“What about those summer parties we’d attend together?”
He chuckled. “I didn’t mean that I would necessarily escort you, but we could attend together. If you have a husband, then you can be on his arm instead of mine.”
Laura salted the quiche on her plate. “I don’t need a husband at the moment.”
“Hear me out. The young man I have in mind is none other than Wilson Porter.”
“Will? You want me to marry Will?” She almost giggled. How strange that he should take this direction.
“He’s a fine, upstanding young man, and he’s recently come into an inheritance that can see you both settled with a very comfortable future.”
Money. That was why Will had suddenly become acceptable. It would seem the plans Will hoped to lay were coming into play.
“What if he’s not interested in such a settling?” Laura picked up a piece of toast. “He might have no desires for a wife. He did plan to go preach on a reservation.”
“Not anymore. He’s coming to work for me. Starting tomorrow.”
“I must say all of this comes as a surprise.” She tried to sound blasé about the entire matter.
“Get used to the idea. I believe you and Mr. Porter make the perfect match. You spent all that time caring for him and getting to know each other. I seem to recall you got along quite well. I think we should hold the wedding right away.”
“Like this summer?” Laura asked, truly surprised by her father’s desire to act quickly.
“No. Like next month.”
“Next month?” Laura dropped the toast. “People will think we have to get married. That something untoward happened while Will and I were spending all that time together. I couldn’t put that on him. He’s to be a pastor and must live above reproach.”
“Nonsense. Everyone knows you were heavily supervised while caring for Mr. Porter. I’ve spoken to him, and he’s not opposed to marrying next month. This way when he leaves for his trip to escort the governor, he’ll be doing so as a wedded man. That will make his social standing seem all the more important.”
“You’ve talked to him about marrying me?” Laura considered all that Will had told her on Friday. He’d said nothing about asking her father for her hand. She supposed it was all just part of the pretense to catch him in the act of trying to kill the governor. Perhaps it had been a last-minute consideration, something Will felt would further gain her father’s trust. That would make sense, but why was her father pushing so hard to make it happen right away?
Laura feared the only reason her father wanted them married in April was that Will’s fortune would come to her should he die along with the governor on their trip to Cheyenne. She hated being so suspicious of her father, but it made sense.
The grandfather clock in the hall chimed the hour, and her father threw down his napkin and jumped up from his chair. He’d barely eaten any of his breakfast. “The time has gotten away from me, and I must go. I’ll be back late tonight. Don’t wait up. It will be after ten. If you have something you need to discuss with me, we can do it first thing tomorrow.”
“Have a good Easter, Father,” Laura called after him. “I’ll be praying for you.” He said nothing in reply.
She waited a good five minutes after hearing the front door close before getting to her feet and ringing for Etta. The housekeeper showed up in record time and quickly cleared away the dishes.
As the two women made their way upstairs, Laura commended her. “Breakfast was delicious, by the way, and your service impeccable. I had no idea you knew how to make quiche.”
“I don’t let my mother do all the cooking,” Etta replied, laughing. “My boys are particularly fond of what they call egg pie. I learned to make it from an elderly French woman who lived in our building when I was first married. She taught me several wonderful recipes, but Mrs. Murphy is not of a mind to allow my inclusion in her kitchen unless it’s for the purpose of giving her a holiday.”
“Even so, I’m sure she’ll criticize some poorly cleaned countertop, or a dish put in the wrong place.” Laura shook her head. “But I do love that woman. She’s quite gifted at cooking.”
“That she is.”
Laura led the way to her father’s bedroom and tried the door. It was locked. Etta quickly produced the key and opened it.
The large suite with a fireplace at one end of the room anda four-poster canopy bed at the other was quite masculine. The fireplace, like the head- and foot-board of the bed, was thickly carved dark mahogany. The walls were papered in a navy-and-gold pattern, and a thick Turkish rug had been situated in front of the fire beneath two upholstered throne chairs and a liquor cart. The other pieces of furniture included a massive wardrobe, dressing table, desk, chair, and nightstands. All were heavy, dark pieces that again suggested male ownership. Everything appeared quite imposing ... almost threatening. Laura chided herself for being silly. A room couldn’t be threatening. She was just nervous because of why they had come and the things she had learned about her father.
“I’ll look in his desk,” Laura said. “You go through the armoire.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Anything that suggests a connection with robbing stages or travelers on the road. Maybe a ledger or a diary? Perhaps a collection of jewelry—you know, odds and ends that might have been taken off people. I have no idea, really. You’ve been here this past year, so if you see anything that seems strange or out of order, or if it’s something that you don’t recognize, tell me.”
Etta nodded and got right to work. Laura opened the top right-hand drawer of her father’s desk and began to search. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She found expensive letterhead and a blotter, along with a few invoices and correspondences. Laura looked through the letters thinking perhaps one might reveal her father’s secret life, but so far, the topics she found were political in nature, except one from a hospital in Alabama.
