from the other hand secured in the mouth. It was an odd sensation for Inez to stand with Mark, side by side, watching William sleep.
After a moment, Mark pulled off one glove and gently, very gently, laid a hand on top of William’s head, like a benediction. William stirred, but didn’t wake.
“He’s grown so much,” Mark said softly.
Inez crossed her arms.
All this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t left the way you did. Left us alone. We would have seen him grow together.
The hurt of abandonment flooded through her, shaking her with the power of the early days. She bit her tongue against accusations that no longer mattered.
It’s over. I’ve vowed to only go forward and not look back, and that’s what I will do.
Once they entered the suite, Mark lit the gas lamp on the table in the sitting room while Inez did a quick reconnaissance. She was happy to find there were two bedrooms, with doors, separated by a sitting room. The trunks had been shuffled into the larger of the two bedrooms. She opened her trunk and was relieved to find her pocket revolver resting atop her neatly folded stockings.
I should be carrying this, not leaving it packed away. This place has lulled me with its high society and manners.
She turned to Mark, standing in the doorway. “I will take this room, and you can have the other. We will get your trunks moved tomorrow.”
“As you wish,” was his only response. He strolled over to a carpet bag, opened it, and pulled out two goblets from the Silver Queen and a familiar bottle.
“Brandy!” Inez exclaimed.
“I thought, this being a hotel dedicated to the recovery of health and the balancing of the humors, I should bring a little
aqua vitae
. For medicinal purposes, of course.” He held the bottle so she could see it. “Your favorite, I believe?”
“My favorite, as you well know.” She moved past him to the table and chairs in the sitting room, saying, “We must talk. Now.”
Mark poured a measure of brandy into each glass, picked one up, and swirled the liquid around. “Yes, we must. But first,” he handed her the glass and picked up the other, “to a truce.”
She narrowed her eyes. “A truce? What kind of truce?”
He set his glass down. “Now, darlin’. You sent for me, remember, and reading between the lines, I gathered you were in some distress, so dropped everything and came right away. I’m here to help. But in return, I want something from you.” He looked at her, his blue eyes colorless, taking light from the table lamp.
She drew back. “How
dare
you presume!”
“Darlin’, don’t
you
presume.” He sat down at the table, and indicated the chair opposite. “Here’s the deal. You tell me what the trouble is, and what you want me to do. In return, we set our differences aside and act the happy family, and present a solid front. To your family. To William. No washing dirty linen in public. You remain civil to me, and I to you.”
Inez cradled the warming glass, watching him closely. “That’s all?”
“That’s all. I only ask that you hear me out without shooting at me.”
“Ha!” She set the glass down with a
tink
. “I knew it. You want me to halt divorce proceedings. That’s what you’re really after.”
Mark rolled his glass between his hands. “I’d be lying if I said no. I’m hoping once I tell you my side of the story, explain what happened after I left our house that day, that you’ll give it due consideration and eventually take me back.”
“So. You want me to sit here while you spin out your tale.”
“I want you to listen without interrupting. To hear me out to the end.”
Rather than answer right away, Inez brought the glass to her mouth and let the brandy slide in. The spirits-filled heat in her mouth hinted of apples and recalled a hot summer evening, long ago. She and Mark lay on a grassy hill, brandy close at hand, the night heat having sapped all their energy. Her head rested on Mark’s chest, riding the rise and fall of his breath. All her senses had been captive to the act of inhalation and exhalation, and by the panorama of a dark sky invaded by stars.
Inez set the glass and her memories aside. “Very well. Since this involves my sister and her husband, I will listen. And I won’t interrupt.”
She crossed her arms. Mark raised one eyebrow.
Inez shrugged. “The deal didn’t include that I believe you. Only that I listen.”
“Fair enough. I know you can sniff out a lie quicker’n a coon dog can pick up the scent of a ring-tailed bandit. I’d be a fool to lie to you, Inez.”
Mark tipped another inch of brandy into her glass, and an equal measure into his own.
He began. “Last year, May ninth. Our boy just turned five months old. We’d been talking about selling the saloon, moving on for his health. Going to Denver or maybe making our big move to San Francisco.”
Inez kept her arms crossed, her back rigid.
Would he really think I need reminding? The day is branded on my mind and heart forever.
She said, “You said you were going to talk to some possible buyers for the saloon. You thought you could play one off another, see who would offer the most.”
He held up a finger, like a teacher gently remonstrating a truculent student. “My time to talk, Inez. That’s our deal.” He continued, “I made all the arrangements, signed the papers. Had money in my pocket from a handshake deal backed by cash.”
He stopped, took a deep breath, and said, “I was on my way to the Silver Queen, bringing the papers for you and Abe to sign and put the cash in the safe, when I did something stupid.” He swirled the brandy in his glass, took another taste, set it down and said, “I stopped for a drink at the Comique. Just a quick one, you understand. I was trying to settle my mind on our next steps, thinking about how long it’d take to complete the transactions and when we might be able to leave Leadville.”
He had been leaning forward, over the table. He now settled back and looked directly at Inez. “I said I wouldn’t lie and I won’t. I was talking to one of the actresses who had finished up a two-night show. She was saying good-bye to the folks she knew, and I offered to buy her a drink. We talked.”
Inez squinched her eyes shut, as if that would make his words disappear.
Actresses. Always, it was actresses.
“Darlin’, I swear. We only talked.”
“Go on,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Anyhow, I suppose I must’ve been a little careless and someone got a look at the roll I was carryin’. Because when I went out back to Stillborn Alley to relieve myself, he must’ve followed me.” He stopped and passed a hand over his eyes. “Going through the door to the alley is the last thing I remember.”
The Comique. He was just halfway down the block, other side of the street from the Silver Queen.
Inez picked up her brandy with shaking hands and took a larger mouthful than was prudent, ignoring the burn as it raced down her throat.
“As to what happened then,” Mark said, “I only know what I was told. When I didn’t come back after a while, the actress sent some Johnny-boy out to look for me. He found me bleeding in the mud, head stove in, stripped of near everything except what God gave me at birth, and damn near dead. The actress, Josephine’s her name, had me bundled in a blanket, carried to her wagon, and she took me with her out of town.”