“Don’t touch me,” she whispered.
“Shhh. There’s nothing wrong with you that some rest and food wouldn’t cure.”
“Rest and food,” she murmured. All the food in the world wouldn’t make Laurel safe.
“Now, Miss LaReina, no, be quiet and rest. I have something to say to you and I mean to say it. First of all, it’s true the army has ordered me to escort you, and I have always meant to fulfill those orders. Lie still.” He said it as though it were an order but his voice was quiet and didn’t anger her as it usually did. She closed her eyes and he adjusted the cloth on her head, then lightly touched the hair at her temples.
“At first I just wanted to get you to leave, to go back east where you belong.”
She wanted to say that she had no choice but to remain in the gold fields, but she didn’t. Better to let him know as little as possible.
He touched her other temple, then, very gently, he put both hands on her head and his thumbs began to make little circular motions on her temples. She could feel herself relaxing all the way to her toes. “Where did you learn to do that?” she whispered.
“One of my sisters has headaches. I learned to soothe them away.”
She could feel tension slipping from her shoulders and her back. “How many sisters?”
“Two.”
She smiled. “I have two sisters as well. Gemma is a year older and Laurel is…” She took a breath. “Laurel is just twelve.”
“That’s a coincidence.” His big hands were massaging the back of her head. “My little sister is just fourteen.”
“The family pet?”
“More than you can know. With seven older brothers, it’s a wonder she isn’t a monster.”
“But she isn’t?”
“Not in my eyes,” he said softly.
“Neither is Laurel. She smiles all the time. She used to follow me around when she was a baby and she loved to hear me sing.”
“She’s in Lanconia now?”
For a moment, Maddie couldn’t remember who or what Lanconia was, then she opened her eyes. “Yes, she’s at home in the palace now,” she said flatly, and the moment was broken.
“Thank you for the…the cloth, Captain Montgomery, but now, if you don’t mind, could you please send Edith to me?”
“Of course,” he answered, then looked at her for a moment. “What happened to the brooch you were wearing?”
She put her hand to her throat. “I—I lost it when I was hurrying up the mountain.”
“And didn’t stop to search for it? It looked old.”
She looked away from him. “It was my grandmother’s,” she said softly, then turned on him. “Would you please leave me? Get out of my tent and go away? Would you just go back to your army post and leave me alone?”
He didn’t seem in the least bothered by her outburst. “I’ll see you in the morning, ma’am,” he said pleasantly, and left the tent.
Two hours later he was bedded down near Toby on a rise not far from the coach. When he’d left the tent he saw the others standing outside and unabashedly listening to what had been going on inside. ’Ring hardly noticed them as he chose a place to camp, a place near enough that he could hear if there was any danger. Toby had snared a rabbit and he put it to roast over the small fire that ’Ring built, and then he insisted on looking at the cut on ’Ring’s arm, so ’Ring took his shirt off and Toby rather roughly doctored the four or five cuts on ’Ring’s upper body.
“She’s somethin’, ain’t she?” Toby said.
“If you like liars.” ’Ring sipped the hideous concoction Toby called coffee and stared into the fire. “As far as I can tell, she hasn’t told me the truth once.”
“Sometimes people have reasons for lyin’.”
“Hmph!” ’Ring snorted.
“We can’t all be as pure as you,” Toby said, pouring whiskey on a cut. “If you think she’s so all-fired bad, why don’t you just leave her here and go back to the fort?”
“She’s not bad,” ’Ring snapped, then looked away at Toby’s grin. “I have no idea what she is. Hell, getting any information out of her is like…like…”
“Fightin’ Blackfeet?”
“Almost as bad.” He stood up and stretched. “I’m going to get some sleep. With this woman I need all the strength I can get.” He put his shirt back on, then sat on his blanket spread on the ground to remove his tall moccasins. “Toby?”
“Yeah.”
“You ever hear the term sleep-insider?”
“Can’t say as I have. Where’d you hear it?”
“From our little—” He paused and smiled. “Traveling singer.” When he’d called her that he certainly hadn’t meant to offend her. Not that he hadn’t meant to be offensive that day, he had, but he’d also meant to scare her. So far he’d tried tying her up, dressing like a savage, jumping down from a tree in front of her, wrestling her to the ground, and even demanding that she go to bed with him. He’d made her angry, he’d annoyed her, but he hadn’t come close to frightening her. Yet today, when she’d come down from that mountain, she’d been very frightened. And later when he’d walked into her tent she’d been fighting tears.
He smiled as he remembered the two of them in the tent. He’d certainly succeeded in stopping her tears. She’d gone from tear-filled eyes to eyes filled with hatred. When she looked at him like that he was glad she didn’t have a weapon in her hand. If she had a weapon, could she use it? She could certainly ride a horse. She could ride down the side of a mountain, across streams, under tree branches. She hadn’t learned to ride like that in a park on a ducal estate. She—
“What’s that?” Toby asked, interrupting ’Ring’s thoughts.
’Ring looked absently at the arrow he’d taken from his moccasin. “An arrow. Crow, don’t you think?”
“How would I know? One Injun’s like all the others. Where’d you get it?”
’Ring held it out and looked at it. “It was sent to me, I think, perhaps, as a warning.”
“Warnin’ you about what?”
“I don’t know exactly.” He thought over the time he and the woman were rolling about on the ground. The Indian hadn’t seemed to mind that. “I think perhaps he’s her guardian.”
“How can a duchess from…”
“Lanconia.”
“Yeah, right. How can a foreign lady have an Indian guardian?”
’Ring laughed and lay down on the blanket. “That’s the least of my questions about that little lady. Tomorrow I’m going to start finding out some answers. Good night,” he said, and closed his eyes.
Maddie sat on the hard horsehide seat inside the coach and glared out the window. She utterly refused to look at the man sitting across from her. This morning Captain Montgomery had told her he was going to ride in the coach with her. Not asked. Told. He said he’d like a break from horseback, but she knew he planned to try to get information out of her.
This morning, after she’d awakened from a restless night, her first thought had been that last night, when she’d been so tired and he’d used his hands to relax her, she’d almost told him something about Laurel.
What if she’d let something slip? She could just hear him saying “My orders, ma’am, are to take into custody any man, woman, child, or animal that is trying to interfere in the freedom of this country.” She imagined pleading with him for her sister’s life and hearing him say that duty and orders mean more than one insignificant little girl’s life.
“I beg your pardon,” she said as she became aware that Captain Montgomery was speaking.
“I asked if LaReina was all there is to your name.”
“Yes,” she said, looking into his eyes. She’d tried once to tell him that LaReina was a stage name and he wouldn’t listen then so she wasn’t going to make a second effort.
“That’s odd, then, that Miss Honey calls you Maddie and your trunks all have the initials MW on them.”
“If you must know, LaReina is my middle name.
It’s Madelyn LaReina…” She was trying to think of an appropriate Lanconian surname but couldn’t.
“No last name, as in all royalty, or, should I say, aristocracy?” he asked. “Is your family from royal dukes or just aristocratic dukes? Or do they distinguish them in Lanconia?”
She had no idea what he was talking about. Ask me the difference between a trill and a cadenza, she thought. Or the range of a mezzo compared to a soprano. Ask me the words, in Italian, French, German, or Spanish to most operas, but don’t ask me anything outside the world of music. “They don’t distinguish,” she said, giving him what she hoped was a confident smile. “A duke is a duke is a duke.”
“That makes sense, but then, I guess the king is a relative of yours.”
“Third cousin,” she said without blinking an eye. It was amazing that lying seemed to get easier with practice. Maybe it was like scales.
“On your mother’s side or your father’s?”
She opened her mouth to say mother’s, but he spoke before she could answer.
He stretched his long legs out when the coach gave a violent lurch. “That was a foolish question. It would have to be on your father’s side for the title to pass down.” His eyes sparkled. “This father of yours who can’t climb very well. Unless Lanconia has a matriarchal link or your mother has one of those rare titles that a woman can inherit, in which case your father probably couldn’t take her title.” He paused at another lurch. “But then, if you have inherited the title, then presumably your parents are dead and there is a matriarchal link.”
“Look,” Maddie said, “there’s an elk. Perhaps tomorrow, after my performance tonight, I can go see some of the countryside. It’s so different here from my home.”
“Which is it?”
“Which is what?” she asked, knowing exactly what he was asking.
“Is your title a matriarchal link?”
She gritted her teeth. If the man was nothing else, he was persistent. “Please, this is America. While I’m here I want to be as American as I can be. Being a duchess is so…so…”
“Fraught with duties?”
“Yes. Exactly. It was such a boring life in the palace. All I ever cared about was singing. I spent all my days with Madame Branchini. I cared for nothing but my lessons.” At last there was a bit of truth. She straightened her bonnet. Maybe if she told him a story he’d shut up. “Once, outside Paris, after I’d sung I Puritani three nights in a row, a Russian prince invited me to a dinner party at his house. There were about half a dozen women there that night, all great ladies: English, French, an Italian lady, and a beautiful, sad-looking Russian princess. The first course was a lovely, thick creamy soup with a bit of sherry in it and, as we reached the bottom of our bowls, each lady found a pearl in the bottom of the bowl. Quite a lovely pearl, rather large.”
He looked at her thoughtfully for a while. “After a childhood in a palace and dinners with pearls in the soup, you came to America. America must be a great letdown for you.”
“It’s not so bad. I mean, America and Americans have a lot to say for themselves.”
“You are very kind to say that, but a lady like you…you should have champagne and roses and gentlemen giving you diamonds.”
“No, really,” she said, leaning forward. “I’d just as soon not. I mean, I’ve had that all my life. Even as a child I had to wear a little crown when I went out among my people.” It’s a wonder God doesn’t strike me dead, she thought.
He smiled at her. “And what were your sisters’ titles?”
She knew this was a trap. As little as she knew, she knew there was only one duchess to a family. “I find I have a terrible headache, Captain.”
“Shall I massage your head for you?”
“I’d as soon play with a rattlesnake,” she answered, leaning her head back and closing her eyes, not even opening them at his chuckle. She wasn’t sure what game they’d just played, but she somehow felt as though she’d lost.
It was noon when they reached Denver City, along with a few hundred other people. It was a “town” consisting of a couple of hundred log shacks, some tents, and a few thousand men who were all bent on making their fortunes.
As soon as their coach stopped, men ran to greet them with the news: There was no gold whatsoever; there were nuggets as big as hen’s eggs in the streams. There were men begging for grubstake money, others who were just curious. There was a camp of Utes not far on the outskirts of town and they came to see the red coach and the woman wearing the bright blue dress.
Maddie was unruffled by the noise and confusion and the questions about her name and the legend “Singing Duchess” painted on the side of the coach. She smiled at all of them graciously, then instructed Frank and Sam to erect her tent, then to start passing out handbills announcing tonight’s performance. When the tent was up, she went inside to change into a dark wool skirt that was only ankle-length and a plain white cotton blouse. Captain Montgomery was waiting for her outside the tent.
“Good day, Captain,” she said, and started past him, but he blocked her way. She sighed. “All right, what is it you want?”
“Where are you planning to go?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I plan to eat luncheon and then take a walk around town.”
“With whom as your guard?”
“I plan to go all by myself, just as I’ve been walking all alone since I was about a year old.”
“You can’t go out among these ruffians alone.”
She pressed her lips together, tried to walk past him, and when he got in her way, she elbowed him in the ribs. He gave a grunt and she walked past him. Edith had the table set. All along the way from St. Louis to Denver City they’d stopped at farmers’ houses and purchased fresh produce, and they’d brought smoked, preserved meat. Now she ate ham and green beans.
“If you must stand over me and glower, Captain, at least have the courtesy to sit down. Have something to eat.”
He sat down on the stool, but he shook his head when Edith offered to fill a plate. “I mean no offense, ma’am, but I wouldn’t touch food or drink you’d been near.”
For the first time Maddie gave him a genuine smile. “At last, some wisdom from the perfect Captain Montgomery. Too bad you’re so timid. The ham is excellent.”
From out of nowhere Toby came and stood by the table. Maddie nodded to Edith and she heaped a plate full for him.
“I hope you like it, Private.”
“I do. I surely do,” Toby said, his mouth full as he took a seat on the ground near them. “And it’s Toby, just Toby. I ain’t a private, not a real private anyway. I don’t have nothin’ to do with the army if I can help it. The army’s what the boy here does, though why he’d want to leave Warbrooke—”
“Toby!” ’Ring snapped. “Forgive him, ma’am, he sometimes talks too much.”
“Oh?” She smiled at Toby. “And where is Warbrooke?”
“In Maine. The boy here left—”
“Toby!”
Toby put down his fork. “Hell, might as well stop tryin’. I don’t know what’s got stuck in his craw.” He stood up, took his plate, and went out of sight behind the tent.
“What is in your craw, Captain?”
“Just trying to keep you alive, that’s all.”
“Alive? Who would possibly want to harm me?”
Abruptly, he took her hand, holding it even when she tried to pull away, and turned it palm-up. There was a deep scratch across her palm and a bruise on her wrist.
She snatched her hand away, then stood. “Now, Captain, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a walk around town.”
“Not alone, you’re not.”
She closed her eyes for a moment and prayed for strength. Her first thought was to try reasoning with him. Appearances to the contrary, no one was trying to harm her. But she couldn’t reassure him of that fact without telling him more than she meant to. As she started walking, she thought she’d try to ignore him, but i
t wasn’t easy to ignore a man six feet three inches tall and weighing, she’d guess, somewhere over two hundred pounds. And, too, he glowered.
Since it was quite unusual in Denver City to see a woman who wasn’t for sale, she caused quite a bit of commotion as she walked down the wide, dirty paths that served as streets. She stopped at tents with crude tables set up outside them, the tables covered with goods from the East. Often, people in the East sold everything they owned to outfit themselves with wagons and basic necessities for the journey to the gold fields, and when they arrived they sold it all for a few pans and shovels and maybe for a bit of land near a stream.
Maddie looked at lanterns, then picked up a very pretty lace collar. As she did so, three dirty miners stopped, their hats crushed to their chests, and stared at her. She turned and smiled at them. “Good morning.”
They nodded back to her.
“Have you found any gold yet?”
One of the men reached into his pocket, but as he withdrew his hand, Captain Montgomery was there, a big hand clamped down on the smaller man’s wrist.
Maddie was embarrassed as well as outraged. She grabbed the captain’s wrist. “My apologies, gentlemen,” she said, and turned away.
“He could have had a gun in his pocket,” ’Ring said from behind her. “I was just protecting—”
“Protecting me from what? A few lonely miners?” She turned and faced him. “Captain Montgomery, go away! Leave me alone!”
“I am going to protect you no matter what I have to do. No matter how unpleasant this is for both of us.”
That did it, she thought as she turned away. Now he was insinuating that it was a burden to have to spend time with her. She marched ahead of him, her fists clenched at her sides. All along the road were curious men stopping to look at this tall, elegant-looking woman being followed by an even taller man. The men began to nudge each other since they could tell that the woman was very angry.