Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (18 page)

Edith inventoried her belongings. The few pieces of jewelry were gone. She regretted the loss for sentimental reasons. The jewelry hadn’t been of extreme value for the same reason that she had only the plainest clothing.
The clothing
.
If Cerise Duval could make money selling the clothes, surely I can as well.

Immediately she set about sorting her belongings. What she intended to keep, Edith placed in her steamer trunk. The items she would sell went into Kiera’s.

• • •

The bell rang as the front door of Adolfo Santiago’s framing shop opened. Short, heavy, and bald, Adolfo hurried from the back room where he worked on an order to assist the new customer. The stylishly dressed woman was heavily veiled. He wasn’t surprised. This area of San Francisco had seen better days, and business had been slow lately. He hoped to have enough money soon to move his shop to a safer district with wealthier patrons. All he needed was one more large commission.

“How may I … ”

The woman lifted her veil onto the crown of her hat.

“Madame Duval. I … I hadn’t expected to see you again.”

She oozed forward. “Really Adolfo? I recall telling you that I would be back, if your information about F. Lyn Whitson did not pan out.”

He backed toward the workroom, wondering if he could escape through his back door into the alley.

“Were you thinking of leaving?” the question whispered from behind him.

Adolfo cast a glance over his shoulder and swallowed, his mouth gone suddenly dry.

The Chinaman sat in a wheeled chair, his four bodyguards lined up behind him and the workroom door behind them.

“N … no, sir. I would not imagine leaving when you require my services.”

“Excellent.” The Chinaman dismissed the framer with a nod and stared at Madame Duval.

She ambled to a nearby chair and seated herself. “Allow me to explain why we are here.”

Adolfo swallowed again. Stepping to the side so he could see both of his guests, his glance swung from the Chinaman to Duval. “You … you’re here together?”

“The photographer, Whitson, has caused both of us considerable trouble and cost. We decided to unite our efforts to find her. However, we are here today on a somewhat different matter.” She extracted a thick roll of greenbacks from her purse.

Adolfo’s eyes went wide at the size of the roll. “How may I help?”

Madame Duval smiled, and she tapped the money roll on the table beside her. “We would like you to take a vacation.”

“Vacaciones?”

“Yes, just a short journey. Say two weeks or so. Go into the countryside, visit with your family.”

“What of my business?”

“The Chinaman and I will watch over your business. You will lose nothing.”

“When would you like me to leave?”

“Now.”

“But I have commissions to complete.”

Duval’s smile became a frown, and her eyelids narrowed. “I told you we would take care of your business.”

“Si, Senora. Please forgive my impertinence. May I get my hat?”

Her smile returned, and she gave a nod.

Adolfo hurried to get his hat and headed for the front door.

“Adolfo.” Duval’s voice stopped him as he put his hand on the latch.

“Si.” His hand shook.

“We’ll need your door keys and the key to your safe box.”

He removed them from his pocket and placed them on the table next to Madame Duval. Then he turned to the door.

“Adolfo.”

Terror shook his hand once more. He had to leave before Duval and the Chinaman changed their minds and killed him for his shop instead of paying him. His hand still on the latch, he shifted to look at her. “Si, senora.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” She waved the roll of bills from side to side.

“Ah, si.” He took the money. “You are most gracious.”

Finally he slipped out the door.

• • •

“Leave us,” the Chinaman ordered his bodyguards.

The four men split; two went to the back room. The other two took up positions near the shop’s front door.

“Madame, will you now explain exactly why we want this miserable shop and why we have paid to rent the building instead of simply taking it?”

Cerise stared at the man who was her nominal partner. They both knew the partnership went only as far as it benefited either of them. “Consider the rental an investment. Santiago has his uses, but he would be much less cooperative without his shop to hold over him. Besides, we need this shop so I can to deliver Whitson’s sister to you as a gift.”

“What would I want with the woman?”

She could not understand how the Chinaman had gained the power he held. While he possessed money and men, he lacked vision. Satisfying his enormous appetite for sex and pain consumed him. Cerise found him distasteful in the extreme, but he was in the best position to help her achieve her goals. She would drop him the minute she no longer had any use for him. Better, she might indulge herself in destroying him and his delusions that he mattered. She smiled at the thought.

“What do you want with any woman?”

A gleam of lust in his eyes was the only expression the Chinaman allowed himself. “How soon can you deliver her?”

“Within two weeks. Sooner if the information I’ve spread about reaches her.”

“Then I will assemble a shipment for Singapore. Do you have any other merchandise you would like me to ship?”

Cerise considered. The Chinaman was the best way to rid herself of whores who became troublesome. “One or two. I will send them to you with a message, once I am certain that Whitson’s sister has fallen into my net.”

“I will take my usual commission.”

“For Whitson’s sister, I am willing to split the take fifty-fifty.”

A blink indicated the Chinaman’s surprise. “You expect so much from her sale?”

“She is quite attractive in her way, nearly as lovely as her sister. Properly prepared, the Alden woman will bring enough to reimburse us both for what her sister cost us.”

“And that pleases you.”

“As I am certain it pleases you.”

“Coin is an empty return for vengeance. What of the photographer?”

“I’m working on that. But be sure to keep all of the items you strip off of her sister. We can use those to gain the photographer’s cooperation once we find her.”

“Perhaps you could arrange to be present when we take the woman. Then you could have the items and the pleasure of seeing her stripped.”

“That would be pleasant.” Cerise smiled again. Maybe the Chinaman had more imagination than she believed. In which case, she’d best watch her back. At this moment he might be planning her destruction just as she contemplated his.

• • •

A soft knock sounded on Edith’s bedroom door.

“Come in.” She didn’t look up.

“Missee, you okay?” Tsung came into the room and shut the door then crossed to stand beside Edith. “Lunchtime long past. Mista Dutch home in two hours, need dinner.”

Edith nodded but continued to stare at the photographs on the bed.

“Why you look at pictures of women with no clothes? These not good for respectable lady.”

“I understand, Tsung, but my sister made these pictures.”

“You joking.”

“No. See here on the back.” Edith turned one of the framed photographs and showed Tsung the small tag that read “Photographed by F. Lyn Whitson. Frame courtesy of Santiago Framing.” An address completed the information on the tag.

“Sister’s name Whitson, not Alden?”

“Kiera left Boston several years ago to escape from our grandfather. Before she left, she told me she would use the name F. Lyn Whitson so Grandfather wouldn’t find her. That name led me to look for her in San Francisco.

“Tsung not understand why sister run away from family. Family more precious than gold. Grandfathers wise, share wisdom, help granddaughters.”

Edith put her arm around Tsung’s shoulders. “I only wish our grandfather was like that. I can’t explain why he isn’t. I can only say that he is a very cruel and selfish man.”

Tsung shook her head. “You come to San Francisco to find sister?”

How could Edith explain the absurd terms of Grandfather’s will and what she must do to overturn them? The idea of conceiving a child just to inherit and avoid marriage was cold-hearted in the extreme and absurd when she was already wed. Tsung was trustworthy, but with her strong feelings about family, Edith feared that Tsung would take matters into her own hands. The woman was nothing if not decisive and determined. Look at what happened when Tsung decided to help retrieve the trunks. She’d also been pushing Edith and Dutch together at every opportunity. Edith hadn’t minded because being intimate with Dutch would give her lasting memories of an unforgettable man and his place in her life.

“What you thinking, Missee?”

“I’m thinking that I need to go to that framing shop to ask what they might know there about Kiera’s current whereabouts.”

Tsung took the framed photo and peered at the address on the tag. “Shop long way from here on other side of city. Too late to go today.”

“Then I’ll go first thing tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I’d better start dinner.”

“Going to shop not good idea.” Tsung handed the picture back to Edith.

“Why ever not?” She placed the picture along with the others into her steamer trunk.

“To get to shop, must go to bad part of town.”

“Oh.” Edith traced the edge of the trunk lid. “Do you think the owner would come to me?”

“If owner respectable, yes.”

“Then I’ll send a note. Could you see that it gets delivered?”

The other woman nodded. “Lijun go.”

“Thank you, Tsung. I’ll write the note and give it to you when I come down to help with dinner. Now I have one last favor to ask.”

“Tsung do anything for Missee.”

Edith blushed. She was taking tremendous advantage of the Chinese woman’s friendship, but what alternative did she have? Dutch was rarely home, and even Edith knew not to ask favors of a man when trying to seduce him.

“Do you think your family could sell the things in that other trunk for me? I’d give them a commission.”

Tsung looked into the trunk that had been Kiera’s and nodded. “We sell. No commission needed.”

“Thank you.” Gratitude watered her eyes.

Together they closed that trunk. Then Edith hugged Tsung before the other woman went downstairs to start preparing dinner. Dutch would be home to eat for once, and she needed to take full advantage of this rare opportunity.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Garden fresh beans littered the kitchen table. Edith gave a bean a desultory snap and tossed it toward the bowl on the table. She missed. She didn’t care. What good did it do to cook heavenly meals, scent herself with cocoa oil, even be willing to act in a most unseemly and forward manner all to gain the attention of a man who never stayed home long enough to be seduced? A man she was legally married to.

Contrary to expectation, Dutch hadn’t come home the night after his father’s visit. Nor did he return the next three until after she retired. Even worse, Edith had received no reply from the owner of the shop where Kiera’s pictures had been framed. She’d finally determined to go on her own. The owner couldn’t ignore her if she stood in front of him. However, every time she attempted to leave the house, one of Tsung’s relatives arrived to ask questions about the sale of one or more items from Kiera’s trunk. Edith would have thought the Tsang family conspired to keep her at home, if she could have imagined any reason for them to do so.

The kitchen door opened and closed. Edith raised her head, hopeful that Dutch had finally come home to rest from his searches for Trey, but only a bundle-ladened Tsung stood inside the door. “Oh,” she said, “It’s just you.” Edith lowered her head and snapped another bean.

“Not just Tsung, Missee Edie.” The Chinese woman stepped closer.

Edith looked up once more. She drew her brows together. “Do you have more questions about selling the clothing?”

“No, Missee, but Tsung bring secret weapon.” She held out a linen wrapped bundle.

“I beg your pardon? What could I possibly want with a weapon?”

“Tsung notice that you and Mista Dutch not share bed, even though you married couple. Tsung wonder, you still want Mista Dutch?”

Edith considered. She needed Dutch like she needed water. But did she want him? What woman would want such a temperamental, uncooperative, alluring, sinfully talented man? She shook her head.
Need
, she understood.
Want
? Want was confusing beyond belief. She’d stick with need. Besides, if she consummated the marriage, Dutch might feel justified in denying her the annulment. She sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“How complicated? He want you. You want him. Yes? We talk about you want Mista Dutch before. You change mind? Why you marry Mista Dutch?”

Edith shook her head. “I can’t say why, but it just isn’t that simple.”

“Tsung understand. You think Mista Dutch stay away because he want you. He not trust himself when he near you.”

Edith snorted. The housemaid had no idea how far off the mark she was. “Mista Dutch is away so much because he is trying to rescue his brother and help me find my sister.”

Tsung nodded. “Yes-yes that true, but Mista Dutch too close to problem. Need take break from worry. Need you. You need him.”

“I know that, Tsung, but I can’t force Dutch to rest. Besides, I have my own troubles.”

“Married couple share troubles. You search for sister, but you rest. Now you take time convince Mista Dutch to rest. Take time for love Mista Dutch.”

“If I thought he’d cooperate, I’d do it.”

“You use secret weapon, he cooperate.”

“The man has to be around for anything to be effective.”

“You not worry. I make sure Mista Dutch home for dinner tonight.”

“Assuming you do work this miracle, Tsung. How am I supposed to take advantage of it?”

“With this.” Tsung unrolled the bundle exposing the shimmer of crimson satin and the flash of gold.

“What in the world?”

“You wear secret weapon. Mista Dutch not able to resist.”

Edith lifted the supple cloth and examined the garment. “You want me to wear this?” A row of three small knotted buttons slanted across the upper left shoulder of the narrow, bright red column of cloth from collar to shoulder. Small cap sleeves attached to the bodice just saved the gown, if it could be called that, from being sleeveless.