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
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
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