The Lightkeeper's Daughter (25 page)

A middle-aged woman approached John. Her skirts rustled, and the harsh black dress she wore did nothing for her pale skin. Her yellowish-white hair had been arranged in a thin pompadour that exposed her scalp in places.

“Lieutenant North, I assume you’re here to pick up Mrs. Eaton’s order?” she asked in a gravelly voice.

“I am,” he said. He nodded toward Addie. “This is Miss Julia Eaton. Miss Eaton, this is Mrs. Silvers.”

“Oh my,” the woman said, her eyes widening. “Mr. Eaton’s longlost daughter! The news of your return has spread through town. What a wonderful surprise for your father.”

Addie smiled. “A wonderful surprise for me as well, Mrs. Silvers. I’ve longed for an extended family all my life.”

“And Mrs. Eaton raved about your dressmaking ability before your identity was known,” Mrs. Silvers said, taking Addie’s hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Addie extricated her palm from the woman’s overenthusiastic pumping. “I’m sure whatever she said was an exaggeration of my poor skills.”

Mrs. Silvers’s gaze roamed Addie’s gown and hat. “If you created what you’re wearing, I must say Mrs. Eaton didn’t praise you enough.”

Was this how everyone would react to her now that she was known to be an Eaton? “Thank you, Mrs. Silvers.”

The older woman turned. “I expect you want to see the items. Come this way.”

She led them from the dry-goods department past rows of jams and jellies until she reached the wooden counter. “Here we go.” She lifted a box from the back counter and placed it by the ornate cash register.

Addie peeked inside and nearly gasped. “Are those egret feathers?” She saw a flash of red. “And is that a cardinal?”

Mrs. Silvers beamed. “Yes indeed. Aren’t they lovely?”

Addie put her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, but I don’t use bird feathers on my hats. Especially not egrets and certainly not stuffed cardinals.”

She couldn’t look away from the poor dead cardinal until John took her shoulders and pulled her away from the counter. Her eyes burned, and she gulped. “I’m so sorry for your trouble, Mrs. Silvers, but I could not bear to touch them.”

Mrs. Silvers drew herself upright. Her lips were pressed in a tight line. She lifted the box and put it on the back counter. “I went to great trouble to meet Mrs. Eaton’s specifications.”

“I’m sorry,” Addie said again. “I’ll be sure to tell Mrs. Eaton the reason we return empty-handed.”

She wanted to rush from the store so she didn’t have to look at the box, but if this was what Mrs. Eaton had referred to when she said she’d ordered the final trim, an alternative must be found. Addie searched the shop, sighing in relief when she spied a fitting substitute. “The velvet rosettes are beautiful. I’ll take three of them. And some of that tulle.”

Neither would come close to what the woman had spent for the bird and feathers. John stood with his hands behind his back, obviously clueless to what had just happened.

“No matter. I shall be able to sell the feathers to other, less sensitive, women,” Mrs. Silvers managed an ingratiating smile. “Is there anything else?”

Addie shook her head, miserably aware her aunt would be unhappy. John took the bag, and she followed him outside. With the purchases stowed in the back, he helped her board the buggy.

“What was the problem?” he asked as the horse pulled them onto the street.

Addie shuddered. “I never use birds on my hats. Have you read about the bird hunts? They trap the birds, kill them, then pluck out the feathers and discard the carcass. They’re slaughtered merely to adorn a vain woman’s hat.”

“Some women often don’t care who is hurt as long as they have what they want,” he said, a slight smile lifting his lips. “I fear Mrs. Silvers will never get over the affront.”

Heat swept up her chest to her neck. “I’m sure it’s my fault. I’ve grown up among seagulls and fish. They’d done little to teach me proper manners.”

He laughed, a short bark full of genuine delight. “I like never knowing what you’re going to say next.” He slapped the reins on the horse’s rump. “You realize you won’t be allowed to teach Edward when Henry has a chance to think about it. I’ll have to find another tutor to go with me to San Francisco.”

She smoothed the glove on her hand. “I’d wondered about that. I could ask to continue, but he might say no.”

“He’ll certainly say no to allowing you to accompany me to the city.”

“I want to get to know my family better,” she admitted. “But I find I want to know you better even more than that.”

The buggy exited town and entered the shadow of the redwoods. “We must see what we can do about that,” he said.

The painted columns of the manor glistened in the sunshine, but the view of the massive structure made Addie shudder. She had to go in and tell Mrs. Eaton she had refused the bird and feathers the woman wanted on her hat and gown.

“Are you cold?” John asked, stopping the carriage. He stepped down and held up his hand to help her.

“Not at all.” She accepted his assistance. “I’m dreading telling Mrs. Eaton about the feathers.”

He set her on the ground, but his hands stayed on her waist. “I assumed you’d already prayed about it.”

“I did. She might not be paying attention to God.” She smiled to show him she was joking. “I enjoyed the jaunt very much.”

He glanced at the house, then stepped back with obvious reluctance. “Not half as much as I did.” He handed her the purchases. “We could search the attic later. Or the labyrinth.”

More hours spent in his company. “It’s won’t be dark for several hours yet. Let’s examine the labyrinth.”

“I think we’d better face Clara first.”

She walked toward the towering porch columns, whispering another prayer that Clara would accept her decision. She sensed John staring at her. Taking courage from his concern, she carried her box of tulle and flowers inside.

The grandfather clock in the grand hall struck six. At this time of day, Clara would likely be in her study poring over menus for tomorrow. Addie navigated the labyrinth of halls to the room. The door to the study was shut. She took a deep breath and rapped on it.

“Come in,” Clara called.

Addie twisted the brass knob and pushed open the door. Clara looked up from where she sat at her rosewood desk. She wore a white serge dress with blue silk piping. “Ah, Julia, you have the things I ordered? Let me see!”

Addie stepped nearer. Her tongue refused to form the words she needed, so she let Clara take the box and withdraw the items from inside.

Clara frowned and looked up at Addie. “Where are the feathers? And the bird? I ordered a cardinal. The bright splash of color will be most becoming with my skin tone.”

Addie wet her lips. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Eaton. I should have mentioned it sooner. I know bird feathers and stuffed birds are quite the fashion, but I can’t in good conscience use them on my creations.”

Clara’s delicate brows rose. “What nonsense is this? Those egret feathers cost the earth! And I ordered the size of the bird most specifically.”

“The mercantile had them in, and I saw them,” Addie said. “But the willful destruction of birds for vanity’s sake is something I can’t endure. I bought these other things instead.”

Clara stamped her foot. “I don’t want other things!” She tossed the tulle and ribbon flowers back into the box. “I’ll be a laughingstock to go out in plain tulle.”

“I keep up on all the styles. The simpler things are all the rage in Paris. If you allow me to follow my vision, you’ll be on the cutting edge of fashion.”

The red in Clara’s face began to soften to pink. “Simpler things? What do you have in mind?”

“Fashionable women in Paris are beginning to wear turbans for night. I mentioned that to you earlier. And the day hats are larger, to frame the face. I have so many ideas.” She prayed silently for Clara to listen.

“Turbans? Truly?” Clara appraised the purchased items again. “Out of tulle?”

“No, no, the tulle is for the day hat I have in mind for you. The turban will be in velvet. It’s quite unusual. No one else in California will have one like it.”

Clara’s blue eyes widened, and a glimmer of avarice shimmered in her eyes. “I am most intrigued, Julia. Do you have a sketch?”

Addie’s sigh eased from her lips. God had answered her prayer. “I’d like you to trust me and let me make it for you. It looks so much lovelier on than in a sketch. The color will be most attractive with your eyes and fair skin.”

“Will it be done in time for the ball?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nearly done already. I just need to add final touches.”

Clara drew on her gloves. “Very well. Carry on with your vision, Julia.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Eaton. I won’t let you down.”

“I trust that is the truth, my dear. I hope you realize how important this ball is to me. And to Henry. His associates from San Francisco will be here and even one of his clients from New York. I’m counting on you to make sure that if anyone’s toilette is discussed with awe, it is mine.” She touched her closed fan to Addie’s cheek. “And perhaps you should begin to call me Mother and Henry Father. Our friends will expect it.”

“Yes, Mother,” Addie said, the word rolling awkwardly off her tongue.

Clara started for the door, then turned. “Oh, and Julia, one more thing. Have you anything suitable to wear yourself?”

Addie had been expecting this. Her father would want her to meet the people of his social circle. “I’m afraid not, Mother. And I have no time to make a ball gown.”

“I have too many to count. We’re close to the same size. Have Molly show you my closet.”

“This is a masked ball, isn’t it? May I purchase a mask in town?”

“I have at least ten. You may take your pick.” Mrs. Eaton swept out of the room.

Shaking, Addie sank onto the settee. While the thought of attending a ball was intoxicating, she dreaded fending off Carrington. John’s chocolate eyes came to mind. Dancing in his arms would be worth dealing with Carrington.

T
WENTY-SIX

H
ENRY STOPPED
A
DDIE
as she headed toward the labyrinth in the garden just before dusk. “Your mother informed me that you needed a dress. There is no need to wear one of her cast-offs. I want you to be the talk of the state after the ball. Buy whatever you like, my dear.”

“Thank you, Father.” She managed the proper address, though it was still difficult to think of him as her real father. “I don’t think there is much time to find one.”

“If you’d like to go to the city, I’ll be happy to take you.” He wagged a finger at her. “Remember, there will be royalty at the ball. Men who might be interested in an alliance with the Eaton name.”

“When I marry, I wish the man to love me for myself, not for your money.”

He snorted. “Such romanticism, my dear. Infatuation never lasts. Only a solid alliance. Don’t you worry your pretty head about it. I’ll ensure you make a strategic match.”

That’s what she feared the most. She managed a smile, then escaped through the kitchen to the garden. Birds chattered from the manicured trees surrounding the garden. The wind tugged strands of Addie’s hair loose from the ribbon that caught it at the back of her neck. The heavy scent of roses wafted on the wind, and she inhaled it with appreciation. She missed her dog, who now spent more and more time at Edward’s side. It hurt her every time she had to order him not to accompany her, but the boy needed Gideon’s help.

A twig snapped, and she turned to see John approaching. He’d removed his jacket and tie and rolled up the sleeves on his white shirt. His head was bare, and he wore an eager smile. Her mind flashed to his promise to steal a kiss. “Have you been through the labyrinth many times?” she asked

He offered his arm. “Only once or twice.”

“Have you any idea where to search?”

“A few thoughts.” They stepped through the opening of the sixfoot clipped shrubs. Flagstones paved the wide path, which meandered past banks of flowers and rock gardens.

“I love this,” Addie said. “I could stay here forever.” She paused at a statue of a horse. “Should we examine everything that might hold a hidden compartment?”

“That particular statue was installed only three years ago, so I believe we can forgo a study of it.”

With her hand on his arm, they strolled deeper into the labyrinth. “I hope you know how to get out,” she said.

“I have a good sense of direction, but I wouldn’t mind being stuck in here with you for a few days.”

She lifted a brow. “You might change your mind when I grow grouchy from hunger.”

“Oh you’re that kind of lady, eh? One who demands food?”

“Especially sweets.”

“I admit I noticed how you prefer the trifles.”

“Don’t talk about it or I might have to go back for food.”

He led her into a circular area twelve feet across. Benches and iron chairs rimmed the grass. In the center stood a fountain with a stone hummingbird rising ten feet in the air. Water gurgled from the bowl to spill over colorful rocks in a lovely pool. Speechless, she stood and drank in the scene.

“I know what you’re thinking,” John said. “You’re wishing you didn’t have your shoes on. I don’t mind if you want to go wading.”