An Agent for Liana Page 3

  Liana glanced at her dress, yearning for a real wedding gown with a beaded bodice, a long train, and puffy lace sleeves like she’d always envisioned. Of course, that wish was silly because this wedding was only a formality.

  “Both of your dresses are perfectly suitable.” Nodding, Marianne beamed then her smile waned. “In fact, they are probably a bit fancier than you’ll wear once you’re training in the field.” She waved a hand. “Why am I telling you two? You’ve seen the type of garments we send out with the new lady agents.”

  “Don’t worry.” Dixie leaned forward. “We own everyday shirtwaists and skirts, too.”

  Fighting against rolling her eyes, Liana pursed her lips. “Outfits only worn to make the customers feel more comfortable. I’m hoping for an assignment where I can wear garments that show off my sewing skills and personal style.”

  Marianne cleared her throat. “Part of your job will be to blend into whatever situation you’re placed.”

  Chastened, Liana sipped her tea to hide her disappointment.

  Dixie twirled her cup on the saucer. “I wanted to ask—”

  “Marianne! I need you now.” Archie bellowed from the other side of the house.

  “I must see about getting that man a bell to ring when he needs my attention.” Setting aside the saucer, Marianne jumped to her feet. “Time to meet your new partners. Let’s go into the office.” She started across the library floor then turned back. “Dixie, you didn’t finish your question.”

  Dixie caught up in the hallway. “I wondered how many of the couples sought an annulment when their cases were finished.”

  “None, so far.” A wide smile grew. “Isn’t that wonderful?” Then she pushed open the office door and disappeared inside.

  Dixie’s posture sagged.

  Liana sidled beside her, slipping an arm through her sister’s. “So many new experiences await us on the other side of the threshold. Be brave, Dixie.” She glanced at Dixie’s pale face, stopped, and gave her cheeks several light pinches.

  “Ouch, Liana. Stop.” Dixie rubbed a hand on her cheek.

  “Now you’re thinking about something else.” With a tug, she pulled Dixie over the threshold and turned toward the room with a smile.

  Pearl scooted in behind them.

  “Ah, ladies. Please come forward.” Mister Gordon waved a hand. “Miss Liana, step toward the gentleman on your right. Dale Claybourne will be your trainer.”

  A gasp escaped, followed by a delighted shiver running over her skin. She looked to where he gestured and met the quirked eyebrows and smirked lips of the bold stranger from the previous day. Mister Claybourne wore a navy suit with a ribbon string tie at the neck of an ivory shirt. Too focused on the dark-haired man, she missed hearing the name of Dixie’s tall, blond agent. Stopping at his side, she glanced upward, right into his intense gaze. His eyes were the most unusual shade, somewhere between cobalt and navy. His black hair had been trimmed, but his beard still bristled at all angles.

  He extended his right hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Liana.”

  “Enchanté, messieur…” She looked down and took a breath to calm her nerves. Accepting the handshake sent tingles along her skin. “I mean, Dale.”

  “I apologize for how we met yesterday.” A corner of his mouth curled upward. “I’ve regained my manners.”

  Tilting her head, she smiled and nodded.

  “If I might have your attention…” Mister Gordon pointed toward documents laid atop the desk in two rows. “Ladies, please come forward and fill out your full names on the top line of the marriage certificates.”

  Marianne held out a pen over the papers to the right.

  Liana stepped up and wrote the requested information on three documents then moved back. The line for the groom was already filled in.

  Leaning on a cane, Mister Gordon moved from behind the desk to stand before it. He reached out an arm, and Marianne set a black leather Bible in his hand. “Rest assured, as an officer of the court, I have the authority to perform this binding ceremony.” He smiled across the line of four people standing opposite him. “Marianne and Pearl are present as witnesses to your pledges and promises.”

  Liana quivered, wishing she held a bundle of flowers to hide her shaking hands. Instead, she took a long, calming breath and noticed a woodsy scent—like clean cedar—wafting from the man at her side.

  “Friends, we are gathered in this place this morning to join these two couples in holy matrimony. Will you please join together your right hands?” Mister Gordon paused and glanced between the pairs. “The open right hand is a symbol of strength, resource, and purpose. The coming together of your right hands is a symbol that both the bride and the groom can depend on each other and the resources that each brings to the marriage. The joining also represents the merger of your lives together into one.”

  Dale’s hand rubbed rough skin over her smooth palm. She stiffened. The friction sent a thrill up her arm, and Liana watched for his awareness. Nothing changed in his expression.

  “Now, starting with Dale and Liana…” Mister Gordon glanced back over his shoulder then faced Dale. “Do you, Dale Kenneth Claybourne, take this woman, Liana, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor, and cherish her through sickness and in health, through times of prosperity and poverty, and through periods of tranquility and travail, until death do you part?”

  The pressure on her hand increased, making her gaze into Dale’s eyes. Years had passed since she’d been this close to a man. All Maman’s lessons faded from her thoughts.

  “I state my pledge to honor those vows.”

  The soft timbre of his deep voice created an intimacy like he spoke only for her ears. As she grew lost in his blue-eyed gaze, she felt a warm thumb brush across the ridge of her knuckles. Heat rushed through her body and flushed her cheeks.

  “Do you, Liana Desiree La Fontaine, take this man, Dale, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, and obey him through sickness and in health, through times of prosperity and poverty, and through periods of tranquility and travail, until death do you part?”

  The holy oath rolled through her mind, a detail about a difference in wording niggling her conscience. At the press of Dale’s grip, she started. “I will gladly fulfill my promises.”

  Mister Gordon extended the open Bible with two simple gold bands atop the spread pages. “Take the proper ring and then you’ll repeat the words as you slide it on.”

  After releasing Dale’s hand, Liana reached for the larger circle then clasped it in her right palm.

  Dale lifted her left hand and held the ring at the tip of her third finger. As he slid it on, he repeated the words Mister Gordon just spoke. “With this ring, I thee join and forever pledge my devotion.”

  The promise wrapped around her heart. Looking down, Liana flexed her finger, barely feeling the extra weight before recognizing the bearded Scotsman’s prompt for her action. She pushed the band over Dale’s large knuckle. “With this ring, I thee join and forever pledge my devotion.”

  “By the exchange of rings and promises, you both show your consent for spending the rest of your lives together. By the authority that I hold and under the laws of the Territory of Colorado, I declare you husband and wife.” Smiling, he leaned forward. “Here’s the place where you exchange a hug or kiss, if you should wish to.”

  Dale cupped his hands on her shoulders and eased her in his direction. His narrowed gaze focused on her lips.

  First, she jerked at his touch then she stilled. His movement was so slow, she knew he allowed her the chance to demur from the intention she read in his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. The man might intimidate her with his muscled size and his dark good looks, but she felt as captured by his allure as if she was a needle drawn close by a magnet. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head and waited. The warmth of his mouth surprised her, but then his lips moved as if tasting her, making her stomach jump. She relished the tingles his touch excited, thinking them better th
an any description in a novel. Breathing became difficult, and she felt lightheaded. Perhaps her corset strings were too tight. A hand braced on his hard chest steadied her but only served to spark questions about her sensibilities. Too soon, he drew back, removing his warmth.

  “Open your eyes, Liana, before you tempt me to kiss you again.”

  Straightening, she did as he commanded and blinked fast. Her vision came into focus on his widened gaze.

  Dale chuckled and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.

  Vaguely, she heard Mister Gordon repeating the pledges for Dixie and her partner. She really had to learn the blond man’s name, because soon he would be her brother-in-law. The addition to her family that she hadn’t once thought of since starting this process to become an agent.

  The next several minutes were a blur as the men shook hands all around, and everyone present signed multiple certificates.

  Breathing easier, Liana accepted brief hugs from Marianne and Pearl and a longer, tighter one from her sister.

  Tears shone in Dixie’s eyes. Shaking her head, she glanced wide-eyed at her ring. “Liana, whatever have we done? What will Maman and Papa say?”

  For once, she didn’t want to acknowledge any of Dixie’s worries. Instead, Liana wanted to enjoy the glow of being married and ready to embark on an adventure. “I’m not telling them until after the case is over.”

  Marianne clapped together her hands and smiled at those present. “Folks, Pearl laid out a meal to celebrate today’s weddings. The fare is nothing fancy, but the agency always puts on a celebration which every wedding deserves. Please go into the dining room when Mister Gordon says you’re finished with the required paperwork.”

  After a final glance at the documents, the Pinkerton agent serving as justice of the peace waved them on.

  Dale gestured toward the open door. “Are you feeling all right? You look a little flushed.”

  “Je vais bien.” She stiffened. Stop and think about what to say. “Um, I’m fine. Just excited, I guess.” At the pressure of his hand on her lower back, she jumped, then mustered a smile and stopped at the entrance to the dining room. A platter of cheese and sliced ham and beef sat in the middle of the long table at one end. Next to it rested a plate with two stacks of sliced bread. Dishes of pickles, olives, and coleslaw rounded out the selections. Seven places were set with china, silverware, and crystal goblets.

  Plates and dishes circled among the diners until everyone was served. No one spoke for several minutes, but furtive glances passed amongst them all.

  Liana took tiny bites, never knowing when a conversation might start. Sitting to Dale’s right, she couldn’t see his face, but she watched each of his movements as he ate. So many questions bubbled at the tip of her tongue—questions that would be answered sometime in the future. What she liked most about this moment was she had no idea what came next.

  Chapter 3

  Conversation around the dining table ebbed and flowed, with the ladies taking the lead. Dale didn’t feel the need to contribute more than an occasional nod. If the men started a topic, they’d just discuss a Pinkerton case, which didn’t seem right for the occasion. Instead, he enjoyed the tasty meal, especially the roast beef sandwich. The dishes prepared by Pearl were far superior to food grabbed while traveling, and he intended to enjoy every bite.

  With a coffee cup in hand, Dale leaned back in his chair and observed Liana chatting with her sister across the table. The women had similar coloring, but the differences ended there. Where Liana was vivacious, spontaneous, and outgoing, Dixie was soft-spoken, thoughtful, and introspective. Every time Liana moved, the scent of jasmine teased his nose. Angling so he could watch Liana’s expression, he noted how every emotion she felt passed over her face before she spoke. One area they’d definitely have to work on.

  If he didn’t keep his mind on the upcoming assignment, he’d be forced to analyze the surprising feelings brought on an hour earlier at the ceremony. He’d assumed Archie’s words would be more perfunctory—the starkest minimum to accomplish a legal union. But having to speak of pledges, promises, and devotion hit him deep in his chest. The lively woman next to him was his wife and his responsibility. Not only was keeping her safe his duty as far as his job went, but he’d also taken on the role of her protector.

  Three years earlier, he’d vowed never to again put himself in that position. After swallowing the last of the robust liquid, he set down his coffee cup. He hoped the price he’d paid to remain a Pinkerton wasn’t too high.

  “Here are the celebratory wedding cakes.” Pearl walked in from the kitchen with a tray holding several tiny, plated cakes. “Some are chocolate and the others lemon.” She extended the tray between Archie and Marianne then moved around the table.

  “Those look delicious, Pearl, but I do not think I could eat another bite.” Liana pressed a hand to her middle.

  Unable to resist, Dale leaned close and dropped his voice so only she could hear. “Possibly, you need to loosen your corset.”

  “Quel? What did you say?” Her gaze met his then dropped down.

  The blush coloring her high cheekbones added to her appeal, but she’d have to learn how to better hide her reactions. “Just the truth.”

  “Mister Claybourne, which would you like?” Pearl held the tray between their chairs.

  He reached for the closest plate and set it in front of him. “I’ll appreciate either, Pearl. Thank you for taking such good care of us all.” He gave the cook a wide smile then forked a large bite and savored the tartness of the lemon contrasting with the sweet vanilla frosting.

  Liana edged a couple inches closer and inhaled. “That cake does smell wonderful.”

  Without giving his action much thought, he scooped up a small bite and extended the fork in front of her mouth. “Try it. You know you want to.”

  Her gaze widened, and she glanced between the bite and his face. Then, with a toss of her head, she leaned forward and wrapped her mouth around the treat.

  Caught by her dark eyes that glinted with mischief, he couldn’t look away from her retreating lips as they left the fork. Everything else in the room faded as if only the two of them existed. The sight of a pink tongue sweeping her pouty lower lip jumped his heartrate a notch or two. This woman could spell trouble to his carefully constructed world. Looking away, he cut off another bite and chewed the fruity sweetness.

  Alexei stared across the table, an eyebrow angled high.

  At the agent’s side, Dixie’s eyes gawked over a mouth covered by a beige napkin.

  So, their exchange had not gone unnoticed. Anxious to get his thoughts on track, he shoved back his chair and stood. “Liana, please join me for a walk around the grounds.” Stepping behind her chair, he held onto the wood frame and eased it away from the table.

  “All right.” She set down the napkin and turned, using both hands to manage her skirts and petticoats.

  Frowning at her awkward movements, he crooked his elbow and waited as she glanced between his offered arm and his face. He escorted her along the hallway toward the front door. Without breaking stride, he lifted his derby from a hook and set it atop his head.

  “Let me collect my parasol.” She reached out a hand toward the hallstand.

  A useless frippery. “You won’t need it. I’ll keep us to the shaded areas.” Wanting to determine the limitations of her clothing, he walked for several minutes at his normal stride.

  “Dale?”

  The winded tone in that single word checked his pace. “Yes?” He glanced to his left, spotted her flushed face, and acknowledged a stab of guilt.

  “Might we sit for a moment?”

  “Of course.” He changed direction and moved them to a carved bench under a big shade tree. Removing a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, he brushed away dust and leaves then guided her to sit.

  “Phew. I am winded.” Liana fanned a hand in front of her face. “You have quite a long stride.”

  Dale rested a boot on the e
dge of the bench and took stock of her condition. Beads of perspiration dotted her hairline and her upper lip. She breathed in shallow pants. “How far do you normally walk in a day’s time?”

  “Around the dressmaker shop, up the stairs to our living quarters, and to the mercantile or green grocer’s.” Her brows wrinkled. “And I walk here or to a customer’s home, if needed, to do fittings or deliveries. Why?”

  Not nearly enough. “A Pinkerton agent might need to follow a suspect through city streets for several blocks. Could you track someone and keep the quarry in sight without stopping to rest? Or could you go to a location away from town to meet with a person who has important information?”

  “I probably could follow someone on the street, but I would need different shoes to hike outside of town.” She lifted the hem of her skirt and peered at her shiny black shoes.

  Proper footwear was another issue to discuss. He might as well determine what her other limitations were. “Do you ride?”

  “No.” Her lips crimped together.

  “Can you drive a buggy?”

  She shook her head. “That duty was Papa’s or the coachman’s. They always drove us wherever we needed to go.”

  Coachman? So, she had a wealthy upbringing. Why would someone like her want to become a Pinkerton? “Do you shoot?”

  She cringed and shuddered. “No.”

  “Not even with a pistol?” That status had to change.

  Liana surged to her feet and jammed clenched hands on her hips. “What type of woman do you think I am?”

  Smiling to ease the brusqueness of his questions, he held up his hands. “Not casting aspersions. I have to assess your skills so I know how many hours of training are needed.” Correct that—maybe days. He shook his head. “Maybe I should ask Archie if I can review your application.”

  She softened her stance. “I have nothing to hide and will answer your questions. I want to learn about the exciting life of an agent.”