A Matter of Marriage (8 page)

“I
think I’m glad I didn’t meet your father.” He pushed his knife further away. “Did
your father’s will also stipulate who would manage the hotel until your son
came of age?”

“No.”
She allowed herself a tiny smile. “He would be extremely aggravated if he knew
I put myself in charge.”

“Your
father was a fool. From what I’ve seen in the last few hours, you are perfectly
capable of running this hotel on your own. You shouldn’t have to marry.”

Her
heart beat faster at Alex’s simply stated compliment, at his belief in her. He
was different from most men, who thought women were only good for homemaking,
intimate relations, and childrearing.

“Thank
you for saying that, Mr.—”

“Alex,”
he broke in.

She
nodded. “Alex. Your opinion, however, does not solve my problem. I need a
husband.”

He
rubbed the back of his neck. “Under normal circumstances, I might be flattered
by your proposal, but I have a feeling you’re not being terribly picky at the
moment.”

Heat
flowed into her face. “It was either you or a convicted murderer sentenced to
hang.”

“You
really are scraping the bottom of the barrel,” he said, a note of sarcasm in
his voice.

Julia
couldn’t blame him for it.

He
pointed to his scar. “This wouldn’t bother you?”

“How
you look makes no difference to me.” He was, in fact, a good-looking man. She
didn’t mind the scar.

He
tapped his fingers on the tablecloth. “Was your marriage to Williamson a
business arrangement?”

“Yes.
He agreed to do it for the three thousand dollars I mentioned before. He also
agreed to several conditions. I have some stipulations of my own.”

“I
thought you might, although you’re not really in a position to make demands,”
he said, diminishing her hopes of getting what she wanted. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

Just
then the waiter arrived with their dinner, two plates of perfectly roasted,
juicy, pink prime rib, mashed potatoes, and string beans. Alex’s stomach
growled so loudly Julia felt a sense of relief. He wasn’t likely to leave the
table—and her—until he had eaten.

The
waiter bowed to them and moved on.

Alex
leaned down and inhaled the smells from his plate. He cut off a piece of meat
and stuck his fork into it. “Feel free to keep talking while I eat.”

Too
nervous to swallow anything herself, she explained the rest of her proposition
and the arrangements made with Phillip. “Tomorrow morning, in the presence of
my lawyer, Phillip was going to sign a legal document stating that he would
never seek any further financial remuneration from me. The ceremony is tomorrow
evening, and upon its completion, Phillip was to receive his payment and leave
the Hotel Grand Victoria for good. The same conditions would apply to you.”

The
forkful of mashed potatoes in his hand stopped in midair. “I’d have to leave?”
When she nodded, he said, “But I just got here. I haven’t even had a chance to
explore the hotel yet.”

She
chewed on her thumbnail, hating to compromise. However, he was injured, and she
had promised him a room until the doctor pronounced him fit. “In light of your
injuries, perhaps we can come to an agreement on your departure date. But you
can’t stay too long. As I’m sure you can imagine, I cannot have my husband
living nearby and working for me. What would people think?”

“What
will they think if your newly wedded husband isn’t around at all?”

“I
can handle that.”

“You
have it all figured out, huh?” Alex shoveled in the mashed potatoes.

She
blinked hard against a sudden surge of hot tears. “I’ve done my best in a
situation I abhor. The will doesn’t say that I have to produce any children,
only that I have to marry. I have no intention of consummating my marriage. Intimate
relations are not part of the arrangement.”

He
set down his fork. “You’re not giving me much incentive. I would have liked to
… know you better. I admit I’m very attracted to you.” He shifted in his chair.

Julia
tried to dismiss his statement. She had always attracted male attention. His
was no different, she told herself, ignoring the flare of warmth inside her.

“Three
thousand dollars should be plenty of incentive,” she said. “You came here in
search of work.” She glanced at the frayed cuffs of his shirt, then quickly
focused on the goblet at his fingertips.

He
picked it up and gulped down half the water.

Julia
cringed. This was not going the way she had hoped. But how could a drifter not
jump at an offer of three thousand dollars?

“I’m
sorry,” she said. “I’m in a bind, and the clock keeps ticking. I hope you’ll give
my offer serious consideration.” Her legs began to shake, and she was glad they
were concealed beneath her dress and the generous tablecloth. “For obvious
reasons, I would appreciate an answer as quickly as possible.”

“I
will think about it.” He kept eating, his eyes rarely moving away from her.
Every so often he pursed his lips. She wished she knew what he was thinking.
His expression told her nothing. At least he hadn’t told her “no.”

She
picked up her fork and dipped it into the gravy-covered potatoes. She managed
several bites while she tried to decide what more she could say or do to
convince him. No shining revelations emerged.

When
Alex finished his meal, she offered him the rest of hers. “I’m not hungry, and
I would hate for it to go to waste.”

“Pass
it over.”

She
did, and he tucked into it as if he hadn’t eaten anything yet. When he
finished, he pushed her plate away and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “That
was delicious. My compliments to the chef.”

“I’ll
tell him when I see him later.” She waited for Alex to say more, too afraid to
ask him outright what she so needed to know.

He
sighed. “Julia, money-wise, your offer is something not too many men would
easily dismiss. However, money is not that important to me. Not anymore.”

Her
near-empty stomach seemed to drop to the floor. Oh, Lord, was he turning her
down?

“I
had money once,” he continued. “Quite of bit of it for a while, but it was
never enough for my wife. If I marry again, money will not enter into the
equation.”

She
forced herself not to slump in her seat. Though she had wanted to learn more
about Alex MacLean, Julia had not expected to hear it now, or that his marriage
had not been as perfect as she assumed.

“Is
there anything that you do want?” she asked in a last-ditch effort, trying not
to sound as desperate as she felt. She held her breath.

He
pulled his hands off the table, rolled his shoulders, and leaned from
side-to-side, as if to ease the ache in his injured body, but also to give him
time to formulate his response. Waiters flitted throughout the room, clearing
plates and pouring coffee. While the string quartet took a break, conversations
whirred. Boisterous laughter broke out at a table of eight.

“Miss
Fairbanks,” he said, “I think you should take a breath before you suffocate.”

Her
breath came out in a rush while heat flooded her cheeks. Despite her
embarrassment, she felt a shiver of awareness dance over her flesh. She
seriously doubted if, in the same situation, anyone else would have noticed she
was holding her breath. Alex MacLean seemed much too observant where she was
concerned.

“Better?”
he asked.

She
nodded, but as she waited to find out if there was any last hope for her, she
felt as if she were suspended over a school of circling sharks.

“Julia,
what I want is a marriage before God, a woman who loves me, and children. I
admit that I’m a drifter, but I’m drifting toward the life I someday hope to have,
a life with love and purpose and responsibilities. You and I want different
things, and for that reason, I must decline your offer. I can’t help you.”

She
sagged in her chair, feeling as if the hotel were sliding into the ocean, out
of her reach. She had thought Alex might be the answer to her prayers, but
prayers often went unanswered. She could not fault his decision, though. In
fact, she admired his reasons for turning her down. He deserved the life he
wanted. Oddly enough, Julia envied the woman he would one day marry, whomever
she was.

“I’m
sorry,” he said.

She
slowly scooted herself back up in her chair. “So am I, but I don’t blame you. I
was being selfish, thinking only of what I wanted. If you said vows with me,
you wouldn’t be free to marry the woman who’s waiting for you somewhere out
there.” She waved her arm at the window, and a hollowness spread through her
heart. She tried to convince herself it had nothing to do with Alex and
everything to do with the rapidly growing prospect of losing her home.

“Not
truly selfish.” He shifted his goblet aside. “You’re trying to look after the
hotel and your employees. That’s a heavy responsibility.”

“For
a woman?” she heard herself say, so accustomed to having her gender thrown at
her whenever the subject of her hotel responsibilities came up.

“For
a man or woman,” he said calmly, disregarding her defensiveness.

She
sighed. Alex MacLean was very different from other men, and nothing like her
father.

“What
will you do now?” he asked.

“I
expect I will meet with a murderer destined to die on the gallows. He will have
nothing to lose and a lot to gain if he has parents or siblings who could
benefit from the money I offer. I can’t give up until the deadline has passed.”

Alex
frowned, but Julia dismissed his expression when, over his shoulder, she glimpsed
her maitre d’ hurrying toward their table. She rose at his approach.

Alex
stood, too, as a gentleman did, but with the sound of air sucked between his
teeth. He put a hand to his side.

“Mademoiselle
Fairbanks,” Jacques said, out of breath, “your presence is needed in the lobby
tout
de suite
.”

She
grabbed her gloves. “What is it?”

“One
of the chambermaids, a Madame Reynolds. She has evidently met with an accident.”

Julia
stepped away from the table, her heart pounding. “Is it serious?”

“I
do not know.”

“All
right. I’m coming. Mr. MacLean, please stay here and enjoy dessert. Don’t
bother waiting for me. I won’t be back.”

“I’m
coming with you.”

She
stepped in close to him and waited until he bent his head down to hers. Not
wanting to be heard by the maitre d’ or her guests, she whispered, “No, you no
longer have anything to do with my problems. I am not hiring you as my
bodyguard.”

“I’m
not asking to be paid.” He brought his mouth close to her ear. “Julia, you need
protection. I can’t work as a carpenter right now, but I can earn my keep by watching
after you, so get used to it.”

She
tried to ignore his moist breath tickling her ear. “You are not responsible for
my safety.”

“I
think I am. I saved you once today. It would be irresponsible of me to let you
walk into more danger. You take care of the maid. I’ll take care of you.”

His
warm breath, deep voice, and bold intentions sent gooseflesh galloping across
her body. She suppressed an urge to close her eyes, sway into him, and let him
take care of her. She needed a good argument for refusing his protection. Once
she wrestled herself back under control, her common sense prevailed. Someone was
out to harm her, and having a bodyguard was the sensible thing to do.

“Come
on then,” she said. “We’re wasting time.”

As
Alex followed Julia through the Crown Room, he thought back over her unexpected
proposition. It was crazy, but it had clarified for him what he wanted most—a
loving wife and family. He found himself regretting that Julia could not be
that woman.

She
was kind and caring, considerate of others but also able to stand up to them when
necessary. She had put her rat-faced desk clerk in his place without making a
scene, and she had persuaded the insistent Alberta Hensley over to her way of
thinking with barely a fuss. She had even persuaded him to see the doctor.

When
he eventually moved on, Alex feared he would miss Julia. He might even regret
declining her proposal, but agreeing to a marriage on her terms was out of the
question. He wanted more from her than she was willing to give. Alex did worry,
however, about her second choice. He knew firsthand how thoroughly a reputation
can be savaged when anything to do with prison is involved. But she would do
what she had to, and at least the man was safely behind bars, unable to take
advantage of her or demand his conjugal rights.

They
crossed the lobby toward a woman who looked like a snowman squeezed into a
chambermaid’s uniform. Above a ruddy face, curly wisps of reddish-brown hair
stuck out wildly, her white maid’s cap unable to contain them.

“Mrs.
Reynolds,” Julia said, “I was told there’d been an accident.”

“Oh,
Miss Fairbanks, I’m surely glad to see you.” Huffing and puffing on each word,
the chambermaid fanned herself with chapped, work-reddened hands.

Julia’s
gaze skimmed the woman from top to bottom. “Are you all right?”

“Only
just. I nearly fell to my death, and that’s no lie.”

Alex
frowned. If this accident had anything to do with the flowerpot incident, he
wanted to know. He would do everything he could to keep Julia safe.

He
stepped forward. “What do you mean, Mrs. Reynolds? What happened?”

For
a moment, Julia looked as if he were intruding in her business, but then
comprehension dawned. Though she glanced at the front entrance, she seemed to
see beyond it to the attack this afternoon and the threat against her. Her hand
trembled as she brought it up to her throat.

Mrs.
Reynolds answered him. “On the service stairs at the other end of the hotel”—she
pointed toward the Garden Patio—“when I were climbin’ up to the fourth floor,
my foot went crashing straight through one of them steps. Rotted it must be. I
lost hold of my bucket, and my scrub brushes and soaps scattered every which
way. Thank the Lord for that stairway rail. I grabbed it hard as could be and
managed to save myself. If I’d been coming down those stairs, I’d have broke my
neck for sure.”

Alex
opened his mouth to ask another question, but the woman heaved in a breath and
went on. “Normally, I wouldn’t have used them stairs at this time o’ day, but
this afternoon I left my favorite brush in the fourth-floor linen closet and
wanted to get it back before one of the other girls got hold of it.”

“Mrs.
Reynolds,” Alex said, “I’d like to see that step for myself. Are you up to
showing me where it is?”

“Alex,”
Julia said, no longer trembling, “Mrs. Reynolds has obviously had a fright. I
think she ought to sit down.”

“I
think she’s made of strong stuff.” He winked at the stout woman.

“But
she could have been injured.”

Mrs.
Reynolds smiled, glancing between them like a spectator watching a match on the
hotel’s tennis ground. “I do come from sturdy stock, and I’m proud of it. I don’t
mind showing the gentleman, Miss Fairbanks. And you, of course.”

Julia
placed her hand on the chambermaid’s arm. “Are you sure you’re feeling well
enough? I’d be happy to have Dr. Dolan look you over.”

“I
don’t need no doctor, but I thank you for your concern.” She patted the back of
Julia’s hand. “Besides, I need to gather up my cleaning supplies. I left a bit
of a mess, though I doubt anyone’ll be up there to see. That stairway’s hardly
ever used at night.”

“Very
well, then.” She motioned for the chambermaid to lead the way. “We’ll follow
you.”

Alex
stayed close to Julia, swiveling his head in search of anyone who might be
watching her or planning an imminent attack.

A
few minutes later, after safely crossing the attractively lit central
courtyard, landscaped with fragrant tropical plants, palm trees, and a
decorative gazebo, they climbed to the third floor.

“Down
this way,” Mrs. Reynolds whispered as they passed guestroom doors.

Alex
glanced over at Julia and saw the worry lining her forehead. Was she thinking
about the step? Or had her mind returned to her marriage plight?

The
chambermaid stopped and pointed up a narrow, half-hidden, dimly lit staircase
leading to the fourth floor. “It’s there, where you see my bucket.”

Julia
cautiously started up, but Alex grasped her hand and held her back. “Let me go
first.”

She
looked as if she might argue with him, but then she closed her mouth, stepped
aside, and let him pass.

On
his way up, he dodged cleaning rags and an assortment of brushes.

Julia
came right behind him. He heard the rustling of her dress and smelled the scent
of orange blossoms. Alex wished she’d give him more space. His body was
responding to her nearness, and he didn’t need that kind of distraction, not
when her life might be in danger.

He
picked up the bucket and handed it to her. She set it down several steps lower,
then closed the distance again. He crouched and examined the step, sorry he
didn’t think to bring a lantern for more light.

“Can
you tell anything yet?” She leaned around him, so close their shoulders
brushed.

He
shifted away as nonchalantly as possible.

“Oh,
my goodness. I can see for myself. The wood’s almost completely broken through.
How could a step rot so badly in a hotel barely ten years old?”

“I
don’t think it is rotted. It looks like the middle section may have been weak
from the start and grown worse over time.” He lowered his voice. “Mrs.
Reynolds’ weight is most likely the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s
back.”

“Shush.”
She glanced at the woman gathering up her cleaning supplies. “Mrs. Reynolds,
when you finish there, could you please ask the night maintenance man to cordon
off this stairway and replace the step?”

“Yes,
Miss Fairbanks. I’ll be off in two shakes.”

“Thank
you.”

Alex
inspected where the wood had parted. The top edges were splinter sharp and
uneven, except at the very end, which had him worried. Carefully, he ran his
fingertips along that end. It was fairly smooth where it should’ve been jagged.
A sticky, wet substance clung to his fingers.

“Have
you found something?” She leaned over him. Loose strands of her hair brushed
the back of his neck.

He
struggled to concentrate on the step. “Yes, and it’s not good.” When he lifted
his hand, white paint stained his fingers. “It’s fresh.”

“But
that can’t be right. I keep good track of the maintenance schedule—everything
that’s been done and everywhere the men have been working. These steps have not
been painted recently.”

He
wiped the paint off on the step. “Move back a minute.”

When
she had done as he asked, he gripped one half of the board and hauled up hard
on it, grimacing at the pain in his ribs. Nails squealed as they pulled free of
the anchoring wood, but the section of step came up easier than it should have.
Alex turned it in his hands and saw what he had been afraid of finding.

“Julia,
this has been tampered with. The step was removed, almost sawn through from the
underside, then nailed back down using the original holes.” He turned the wood.
“At this end, the wood was sawn through completely, no doubt by accident. The
paint was used to disguise it.”

She
sat down with a thud. “Someone sabotaged the step.”

Somewhere
along the third-floor hallway, a woman giggled and a man laughed deeply. A door
shut, muting their laughter.

Alex
set the damaged board aside and sat down next to Julia, careful to keep their
bodies from touching. “A job like this took time and nerve.” As well as
arrogance, he thought. “Do you use this stairway?”

Her
face paled, giving him his answer.

“When
would you have used it?”

She
clasped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her. “In another hour or
two, when I did my last rounds of the day. At night, I walk through the main
building. During the day, I also check on the departments set away from the
hotel, such as the laundry and gardening shed.” She swallowed visibly. “This
was meant for me, wasn’t it?”

He
wished he could tell her otherwise, but hiding the truth from her would not
keep her safe. “After what happened this afternoon, I think it’s a logical
conclusion. We can also conclude that the saboteur knows your routine, where
you go and when you go there.”

A
visible tremor vibrated through her.

Alex
started to put his arm around her, then thought better of it. “Did you report
the flowerpot incident to Coronado’s marshal?” The suitor who had never given
up hope of a relationship with her, Alex recalled.

“No.”
She rubbed her arms, as if trying to warm herself. “I was distracted by my
marriage problem, and I suppose I still didn’t want to believe the danger was
serious enough to alert Marshal Landis.”

“Why
haven’t you asked him to marry you? If he was your suitor, like you said, he’d
probably jump at the chance to help you out.”

“I
believe he would. He doesn’t know about my predicament or that I have a wedding
ceremony scheduled for tomorrow evening. If he had heard about either, he would
have confronted me.” Julia sighed. “Now he may be my best hope. There’d be no
risk of scandal. He’s a good and well-respected man. However, like you, Tom wants
a real marriage. Unlike you, he doesn’t approve of a woman running a business.”

“You’re
a very persuasive woman, Julia. I expect you could bring him around to your way
of thinking.” Alex nearly gagged on his suggestion. Though he felt compelled to
help her, marrying her off to another man irked him for some reason he refused
to examine. “The marshal wouldn’t want to see the hotel mismanaged by someone
else. Coronado would suffer. No matter how he fits into your marriage situation,
you need to let the marshal do his job. If whoever did this”—he aimed his thumb
over his shoulder—“tries again and succeeds, you won’t need a husband. Period.”

Her
eyes went bright with fear, and her body quaked beneath a violent shudder. This
time, Alex could not keep himself from comforting her. He slipped his arm
around her back and shoulders, never expecting her to accept what he was
offering. She surprised him, though, leaning into his side and resting her head
just below his shoulder.

She
fit against him just right, and he held her a little tighter. He knew the
moment wouldn’t last, not once she gathered her courage and resolve again, but
he liked holding her, liked having her depend on him. He worried for her even
more. She was facing a clever, determined assailant who knew her schedule and
had easy access to the hotel.

Alex
believed it had to be one of her employees, someone Julia trusted. She was in
terrible danger, but unless he could keep her locked behind a stout door, Alex
feared he might not be able to protect her any better than he had his wife and
son.

*   *   *

In
her second-floor apartment, Julia waited with Alex for Tom Landis, Coronado’s marshal, to arrive. Unable to sit still, she paced the sitting room while Alex
sat on the leather sofa, reading one of her father’s dime novels. Each page
crackled as he turned it. The sound both annoyed and reassured her. He was
calm, the exact opposite of what she currently felt. Only when she had been
seated beside him on the stairs, his arm pulling her into him, had she felt
safe. His quiet, solid strength had seeped into her until she’d been able to
stand on her own again, as she had always done. And would continue doing.

She
did not want to depend on Alex, and yet, Julia knew that if he were not with
her now, she’d be pinging off the walls or cowering in a corner. Someone
definitely meant her harm. Had it not been for Mrs. Reynolds’ chance trip upstairs,
the worst might have happened. Now she needed the police to find and arrest
whoever had sabotaged that stair. Until then, she would be vulnerable and
worried just when she most needed to be strong and focused on the hotel and her
marriage situation. After Alex’s refusal, she needed a husband worse than ever.

Tom
would certainly marry her before the deadline. And as head of the Coronado
Police Department, all two members of it, he could keep her safe indefinitely. But
he wanted children.

“What
are you thinking?”

She
jumped at the sound of Alex’s voice, then scolded herself for being so jittery
in the safety of her own apartment. “What?”