Rebecca Hagan Lee (32 page)

SHE HAD NO
idea how she was going to face him. What could she say to the man who had kissed her as if he never wanted to let her go, then had walked away and left her standing alone? Should she try to forget the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her? Or should she remind James that he seemed to have enjoyed kissing her as much as she enjoyed being kissed? And if she needed to remind him, how should she go about it? How did you show a man you had fallen in love with him if he wouldn’t let you? Especially when he wouldn’t let you? Elizabeth took a deep breath as she pushed the last hairpin into the thick chignon at the nape of her neck. She smoothed her hands over the form-fitting bodice of her dark green morning dress and brushed away invisible wrinkles, then bent to make up her bed. It was six in the morning. Time to wake the Treasures and get them downstairs for breakfast. Actually, it was a few minutes after six, past time for her to wake the girls, but Elizabeth had taken far more care with her toilette than usual. Somehow, it seemed vitally important that she look her best when James saw her this morning. More than her
pride had been affected when James had left her standing alone in the playroom. He’d pricked her vanity as well, and Elizabeth wanted him to see exactly what he’d walked away from.

Elizabeth removed Portia from her resting place on the pillow beside hers, then placed the doll on the little chair in front of the vanity. Then she straightened the sheets on her bed, plumped the pillows, and pulled the quilted coverlet up over the pillows and tucked it into place.

“Who’s tat?”

Elizabeth whirled around at the sound of the voice behind her and stumbled over a pair of shoes. Big shoes. Men’s shoes. James’s shoes. Lying halfway under her bed. Elizabeth stared at the shiny leather shoes. Not only had he sat on the balcony outside her room, but he’d apparently spent enough time inside it to take off his shoes and make himself comfortable.

A vivid image of James as he’d looked earlier in the morning in the nursery came to mind. James with his dress shirt unfastened and untucked pushing a chair toward her with his stockinged foot. Elizabeth retrieved his shoes and placed them on top of the dressing table.

“Daddy.” Garnet grinned up at her.

“Yes, Daddy’s,” Elizabeth confirmed as she bent and lifted Garnet high over her head, then lowered her and held her anchored on her hip. “What are you doing up? And what do you suppose your daddy’s shoes were doing beneath my bed?”

Garnet smiled shyly, again, then looked over Elizabeth’s shoulder and repeated her earlier question, “Who’s tat?”

Elizabeth followed Garnet’s gaze in the mirror over the dressing table. “That’s Portia,” Elizabeth told her. “My oldest and dearest friend. My father gave Portia to me to take the sting out of having a baby brother when I was a little girl not much older than you.”

Garnet opened and closed her small hand in gesture that indicated she wanted to hold the doll.

“Would you like to hold Portia while we get you dressed and ready for breakfast?” Elizabeth asked.

Garnet gave her an enthusiastic nod and Elizabeth reached for Portia and handed her to Garnet.

Garnet hugged the doll to her chest. Elizabeth couldn’t help but wince at the abuse Portia’s elaborate coiffure and velvet suit were taking. But when Garnet impulsively reached out a hand to include Elizabeth in the embrace, Elizabeth decided that it was time Portia had a little girl hug her and muss her clothes. It seemed a fitting reward for all the years she had sat untouched on the shelf of Elizabeth’s bedroom.

“All right, little gem,” Elizabeth said, her heart swelling with love every time she looked at Garnet, “let’s take you and Portia to the bathroom, then get you dressed for breakfast.”

CHANGING EMERALD’S DIAPER
and Garnet’s drawers and dressing and combing their hair and fastening ribbons that matched their frocks into their baby-fine hair went faster than Elizabeth expected. And bathing and changing Diamond was easy compared to Ruby.

Ruby resisted Elizabeth at every turn. She fought when Elizabeth took off her nightgown. She squirmed and cried when Elizabeth dressed her in a red dress and white pinafore. Ruby twisted and turned and pulled away as Elizabeth combed her hair. She yanked the matching red ribbon from her hair and threw it to the floor in a fit of temper. Elizabeth discovered that dressing Ruby was as much a war of wills as bathing her had been, but for different reasons. Ruby had fought the bath because she was afraid of water. She fought Elizabeth’s attempt to dress her simply because she had decided she didn’t want Elizabeth to speak to her, much less touch her. Delia arrived to help in the nursery during the fray, but Elizabeth gave her the easier task of taking care of Diamond instead of the older girls and continued
dressing Ruby herself. Elizabeth claimed a moral victory in the battle because she had managed to dress all four girls by herself. That she was ten minutes late for breakfast was of no consequence compared to her incredible accomplishment. But when all was said and done, Elizabeth wasn’t sure who had emerged the victor. Ruby was wearing the dress Elizabeth had selected for her, but she had managed to foil Elizabeth’s best attempts at putting on her stockings and shoes. Elizabeth had finally conceded the stockings and shoes after Ruby had pulled them off and thrown them at her—not once, but twice. Ruby’s victory in the stocking skirmish meant that she was on her way to breakfast barelegged, barefoot, and furious.

All because Elizabeth had allowed Garnet to carry Portia into the nursery and Ruby had decided to lay claim to her.

“Good morning.” James glanced pointedly at the clock on the wall, then rose from his place at the table where he’d passed the time waiting for Elizabeth and the girls to come down to breakfast by perusing the latest bundle of newspapers from San Francisco that Will had brought with him on the morning express mail train. “You’re ten minutes late.”

Elizabeth, who had Ruby by one hand and Emerald on her hip, shot him a dirty look. “So dock me.”

James raised an eyebrow at her just as Ruby pulled out of Elizabeth’s grasp and ran to him, hugging him around the knees.

“What’s wrong with Ruby?” he asked.

“She’s angry,” Elizabeth replied, thrusting Ruby’s stockings and shoes into his arms along with Emerald. “Here, you try. And take Emmy. I’ve got to go back upstairs to get Garnet and Diamond.”

Will picked up his coffee cup and took a sip of the hot liquid while he focused his attention on James and Elizabeth and the thick tension hanging all around them.

James kissed Emerald’s forehead, then shifted her into one arm, while he reached down with the other and untangled Ruby from around his legs. Ruby began to cry. “What
upset her?” James asked as he placed Emerald in her high-chair before he lifted Ruby into his arms to comfort her.

“You’ll see,” Elizabeth answered as she headed back up the stairs to the nursery.

“I’ll see?” James called back to her. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Elizabeth replied cryptically, “that you should take those fancy dolls off those high nursery shelves and let your daughters play with them. They should have dolls to hold, to dress and undress, and to love. Dolls of their own.”

“What’s she talking about?” Will asked in puzzlement.

James shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve no idea. The Treasures have plenty of toys to play with.”

But when Elizabeth returned moments later, leading Garnet by the hand, her comments became clearer. Garnet had the tawny-haired doll James had seen lying on Elizabeth’s bed in a death-grip hug. She moved at a snail’s pace, apparently afraid to move too fast for fear of dropping the doll.

James had Ruby on his lap and was patiently buckling her shoes when Garnet toddled up and all hell broke loose. When Ruby saw what Garnet held in her arms, she kicked off the shoe James hadn’t yet buckled and began screaming for the doll. But Garnet gripped the doll tighter and stubbornly refused to relinquish her prize. The louder Ruby screamed and the harder Ruby cried, the more uncharacteristically stubborn Garnet became.

“
That’s
why we’re late,” Elizabeth announced with a smug expression on her face.

“Rwuby want baby!” Ruby shouted.

“No!” Garnet shouted back.

Ruby looked stunned by Garnet’s reaction, then furiously more determined than ever. She reached for the doll and tried to snatch her out of Garnet’s grasp. Garnet backed away, cradling Portia protectively. Ruby tried again, before James intervened.

“Enough!” he commanded in a voice only a fraction louder than usual.

But it was enough. Having never heard their father raise his voice, both girls quieted instantly. Ruby’s tears miraculously disappeared as he lifted her off his lap and set her on her chair at the table. Then James stood up and walked over to where Garnet stood sucking her thumb and holding the doll. He squatted down beside her. “Who’s this?” he asked.

“Libeth,” she answered softly.

He glanced over at Elizabeth for an explanation.

“No, sweetie, her name is Portia. Remember?” she replied.

“Libeth,” Garnet insisted stubbornly.

“You know,” Will said thoughtfully, “I believe Garnet’s right. She looks exactly like Elizabeth—only in doll form.”

James studied the doll, then turned to Garnet. “Where did you get her?”

“She’s mine,” Elizabeth answered. “I gave her to Garnet to hold when she came into my room early this morning. And since she seemed so taken with her, I allowed Garnet to carry Portia into the nursery to keep her company while I got her dressed.” Elizabeth looked over at Ruby. “Once we reached the nursery, Garnet refused to part with her. And I never dreamed Portia’s presence would start the Craig House War of 1873,” she replied sardonically.

James couldn’t help but smile at her apt description as he tried again to reason with Garnet. “Will you let Ruby hold Portia—Libeth—for a while?”

Garnet removed her thumb from her mouth. “No.”

“Will you let Daddy hold Libeth until breakfast is over?”

“Her name is Portia,” Elizabeth interjected.

“Not to Garnet,” James said. “May Daddy have her?”

Garnet shook her head.

“For a little while?”

“No.” Garnet shook her head even harder.

Unaccustomed to negotiating with Garnet, who was always so generous and good-natured, James tried a different tack. “Would you like Portia to have breakfast with us?”

Garnet nodded.

James smiled in triumph. “Would you like Portia to sit with Daddy?”

“No,” she said, smiling shyly back at her father. “Libeth.” Garnet ran to Elizabeth, handed Portia to her, then flung her arms around Elizabeth’s skirts.

Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her throat and tears sting her eyes. James may have rejected her after kissing her last night, but Garnet clearly approved of her. It was a start.

“I’ve been thinking,” James announced to Elizabeth after she had regained possession of Portia and they’d all sat down to eat their breakfast of oatmeal from an amazing assortment of unusual containers, “that perhaps I’ve been unfair to you.”

Will groaned.

“In what way?” Elizabeth asked in a sharp tone of voice.

“I prepared the Treasures’ schedule with myself in mind.”

Will groaned again as Elizabeth stiffened in her chair and James appeared too busy formulating his ill-advised thoughts to notice that he was about to put his big fat foot in his mouth.

“So, I’ve decided that it might be best if …” he continued.

“If I were to leave your employ,” Elizabeth finished for him, straightening her back in a defensive gesture.

James looked stunned.

“Isn’t that what you were going to say?” she demanded. “After what happened in the nursery this morning?”

“What happened in the nursery this morning?” Will couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.

“Stay out of this,” James and Elizabeth directed at Will in unison before James asked Elizabeth a question of his
own, an echo of the question she’d put to him last night. “Is that what you want?”

“Of course it isn’t what I want.” Elizabeth put her napkin aside. “I want to stay here with y— the Treasures. I want to do the job you hired me to do.”

“That’s what I want, too,” James said softly, staring at Elizabeth’s lovely face, remembering how it felt to hold her in his arms, completely forgetting that they had an audience. “I want you to stay.”

“Then why were you about to dismiss me again?” she asked.

“I wasn’t going to dismiss you,” James contradicted. “I just wanted to make your job a little easier by modifying your schedule. I thought that you and the Treasures could sleep later if you didn’t join me for breakfast.”

It was Elizabeth’s turn to look shocked. “But you enjoy having breakfast with the Treasures.”

“Who told you that?” James wanted to know, thinking that someone in the household had told her that his sharing breakfast with the Treasures was another cardinal rule that couldn’t be broken.

“Nobody had to tell me,” she said. “I can see for myself that you enjoy—no—you thrive on this morning chaos.” She nodded toward the table, to the spills that dotted the tablecloth and the spoonfuls of oatmeal that didn’t quite make it from bowls to mouths. “I’m not willing to deprive you of this.”