His Californian Countess (11 page)

Amber rolled over, shoved her hair back and flopped down on the pillow. Smiling that bright, happy smile of hers, she said, “I’m sure I won’t think of thunder and lightning in the same way, either.” She looked well-rested and well-loved. The combination made her look even more beautiful and he felt even better knowing he was the reason for it.

He couldn’t look away. Amber was as loving, giving and courageous in bed as she had been while saving his life. When trying to overcome Jamie’s objection to Iris and the way she’d acted in the garden, his uncle had said the perfect wife was a lady in public and a wanton behind the bedchamber door. His uncle had been right, but he’d left off one important trait. Amber was honorable. And integrity could not be overrated.

This time Jamie had found the perfect wife.

And he planned to take advantage of that happy fact for the rest of the voyage. And the rest of his life. Everything would be fine now. Nothing could go wrong.

J
amie stood behind Amber as the ship moved through the Golden Gate into San Francisco Bay. It was day one hundred and twenty-five of the most anxious, rewarding and purely splendid days he’d ever spent. On the voyage they had lived a year’s worth of seasons in four months. There was a damp chill in the air as was common in this city.

The closer to the end of the voyage they got, the more subdued Amber had become. She’d also become a bit fretful about her role as his hostess and mother to Meara. She even worried that Mimm wouldn’t approve of her.

He couldn’t wait to get Amber to his San Francisco home where he was sure all her worries would melt away. Just before Meara took sick he’d had a letter from Fernando Nelson, his builder, reporting that the house was nearly finished. Before he took Amber there, though, he had to secure a full staff and check the house to make sure all was ready. Until then he and Amber would have to stay at a hotel.

He’d heard the Palace Hotel was now up and running. He’d take her there first. It was reputed to be elegant, with every amenity. There she’d get the rest she seemed to need. Why a delicate young woman would have undertaken such a difficult voyage to help a near stranger he would never understand. Curiosity about her home state didn’t seem to be incentive enough for such an undertaking. He was selfishly glad she had, however.

“Tell me what I’m seeing,” Amber begged.

Jamie squeezed her shoulders, then pointed to the right as they sailed through the Golden Gate. “That over there on the headland is Fort Point.”

“That would explain the cannons,” she said in an ironic tone.

He laughed at her quick wit. “Off to the left is Alameda,” he went on. “It only has three small towns. It has a lot of grazing land for cattle. Still it’s where they decided to move the Transcontinental Railroad terminus. When Mimm and Meara come west in my train car, that’s where they’ll arrive.”

“I still cannot believe you have your very own train car.”

“It really isn’t all that costly for me because I have interests in the New York Central and Central Pacific Railroads. It certainly isn’t as extravagant as it sounds when weighed against the discomfort Meara and Mimm would feel in a regular car for weeks at a time.”

She pressed her hand to his where it still rested on her shoulder. He didn’t seem to be able to be near her and not touch her.

Amber turned her head toward the bay again. “Oh, what is that?” she asked, pointing up ahead and off to the right a while later.

“That?” He took her shoulders in his hands and turned her slightly toward the island. “That’s Alcatraz Island. Military Point and the Citadel are there.”

“And more cannons. It doesn’t give a welcome feel to visitors. What goes on there?”

“It’s actually a military prison now. The tall thin building is the lookout tower. I’m told the lighthouse off to its right is the same type they have New England.”

She nodded. “I’ve seen a painting of the one at Cape Cod. It’s much the same.”

“There are also extensive docks at the other side of the island.”

“Alcatraz is from a Spanish root, right? What does it mean? Do you know?”

She had to be the brightest woman he’d ever spoken to. And she was all his. “I understand
La Isla de los Alcatraces
means Isle of the Pelican.”

“Are there pelicans here? I saw a rendering of a pelican in a book on ornithology once. A very strange-looking bird. Do you think we’ll get to see one?”

“I’ll make sure of it. There are other rather exotic kinds of wildlife here, too.” On the starboard side where they stood, he saw several streaks of gray break the surface. Their dorsal fins arched high before disappearing beneath the surface. “In fact, look.” He pointed downward. “There in the water.”

She sucked in an excited breath and gripped the gunwale, standing on her toes for a better view of the cavorting sea mammals. “Finally, porpoises.”

“See the calves among the pod,” Jamie said and pointed. “There are also sea lions in the bay. They sun themselves on the rocks.”

She turned in his arms, her eyes lit from within. With
her excitement all the shadows of the last days of the voyage seem to have fled. She wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him. “I’m so glad I became an adventurer!”

“Not half as glad as I am,” he told her, wrapping her in his arms, too, and just holding his precious wife next to his heart. He was relieved to see her so animated.

As they sailed past Alcatraz Island she asked the question he imagined everyone arriving either by ship, rail or Conestoga wagon asked sooner or later. “Why is it so misty?”

“I’ve seen it pour in through the Golden Gate. I was told it has something to do with the difference between the temperature of the ocean and the bay.”

“Whatever the reason, and cannons notwithstanding, it looks like a fairyland,” she said. “I hadn’t expected a terrain like this at the shore. It’s as if we are in the foothills of a mountain range. It’s not like what I saw in Atlantic City, New Jersey or New York City.”

“It’s actually a lot like Maine. And the water is every bit as cold as it is there.”

She yawned and seemed to wilt in a moment. “Jamie, would you mind very much if I rested up until it is time to disembark?” she asked suddenly.

“Of course not, Pixie. Go rest. You probably have nearly an hour,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. What had gone wrong? He watched her move toward the door to the saloon and as the door shut behind her a little of the sunshine went out of the day.

“The Palace Hotel, please,” Jamie told the driver as he climbed into the carriage he’d hired there at the docks.

“Are we not going to your home?” Amber asked.

“I thought we’d stay at the Palace until I can hire staff and make sure the house is ready.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed.

“The Palace will be a wonderful experience, I can promise you. William Ralston, the man who had the hotel built, was an acquaintance. He had a vision for San Francisco and he hoped having a hotel of its quality would steer the city in that direction. He ran the Bank of California until his death last year. It was only two months before the hotel opened.

“Sadly the bank failed. He’d overextended and Ralston’s business partner, Senator Sharon, put the final stress on it with a financial maneuver and William lost it all. Sharon got the bank, the hotel and even Ralston’s home. He’s a U.S. senator. Too bad they couldn’t pin William’s death on the good senator,” Jamie said pointedly.

She gave him one of her beatific smiles. “I’m glad having a great amount of money hasn’t corrupted you.”

He was pleased she thought so highly of him, but then her smile faded and she sighed. Jamie took her hand in his. “What is it, Pixie?”

“It’s just that you’ve met such fascinating people.”

There it was—that fretful tone in her voice again. “You mustn’t worry about anyone outside our little family and getting to know Meara when she arrives.”

“Do you think she and Mimm will get here soon?”

He put his arm around her and pulled her close, keeping hold of her hand. “Please don’t think Mimm will not love you at first sight. You are everything she could want for me.”

She nodded, but seemed to have wilted again after
her rest. Dropping her head to his shoulder, Amber fell asleep in moments. It was as if just disembarking at the docks and getting to the carriage had been too much for her. He was going to contact his old friend Malcolm. Malcolm was as fine a doctor as he’d ever seen. They’d met at Edinburgh, but Malcolm had moved to San Francisco almost immediately.

When they arrived, the motion of the halting carriage roused her. Her face lit up as she beheld the hotel’s circular courtyard. He looked up and drew her attention to the seven stories of columned balconies overlooking it. The gleaming white of the marble columns stretched upward to a full skylight, turning the large courtyard into an elegant conservatory.

He jumped to the ground and lifted Amber down. “So, what do you think?”

She put a hand at the back of her head to hold her bonnet in place and looked up at the majestic glass skylight high above. “This is incredible. I’d say your banker friend outdid himself.”

Jamie smiled and took her arm, leading her into the magnificent lobby. It consisted of another series of marble arches and ornate coffered ceilings and had elaborate thronelike seating and plush carpets throughout.

This time her reaction was a delighted gasp. Then she blushed. “I sound like a country bumpkin, don’t I?”

“I’m no less in awe, Pixie. This is on a level with Windsor Palace. Let’s get you settled in a comfy chair while I check us in.” He walked her to one of the ornately carved chairs and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

Through a sheen of tears, Amber watched Jamie walk to the marble registration desk just left of the fancy iron-and-glass-arched doorway they’d entered through. Why did he have to be so sweet? He made her love him more and more each day—and he still loved Helena.

Blinking the telltale moisture from her eyes, she let her gaze drift to the elaborate carpet with a pattern of golden-feathered wreaths woven against a jewel-toned background. He’d brought her to this fine place—a palace—and all she wanted to do was sleep or cry.
What is wrong with me?

Amber knew she had to get a hold of herself and try harder to pull out of this melancholy she’d fallen into. Now she had Jamie thinking she was afraid to meet Mimm when she was actually keen to meet the woman. She desperately hoped to be able to talk to Mimm. She’d lost her aunt when she was sixteen and other than Joseph’s mother, she hadn’t had an older woman in her life since.

She supposed she could have talked to one of the passengers about her worries, but Amber hadn’t been comfortable asking near strangers intimate female questions. There had been Dr. Bennet, of course, but there’d been no way she’d have asked questions about her very personal matters. The man gave both her and Jamie the creeps.

If Mimm was everything Jamie said, Amber was confident she’d feel comfortable discussing her very worrisome problem with her. Last month her courses had come, though late and not as heavily as usual, so she knew she wasn’t expecting. Now she was tired, terribly tired, and felt the urge to cry all the time. She hadn’t the slightest idea what ailed her, but she was sure
Mimm must have more experience in life than she herself did.

Her relationship with Jamie had begun to torture her heart. He’d never said he loved her, just that he cared for her. That she and their marriage was important to him. He desired her, but he was a man and men were able to bed women they desired, but didn’t love. Amber very much feared she was still only the woman he’d gotten stuck with because fear for his daughter had surfaced while he’d been ill.

She should have refused when he’d begged her to marry him. She knew she should have. She’d known it then, but she didn’t think she’d do anything different if she had it to do all over again. He’d been so filled with fear for his child, how could anyone have refused? Even knowing where it would lead, she’d do it again. She loved him that much.

A pair of polished boots stepped into her view. She looked up into Jamie’s troubled gaze and tried to brighten her tone when she said, “Oh, you’re back.”

Jamie smiled uncertainly. “You look a bit wilted again. Come. We’ll get you settled. I’ve taken a suite. That way you can rest in your own room and not be bothered by my comings and goings.”

She hadn’t slept alone since the stormy night they’d made love for the second time. Was he being considerate or had he tired of her already?

She stood and a wave of dizziness assailed her. “Goodness,” she gasped and grabbed for his arm.

“We need to get your land legs under you again.”

“I think you’re right,” she lied. Her legs were fine. It was the rest of her that didn’t seem right.

At Jamie’s side she walked across the spectacular
lobby to an elevator. It was one of five hydraulic elevators in the Palace Hotel, according to the bellboy who had been charged with escorting them and their trunks to their room.

They exited onto the upper floor where the spectacular glass roof was just overhead. The heat of the sun warmed the courtyard and seemed to have created a warm and cozy climate much different from the damp, chilly world outside.

Lining the balconies and halls were graceful statues and exquisite urns and vases that were filled with strange and wonderful plants and flowers that scented the air with heavenly aromas. It looked and smelled like a fairyland.

The bellboy opened the door and handed Jamie the key before stepping back and bowing slightly and gesturing them inside. They entered a gracious suite with a wide, deep bay window on the far side of the room that let bright sunshine pour in.

“You have a private toilet, a fire grate and ample closets if you wish your maid to unpack the entirety of your trunks,” the bellboy who introduced himself as Caleb explained.

Amber tried to think of something to say that befitted the wife of a man of Jamie’s station. A countess. She didn’t wish to gawk like a bumpkin, but she also didn’t wish to appear toplofty as if the young man was beneath her notice. She decided on, “The furniture is very unique. And it looks well made. A friend in Pennsylvania where I’m from is building a furniture factory there.”

The bellboy smiled. “The hotel was furnished by a local furniture maker. Spanish styling heavily influ
ences the design. If you tell me where you’d like your trunks placed I’ll get to it.”

“I’ll handle this, Amber,” Jamie said. “Why don’t you rest for a moment on the sofa.”

Amber sank into the downy cushions, wondering how to ask Jamie if he meant for them to sleep separately. She was completely taken off guard by what to her was an uncharacteristic move on his part. Why did he suddenly want them to have separate rooms?

“Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?” she heard the bellboy ask.

“If you could have some light refreshments brought for my lady, I would appreciate it,” Jamie said and handed the man some money. “Other than that, we should be fine.”