Wild Star (Star Quartet 3)

There was a soft knock on her bedroom door, and Ira’s quiet voice calling, “Byrony.”

She quickly eased off the bed and straightened her clothes. “Come in.”

Ira took in her pale face. “Are you very fatigued, my dear?”

She managed a wan smile. “Perhaps, just a bit.”

He closed the door behind him and walked toward her. “Byrony,” he said, closing his hands over her shoulders, “you’ve been thinking, haven’t you? Thinking of all the complications, indeed, the consequences of your decision?”

She closed her eyes a moment, wondering how he could have known, but it didn’t occur to her to lie. “Yes, I have. It seems impossible to me now, all of it.”

Very gently he drew her into his arms. She’d never been held by a man before, and it felt odd, for a man was unyielding, so much stronger than she, and for an instant she felt fear rip through her. He let her go. “Tell me what seems impossible. We will talk of it. I do not want you to be unhappy.”

“You’re kind, Ira. I suppose I am just homesick.”

“Well, perhaps you miss your mother, but nothing else. And you only really knew her for what, Byrony? Six, seven months?”

She nodded.

“You now have a home, my dear, your own home. You are secure, and you are cared for. The child will, I devoutly pray, add to all of our happiness.” He paused a moment, then continued quietly, “If, in the future, you wish for a child, you will tell me. You are performing a great deed for my sister and me. I never wish you to have lasting regrets about your de

cision. Never.”

“I hope you are right,” she said. Her stomach growled suddenly.

“I’m just as hungry,” he said, grinning down at her. “Come now, let’s have dinner. Irene isn’t feeling too well so she is dining in her room. Tomorrow you and I will visit a very fancy clothier. You will need some new gowns. Friday we will leave for Sacramento. I fancy,” he continued thoughtfully as he walked beside her into the dining room, “that you look utterly exquisite in all shades of blue. We will see what Monsieur David can provide.”

FIVE

The April afternoon was sunny and cool. The wind blew stiff on the bay, and Byrony clamped her hand on her bonnet while she watched her brand-new trunk carried on board the Scarlet Queen. She smiled in delight, thinking of all the new clothes and underthings that were inside, so many things, and all of the finest fabrics. She felt like a spoiled princess. She felt Ira’s hand on her arm and turned the brilliant smile to him.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“You—well, all the new things you bought me, Ira. I’ve never had such—Well, anyway, thank you.”

“You are most welcome, my dear. Will you wear the sapphire-blue gown to dinner this evening?”

“Yes, certainly. Ira, the boat is so large and beautiful. It must rival the finest riverboats that ply the Mississippi.” She looked toward Irene and saw that the woman was looking pale. “Oh dear,” she said in a low voice, “I hope the trip won’t be too hard on her.”

“Why don’t I escort both of you to your cabin?”

Byrony nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly. The bustle of the passengers, the frantic loading and unloading of other vessels, all the smells and sounds of the wharf made her feel so very alive.

“Captain O’Mally,” Ira said. “Good day to you, sir. I venture to say we’ll enjoy a smooth trip. Allow me to introduce my wife.”

“A pleasure, ma’am,” Captain O’Mally said. “Miss Butler,” he added, bowing slightly to Irene. “You’ve business in Sacramento, Mr. Butler?”

“Yes indeed. We will see you this evening, Captain.”

Byrony followed Ira and Irene along the deck. She peeked quickly into the large dining salon that was enclosed with glass windows. I am indeed a princess and am aboard my own floating palace.

Their cabin was small but luxuriously appointed. There was a soft blue carpeting on the floor and two narrow beds along the far wall of the cabin, two chairs, and a dressing table.

“It’s lovely. Oh, Irene, come, you must rest. Would you like a cool cloth on your forehead?”

Ira led Irene to the bed and helped her lie down. He sat down beside her and gently stroked her gloved hand. “Yes, Byrony, please,” he answered for his sister. “There should be washcloths in the armoire and cool water in the basin.”

A silent Eileen appeared at the doorway, looking impassively toward Irene. Without saying a word, she took the damp cloth from Byrony and walked to the narrow bed. “I will see to her, sir,” she said, her voice a soft, hoarse drawl.