Tarnished Angel (6 page)

    Stiff pride coming to his rescue, Harvey seated Devina politely and resumed his own seat. He picked up a small silver bell and shook it absentmindedly as he studied Devina's face more closely. At second glance, she did not look as well as he thought. Her color was a bit too bright, her smile strained. He did not bother to turn as he spoke to the uniformed servant who appeared at his side.

    ''Molly, Miss Devina is ready for breakfast."

    "No, Molly, please don't bother. I'm not hungry this morning."

    A flicker of annoyance nudged at Harvey. "Devina, you really should eat something. You've eaten very little since you arrived… understandable after the fright you suffered, but this morning…"

    Devina's expression took on a familiar stiffness. "The 'fright' I suffered has nothing to do with my lack of appetite, Father. If I suffered any disability at all, it was due to the intense heat, the choking dust, and the unbearably long journey in that abominable coach. I very rarely have anything more than a cup of tea and perhaps a slice of toast for breakfast."

    Harvey turned to the servant. "Bring tea and toast for Miss Devina, Molly… and orange marmalade." He held Devina's gaze with his own as he continued lightly, "Orange marmalade is one of Miss Devina's favorites."

    Was he wrong, or did he see a momentary softening of Devina's expression? A moment later, certain he had been mistaken, Harvey decided to pursue a different tack.

    "I regret that I'll have to leave you today, Devina. Unfortunately, this latest robbery has caused complications that I must handle personally."

    "This
latest
robbery?"

    Cursing himself for his slip, Harvey shook his head. "It's nothing I care to discuss with you, Devina. I think it would be best if you concerned yourself with learning more about the social activities of Tombstone so you might settle yourself in more comfortably."

    "Father, I disagree." The flicker of annoyance that had moved across his daughter's beautiful face turned into a full-fledged frown. "Since I was intimately involved in this robbery, I think it only sensible that I be informed of just exactly what has been going on here in Tombstone."

    Harvey's expression tightened as well. "You were 'intimately involved' in that robbery only because of your defiance, Devina. Had you not changed the travelling arrangements I made, you would not have arrived on the coach that carried the payroll. And I tell you now that I shall not allow such a thing to happen again."

    Suddenly realizing the situation was fast progressing into another open confrontation, Harvey gave a short laugh. "As for my telling you what has been going on, surely you're not ignorant of Tombstone's reputation, Devina. Your very explicit correspondence from New York has led me to understand the opposite. I believe your initial objection to joining me here was that you did not want to live 'under the lawless conditions that exist on the south-western frontier.'"

    Devina's frown deepened, and Harvey had a strong suspicion that he was not going to be able to avoid answering her question.

    "Father, I cannot believe you sent me to school and educated me without expecting that I would emerge capable of thinking for myself. You know exactly what I mean, and I would appreciate a candid response from you in return. I should hate to have to get my information second-hand."

    Harvey took a deep breath and stroked his slender silver moustache. He was not accustomed to being opposed at every word, but Devina was correct: She had a right to know.

    "Well, the truth is, Devina, Till-Dale Enterprises appears to be under attack. Our payrolls have been stolen six times in the last three months."

    "What makes you think it isn't just a coincidence? From what we've been led to believe back east, stagecoach robberies are a common occurrence in Tombstone."

    "I thought the same thing at first, but while larger payrolls of    other companies have gone unmolested, Till-Dale payrolls have not managed to get through."

    Devina paused, and Harvey watched as the myriad possibilities flashed across her expressive face. "Perhaps someone within your organization…"

    "I doubt that."

    "Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against Till-Dale, Father? Someone who"

    Harvey's short laugh interrupted Devina's seriously voiced question. "Devina, if the truth be known and if I cared to enumerate, the list of those who consider themselves my enemy would be longer than my arm." Taking notice of his daughter's disapproving expression, he added in a more serious vein, "Certainly you realize I could not have achieved such prominence in the business world without leaving behind me any number of people who insist that part of my wealth belongs to them."

    Devina appeared to consider his statement in silence. Then, as a sudden thought struck her, she shook her head. "I don't know why I didn't remember this before, Father. The thief, the man who held me hostage, he used the guard's name. I remember distinctly! He said, 'No, you don't, John Henry!'"

    Harvey could not restrain his laughter. "Dear, I'm afraid there are very few people in this territory who don't know John Henry Thomas. In any case, dear, George and I will get to the bottom of things. We have overcome obstacles greater than this in the past." Pausing as Devina maintained her silence, Harvey waited until the unsmiling gray-haired maid had placed Devina's tea and toast on the table and turned her enormous bulk back to the kitchen before continuing.

    "In the meantime, there are any number of things you might do to find entertainment in Tombstone, Devina. We have quite an active society here. The Terpsichorean Club for instance, or the Shakespeare Circle. We are quite a bit more cultured here in Tombstone than you have been led to understand. Believe it or not, dear, the New York production of Sardou's
Divorçons
is presently playing at Schieffelin Hall. Perhaps we will attend later in the week."

    Devina made no comment. She picked at her toast and Harvey began to feel a surging frustration. He had forgotten how truly difficult his daughter could be.

    Raising her eyes unexpectedly to his, Devina offered in a    surprisingly congenial voice. "Perhaps, but in truth, I would like to spend some time to becoming accustomed to the town. I thought perhaps I would take a walk."

    So relieved was Harvey at his daughter's apparent change of heart that it took a moment for him to react to her statement.

    "No, I'm afraid that's out of the question right now, Devina."

    "Out of the question?" Devina's expression lost all semblance of congeniality.

    "I would prefer that you wait until I can hire a personal maid to act as your companion."

    "Companion! Father, I'm not a child! I'm perfectly capable of walking"

    "I said it's out of the question, Devina." The unpredictable turns of their conversation were wearing on his limited patience, and Harvey straightened his shoulders in an unconsciously revealing gesture that caused his daughter's small nose to twitch with vexation. He paused and continued with an attempt at a smile. "Tombstone is, after all, different from any other town of your experience, dear, and you are quite beautiful. I would not want you wandering into any situations"

    "Father, I repeat, I am not a child!"

    Realizing the last threads of his composure were slipping away, Harvey raised himself to his feet and said with great control, "You will not leave this house until I can provide you with a companion. I will take care of the matter on the way to the office this morning."

    Making a last effort to part with his daughter on a more harmonious note, Harvey continued, "In the meantime, you might help me with a little matter. I've ordered any number of impressive pieces for this house, since I insist that my living conditions reflect a style consistent with my position here in Tombstone. But, in truth, I've had very little time to see that these pieces are well placed and to finish the refurbishing as I should like. I'd appreciate your expertise in rearranging things here, completing the decorating. It was my intention to have some sort of open house for my friends once this place was ready, but somehow, time has slipped away from me. Perhaps now that you're here, Devina, I might get my life into some semblance of order. I would sincerely appreciate your help, dear."

    Releasing a silent, tense breath as Devina nodded, Harvey    stepped away from the table with a broadening smile. "You may tour the town tomorrow at the very latest, dear. You have my word on it. Until later…"

    Taking his leave, Harvey walked rapidly toward the front door. He closed it behind him with a distinct sense of relief. How could he have forgotten? No one had ever challenged him like Devina, with her perceptiveness and her mercurial changes of mood. He had the feeling that whatever the future had to offer him now that she was back at his side, life would never be dull.

    Listening as the door closed behind her father, Devina unconsciously straightened her shoulders. She dropped one hand to her lap, her manners faultless even as she stared unseeingly through the window into the yard beyond. Correct posture and proper table manners had been thoroughly ingrained in her at school: "Miss Dale, we do not slump at the table… Miss Dale, we raise our fork to our mouth. We do not lower our head to meet our food."

    Devina dropped her eyes to the table. Her gaze fell on the small crystal container resting on the spotless white tablecloth. Orange marmalade. Orange marmalade and yellow drapes. Devina remembered her father's engaging smile. It had contained just the right mixture of sincerity and concern. Oh, yes, Father was a master at overcoming a woman's resistance. His technique was the result of long practice. His past gave ample proof of his ability.

    Dismissing that thought as another surfaced within her mind, Devina again experienced a flare of annoyance. So she needed a companion when she walk the streets of Tombstone. Ridiculous!

    Without warning, a dark, sinister gaze reappeared in Devina's mind's eye, startling her. But this time the penetrating eyes were mocking, and Devina felt a hot flush rise to her cheeks. Checking herself, she halted her rapid emotional response. No, she would not allow the mocking eyes or her own irritation at her father's autocratic attitude to force her into unwise behavior. She had learned the hard way that such a course of action was invariably to her own detriment. Father obviously had little respect for her intelligence and ingenuity, and those intrusive eyes Devina took a deep breathed no respect for her at all. She would prove them both wrong.

    She would demonstrate her maturity by waiting a day, as her    father had requested, before beginning her tour of Tombstone. She would amuse by becoming accustomed to the household today. In truth, there were many things she needed to do. Father's request for aid in decorating the house, no matter its devious intent, had sparked her interest. She had always found the thought of spending Father's money intriguing. If he did not provide the "companion" by evening, she would go about town tomorrow on her own. She usually ended up doing as she pleased in any case.

    Her decision made, Devina shrugged off the dark-eyed gaze that hovered at the back of her mind and picked up her knife. With a sober expression that reflected her resolve, she reached for the small crystal container and began spreading orange marmalade liberally on her toast.

    Harvey Dale adjusted the high, stiff collar of his shirt. In a quick, efficient movement, he fingered his cravat, checking its folds, and adjusted the tilt of his stylish bowler. Such was his ritual each morning before stepping out onto the street, despite the time he usually spent before the mirror prior to leaving his room. After all, man in his position an equal partner in Till-Dale Enterprises, one of the largest mining companies in this portion of the country, a man who was socially prominent, who was the president of the prestigious Tombstone Club could not afford to look less than his best. But, in truth, if had been a common clerk or teller in a bank, he would still have maintained an impeccable personal appearance. Harvey was vain.

    Having long before acknowledged that vice, Harvey had added it, without thought or distress, to the other numerous and acknowledged flaws in his character. Surely a man could not help but be vain when he knew he was handsome? He had been an appealing child, a good-looking adolescent, and he was well aware that he was a devastatingly handsome adult. His good looks had gotten him far, and he had played them for all their worth.

    Harvey took great pride in the fact that his body was still firm, free of the fat and sagging muscle that usually accompanied middle age. He was also aware that this heavy silver mane and well-manicured mustache were just as attractive to the opposite sex as they had been in their original youthful color. He had at first observed with distaste the lines maturity had added to his   faultless countenance, but later on had discovered that many women were attracted to mature men. With that realization, his already considerable ego had received another unneeded lift.