parlor. The library was enough to make her gasp and grow faint with envy and anticipation. She was doubly glad now that she had indicated a preference for taking her meals in her room; the dining room was echoingly huge, and decorated with the heads of trophy game animals. She was quite sure that she would have quickly developed indigestion with all those glassy eyes staring down at her while she ate.
There was also a conservatory and greenhouse, full of strange plants. That would be a pleasant place to sit or walk when the weather was uncooperative.
There was at least one lamp lit in every room except the ballroom and greenhouse; it must be the whole duty of one servant to see to them. It was a pity that this place was too far from the city to receive either gas or the electric main; she pitied the poor soul who went about cleaning, filling, lighting and extinguishing all those lamps.
On the whole, living here would be rather like living in a palace. She had heard that these western rail-barons had built themselves manors to rival the Medicis, and now she was certain this was nothing less than the truth. Why, the expense in lamp-oil alone must rival the total of all of the household bills of any normal household put together!
She hurried her steps as she turned back towards her own suite; the place was so empty it seemed haunted, and just at the moment she wanted the cozy walls of her own domain around her. Obviously Cameron did not ask the servants to keep his hours; they must all have retired for the night. Perhaps there was a separate building as servants' quarters. That might be where Paul du Mond resided.
When she entered her own rooms again, she heaved a sigh of relief, both because she had not encountered du Mond on the way, and because after the huge and lifeless rooms below, this suite seemed a very haven of warmth and welcome.
There were two additions immediately visible; a striking clock on the mantlepiece, between two silver candlesticks, and one of the domed serving-trays. She seated herself at her little table with alacrity as her stomach had the bad manners to growl, hoping that she had not tarried too long.
Either she had somehow missed du Mond and the servants by mere minutes, or Cameron's delving into alchemical processes had uncovered some arcane way of keeping food perfect and piping hot for hours. And perhaps he had divined that with a 'masculine' mind her culinary preferences were 'masculine' as well. This was no dainty lady's dinner of toast and lobster-salad; a savory and hearty platter of rare roast beef, new potatoes, and mixed grilled vegetables awaited her appetite, with caramel flan and a good red wine as accompaniments. There were also a pot of tea, sugar-bowl and a cream-pitcher waiting at the fire, presumably for the ease of her throat, later.
It occurred to her, as she finished her meal, that it was just as well that she was in the habit of taking hearty exercise. If she continued to eat like this without those long walks, she would soon resemble the plumply upholstered sofa!
Now would have been a pleasant time to settle in with a good history and read for leisure-but her duty called, and she would be reading in any case, though it was not what she would have chosen. She covered the remains of the meal with the domed lid and returned to her station.
But with the books, she found another new addition, so small she had initially overlooked it. There was a red Morocco leather box on the table, and when she opened it, she found a lady's chatelaine watch within, complete with neckchain. Both were unique, and clearly from a fine jeweler's stock; the yellow-gold case of the watch was inlaid in white- and rose-gold, in a lovely pattern of climbing roses; the chain was a triple-strand of braided rose- gold, yellow-gold, and white-gold. This was no 'gold-filled bargain' from Sears, Roebuck; it was an expensive piece of fine jewelry.
For a moment, she was inclined to tell Cameron that she could not accept the gift-oh, why not? It wasn't inscribed with a sentiment; there was no note with it. For all I know, this is the kind of thing he gives his housekeeper for her birthday. Why balk at a trifle like a watch, when he had already given her an entire new wardrobe?
She picked up the next book in the pile-the ones she had already read were gone-and spoke into the silence. 'Mr. Cameron?'
'Miss Hawkins?' the answer came, promptly. 'I trust you enjoyed your explorations.'
'Very much so. Your home is-is stunning beyond words,' she replied honestly. 'I cannot imagine that anyone in this area has anything to rival it.'
A chuckle. 'Oh, there are other homes in San Francisco that are larger-but I flatter myself to think that mine is in better taste. You would not believe the incredible pile my partner Crocker has constructed. I hope you will forgive the watch-I know it is a bit ostentatious, but I happened to have it on hand and could not resist the play on your Christian name. If you would rather have something plainer I shall have to have Paul look further in the safe- but this does suit your new wardrobe, you will have to admit.'
'You have me at a disadvantage, for I must agree with you.' Oh, she was enjoying fencing with words with this man! He was probably unprincipled in many ways, possibly without morals to speak of, but he was witty and intelligent, and he gave her the accolade of treating her as equal in intelligence. 'There; now you know another weakness of mine, I am vain, and I fear, greedy as a child for pretty things. Greedy enough to accept your ostentatious gift. Thank you.' There. I have said it, so you cannot assume superiority.
'You are welcome.' Another chuckle. 'It is very refreshing to find someone who knows when blunt and plain speaking can be as clever a weapon as dissimulation. Touche. Now, if you are ready to begin?'
