Barrett Fenton worked as her father’s assistant and for the past three years had gradually assumed more and more responsibility at the bank and in the other Damon businesses. It had been more or less understood for the last year that Lilah and Barrett would marry. The only hindrance was Lilah herself, who kept postponing the engagement. Barrett, a mild-tempered man, didn’t press her on the matter. Lilah had no real objection to marrying Barrett, understanding he was the perfect choice to eventually take over her father’s businesses. She simply wasn’t yet ready to start explaining her actions to a fiancé.
Dinah, her smile leaving at the mention of Barrett’s name, hurriedly glanced out the window as Lilah responded to her father’s pointed hints.
“I don’t see why you have to be in such a hurry,” Lilah answered. “Barrett and I aren’t.”
“I hope you’ll consider getting in one,” Clement said, smiling. “I’m not a young man anymore. By the way, I’ve invited Barrett to dinner. Maybe he’ll propose.”
“Oh, Papa!” Dinah wailed, and turned an anguished face on her father. “Did you have to invite him our first night back? Couldn’t we have had this night alone?”
Surprised by Dinah’s outburst and wondering how he had managed to do anything so wrong, Clement clasped her hand. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t think you’d mind. You’ve always liked Barrett.”
“It’s not that I don’t like him,” Dinah said, her cheeks suffused with color. “It’s just I’d rather not see anyone tonight. I wish you hadn’t asked him,” she added, withdrawing her hand and crossing her arms over her chest.
Clement gave Lilah a puzzled look. Lilah, though not as new to Dinah’s moodiness, understood it no better than her father. She merely lifted her brows in response. She couldn’t imagine why Dinah should object to Barrett’s visit either.
The carriage rolled up a tree-lined lane to Damon House, one of the largest and finest mansions in San Francisco. Built only a few years before, the house sat atop a hill looking down on the city. A mass of gables and dormers above rose-colored brick walls, Damon House contained twenty-five rooms and was supported by numerous outbuildings, including a stable built of the same brick. White trim and railings edged the sweeping porches and high balconies of upper-story bedroom windows.
Clement had designed the house himself. Inside it he could move around with a minimum of help. The entrance had been built only one step above ground level. Instead of a step up, however, a low brick ramp to accommodate Clement’s chair led to the door.
The driver halted the team of matched bays in front of the mansion. Almost immediately two Chinese men ran to meet them, helped the ladies out of the carriage, then assisted Ching in getting Clement and his chair on the ground.
For Lilah, Damon House was a welcome sight. Of all places, it was where she most preferred to be.
She whirled around. It was good to be home.
“I have a surprise for you, Papa.” Lilah, dressed in a pale blue watered-silk gown with handmade lace cuffs and collar, caught her father’s eye.
“What’s that?” For a better view of his elder daughter, Clement looked around a gleaming silver epergne centerpiece laden with fruit. “Ching,” he said from his chair at the head of the table, “have someone take that confounded thing off so I can see.”
Ching muttered a few words in Chinese and a servant appeared to do as he’d asked, removing the epergne and opening the view from one end of the long dining table to the other.
“I said I have a surprise for you,” Lilah repeated. “But you will have to wait until morning to see it.”
Clement laughed. “If it’s a bill for all your purchases, I might not be able to face it in daylight.”
“Papa. What a dreadful thing to say in front of Barrett,” Lilah responded. “He’ll think I’m a spendthrift.”
Clement raised a finger to his lips. “I must be careful. I wouldn’t want Barrett to learn that so soon.”
A blond-haired man sitting at the center of the table directly across from Dinah raised his head. “Did I hear my name spoken? I was talking to Dinah and didn’t understand—”
“Pay no attention to Papa, Barrett,” Lilah interrupted, laughing lightly. Her father’s good spirits heightened her own. “Papa’s trying to provoke me, but I refuse to let him.”
Dinah, whose mood had undergone another remarkable change, lifted a beaming face to the others. Any annoyance she might have felt about Barrett’s presence seemed to have dissipated. Looking older than her years in a moiré silk gown of lemon yellow, she wore her hair pinned high on her head with a pair of tortoiseshell combs. Dangling emerald earrings brought out the light in her deep green eyes; her smile had been constant.
“She’s a rare woman, Barrett. Not a trace of a temper,” Clement said. “Nothing ever gets her ruffled. You’ll appreciate that in years to come, I’m sure.”
Barrett smiled at his future father-in-law. “Yes, sir,” he agreed. “There’s never a surprise from Lilah.”
Lilah’s and Dinah’s eyes caught knowingly for a moment, but neither face registered what they thought. Barrett and her father made her sound like a docile old horse, which was about as far from the truth as it was possible to be. But since neither man was slated to know the other side of her nature, Lilah smiled serenely and didn’t refute the assessment. Clement Damon had no idea how many times in the last four years she had nearly bitten her tongue off rather than say something which might upset him. His infirmity was burden enough for a man to bear. Lilah always tried to spare him any other.
“I suggest we retire to the library for our coffee,” Clement said. “We can all be more comfortable there.”
Ching immediately rolled out Clement’s chair and led the way to the library. Barrett followed, Lilah on one arm, Dinah on the other. Like all the rooms Clement used, the library was on the main floor. Paneled in dark oak and furnished with a large desk and leather-upholstered chairs, the library also served as Clement’s study. In addition to an excellent selection of books, the room contained Clement’s business papers, those that were not kept in the bank’s vault.
Clement also had his collection of ivory and jade figurines from the Orient displayed in the library. Elsewhere in the house he kept an extensive collection of Indian pottery recovered from old burial grounds, some pieces undoubtedly hundreds of years old.
With Ching’s assistance Clement moved from his wheelchair to one of the leather chairs near the fireplace. A warm feeling filled him as his eyes went to Lilah and Dinah. He hadn’t realized just how empty Damon House had been the three months his daughters had been away on their excursion to St. Louis. He never forgot how much they meant to him. What he had told Barrett was true: a man couldn’t ask for two more even-tempered young ladies. Admittedly, Dinah was a bit sulky at times, but no more than any other young girl trying to grow up.
If he had a complaint about either of them, it was that they were too temperate. Their mother had been a fiery woman whose red hair was a warning to tread lightly around her. Neither Lilah nor Dinah had inherited Marie’s volatile nature. As a child Lilah had promised to be a firebrand like her mother, but the ten years she had spent under Emily Dearborn’s care had converted her into a mild and perfectly mannered lady. He couldn’t recall ever hearing her raise her voice during the years she had been back in California.
That had been a pleasant surprise. He had expected the girls to have their seasons in London, marry, and remain there. But Lilah had refused all offers of marriage and insisted on returning to her father in California. Seeing she was determined, he’d had Damon House built. And he had no regrets, unless it was that he hadn’t brought them home sooner.
Barrett removed a newspaper from the arm of his chair. The paper was open to an article about a woman singer who had created a sensation in mining and cattle towns. He laid the paper on the table separating his chair from Lilah’s.
“Did you hear about her in St. Louis?” he asked, observing Lilah’s awestruck look as she read the prominent caption.
“Who?” Lilah mumbled, passing a warning look to Dinah.
“Delilah, Flame of the West. She’s all the talk. A stunning woman, if her picture does her justice.”
“There’s a picture?” Lilah paled.
“Only a drawing.” Barrett, who prided himself on staying abreast of all the news, flipped the folded paper over. He pointed to the drawing of Delilah in her silver-and-black costume. “Apparently this Delilah refuses to be photographed or interviewed. It’s darned clever of her,” he added. “Keeps her in a cloud of mystery.” He held the paper for Lilah. “There’s talk she’ll perform in San Francisco.”
“Really?” Lilah remarked as she studied the drawing and decided it was a poor likeness. The color came back to her cheeks. “Perhaps you would take me to see her.”
“Certainly not,” Barrett said quickly. “This Delilah doesn’t give the kind of performance a lady should see.”
“Does it say anything about the others in her troupe?” Dinah asked, bounding out of her chair.
Barrett reluctantly handed Dinah the paper. “Not much. There’s mention of an Indian girl and a pair of cowboys who do rope tricks,” he said. “Apparently no one notices much in the show except Delilah.”
“Bring me that paper, Dinah.”
Dinah, her lower lip protruding slightly, did as her father asked.
“Oh, Papa.” Lilah’s cheeks grew pale again. “Surely you aren’t interested in reading about Delilah.”
Clement laughed. “I believe I’ve shocked my straitlaced daughter,” he said to Barrett. “She doesn’t think I could be interested in a look at a fine woman.”
“You might as well have a look too,” Dinah said sourly, handing the paper to Clement. “Everyone else does,” she mumbled beneath her breath.
The room grew quiet as a servant arrived and poured the coffee. Clement read the article about Delilah, scrutinized the drawing, and then put the paper aside. “The reporter says she has a fine voice.” He glanced up. “Not as good as yours, Lilah, I’ll warrant.” He gave her a fond smile. “Perhaps you’ll sing for us once we’ve finished our coffee.”
“Oh, Papa. Not tonight,” Lilah protested. “We’re comfortable in here. We’d have to move to the music room, and I really don’t feel like singing.” She hastened on, “I’m sure Dinah doesn’t feel like playing either.”
“Of course I do,” Dinah returned quickly, flashing her eyes defiantly at her sister.
Taken aback, Lilah felt a surge of temper and had one of those occasions to bite her tongue. Dinah surely understood she didn’t want to sing tonight, not for days yet, maybe weeks.
“Another time, Papa,” Lilah offered sweetly, glancing around at Barrett and touching his hand. “Barrett, you don’t mind, do you? I’m tired. I’d like to retire early.” She almost added that Dinah was tired too, but didn’t, guessing she might again find herself without her sister’s confirmation.
Barrett shook his head. “You do look a bit flushed,” he answered. “And I still have some figures to work on tonight. I ought to go.” He stood, thanked Clement for the dinner invitation, and said good night to Dinah.
Lilah rose quickly and slipped her arm through Barrett’s. “I’ll walk you to the door,” she told him.
Lilah apologized again for cutting the evening short, all the while hoping her father hadn’t dropped too many hints in Barrett’s ear about setting a wedding date. She still wasn’t ready for an engagement and she didn’t want to be forced into inventing new excuses.
A large gilt mirror hung over a table in the foyer of Damon House. As she and Barrett passed it, Lilah caught a glimpse of Dinah hurrying out of the library and up the staircase. She and her little sister were due a serious talk. Dinah’s deliberate obstinacy and moodiness were beginning to wear on her nerves.
Barrett paused at the door, slipped his hands to Lilah’s shoulders, and looked expectantly at her. She lifted her face for his kiss. It came, a quick brush of the lips, affectionate but devoid of real passion. Lilah had an unconscionable memory of the last time she had been kissed, of the way her whole body had burned from the crush of Tabor Stanton’s lips.
Shocked at herself for even making a comparison, she whispered a goodnight to Barrett and watched him walk to his carriage. She much preferred Barrett’s undemanding kiss, she told herself. No question about it.
Hurrying past the library, Lilah climbed the stairs quickly, hoping to speak to Dinah before she got into bed. A rap on Dinah’s bedroom door received no response. Lilah entered the room. Dinah hadn’t heard because she stood on her balcony blowing kisses to the moon. At least that was what Lilah assumed until she stepped onto the balcony and saw Barrett below, just climbing into his carriage.
“Dinah.”
Dinah spun around. “How dare you come in without knocking!”
Lilah gasped, surprised at Dinah’s abruptness. “Is this a new rule?”
“Yes, it is,” Dinah snapped back. “I’d like to think I can have my privacy.”
Lilah’s brow creased. “We’ve never locked doors between us.”
Dinah tossed her head and hurried back into the bedroom. “I’m sure you’ll be locking doors between us when you marry Barrett. Why postpone it?”
Lilah’s heart softened. At last she understood. Dinah was jealous of Barrett. And most likely afraid of being alone. After all, Lilah had been both mother and sister to Dinah most of her life. Of course Dinah was upset over the prospect of losing someone she loved. But that need not happen. Lilah and Barrett could make their home at Damon House. Papa would like that too.
She spoke softly. “I’ve been thinking that Barrett and I might live here after we’ve married.” Lilah placed an arm around Dinah’s drooping shoulders. “That way, nothing much would change. I would still be here with you and Papa.”
“Oh yes it would change,” Dinah sobbed. “Nothing would ever be right again.”
* * *
Lilah and her father sat in an open carriage in front of the Damon stable. Clement’s love and appreciation for horses hadn’t diminished despite the way he’d incurred his injuries or the fact that he could no longer ride. He boasted one of the finest stables of saddle and carriage horses around. His breeding stock was of the best quality, their offspring bringing premium prices.