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Authors: Cynthia Wright
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forbid," Stephen replied, laughing. "No, we certainly couldn't have that!"
They took their chairs, with Fox seated between Stephen and Susan, across from the two Avery offspring. As Wang Chee appeared to pour wine and serve a cold julienne soup, Fox stole a leisurely sidelong gaze at Madeleine Avery. She was worked up, aside from the shock of his presence—worked up by the excitement of an occasion. When she looked at the table, which she had created with unerring good taste, her eyes were agleam with pride and pleasure.
Fox took a sip of wine and decided that the table and the appealing food could not compare to Maddie's own radiant loveliness. It was jarring to encounter such a woman in a town like Deadwood, saturated as it was with the worst sort of men who chose to live raucously, without the finer influence of women. Fox understood how Stephen Avery had come to bring his children here, but it still seemed crazy. Maddie was a woman, yet whom could she befriend in this wild place? Was she destined to remain a virtual prisoner in this house, fussing with her china and polishing her silver and reading books about the gentler life she'd been bred to expect?
"Is something wrong, sir?" Maddie inquired suddenly. Had she discerned a glint of pity in his eyes?
"On the contrary." Fox gave her a disarming smile. "I can't pretend to be an expert on gentlewomen, Miss Avery, but I was thinking that it's a rare pleasure for someone like me to be sharing a meal with a true lady like you." He paused, then dared to continue, "And, although you may not believe I am sincere, I will tell you all the same that you are the mostbeautiful lady I have ever seen."
In return she eyed him suspiciously, even if inwardly she basked in the flattery. What hopes she'd had for this evening! The parlor and the dining table had been as perfect as she could make them before she'd gone to bathe and dress. Finally, minutes before Fox had knocked at the door, she had stood in front of the cracked full-length mirror and known that she was very nearly as lovely as she had ever looked. Her green-and-white striped taffeta gown had been purchased a year ago to wear to a friend's Society Hill wedding, and it suited her perfectly. The cut of the gown accented her tiny waist and high breasts, while at her neck flared a ruffled collar, narrowly edged in green, to pick up the vivid hue of her thick-lashed eyes and set off her upswept golden-red curls.
All afternoon Maddie had dreamed of making a good impression. Now, she found it hard not to warm to Fox's compliments.
But she would not like him. He'd burst too abruptly into her life and his frank, amused attitude was distinctly unsettling. Whenever he was near, Maddie's heart beat too fast and she felt anxious.
Benjamin pouted with her, but by the time they were eating game hens with cherry sauce, Maddie sensed that her little brother was thawing. After all, Gramma Susan seemed positively smitten with this overbearing stranger, and even their father was chatting with Fox as if they were old friends.
After the two men had exchanged facts pertaining to the length of time they'd been in the Hills and the general reasons they were there (Fox cited gold and adventure, an all-purpose answer), Stephen said abruptly, "Young man, I don't know how much time you've spent in the West, but you must be aware that these Hills are still Indian land, strictly speaking. Do you have an opinion on the Laramie Treaty of 1868, or what the Sioux Indians are having to suffer to satisfy our lust for gold and more land?"
Fox nearly dropped his forkful of string beans. Straightening on his chair, he reached for his wine and took a sip before replying carefully, "You'll pardon me for appearing taken aback, sir, but that's not a subject most men in Deadwood care to discuss."
"But you are not most men, are you, Fox?" Stephen persisted quietly.
"Why, Stephen, you surprise me!" Gramma Susan exclaimed. "You're more astute than I gave you
They took their chairs, with Fox seated between Stephen and Susan, across from the two Avery offspring. As Wang Chee appeared to pour wine and serve a cold julienne soup, Fox stole a leisurely sidelong gaze at Madeleine Avery. She was worked up, aside from the shock of his presence—worked up by the excitement of an occasion. When she looked at the table, which she had created with unerring good taste, her eyes were agleam with pride and pleasure.
Fox took a sip of wine and decided that the table and the appealing food could not compare to Maddie's own radiant loveliness. It was jarring to encounter such a woman in a town like Deadwood, saturated as it was with the worst sort of men who chose to live raucously, without the finer influence of women. Fox understood how Stephen Avery had come to bring his children here, but it still seemed crazy. Maddie was a woman, yet whom could she befriend in this wild place? Was she destined to remain a virtual prisoner in this house, fussing with her china and polishing her silver and reading books about the gentler life she'd been bred to expect?
"Is something wrong, sir?" Maddie inquired suddenly. Had she discerned a glint of pity in his eyes?
"On the contrary." Fox gave her a disarming smile. "I can't pretend to be an expert on gentlewomen, Miss Avery, but I was thinking that it's a rare pleasure for someone like me to be sharing a meal with a true lady like you." He paused, then dared to continue, "And, although you may not believe I am sincere, I will tell you all the same that you are the mostbeautiful lady I have ever seen."
In return she eyed him suspiciously, even if inwardly she basked in the flattery. What hopes she'd had for this evening! The parlor and the dining table had been as perfect as she could make them before she'd gone to bathe and dress. Finally, minutes before Fox had knocked at the door, she had stood in front of the cracked full-length mirror and known that she was very nearly as lovely as she had ever looked. Her green-and-white striped taffeta gown had been purchased a year ago to wear to a friend's Society Hill wedding, and it suited her perfectly. The cut of the gown accented her tiny waist and high breasts, while at her neck flared a ruffled collar, narrowly edged in green, to pick up the vivid hue of her thick-lashed eyes and set off her upswept golden-red curls.
All afternoon Maddie had dreamed of making a good impression. Now, she found it hard not to warm to Fox's compliments.
But she would not like him. He'd burst too abruptly into her life and his frank, amused attitude was distinctly unsettling. Whenever he was near, Maddie's heart beat too fast and she felt anxious.
Benjamin pouted with her, but by the time they were eating game hens with cherry sauce, Maddie sensed that her little brother was thawing. After all, Gramma Susan seemed positively smitten with this overbearing stranger, and even their father was chatting with Fox as if they were old friends.
After the two men had exchanged facts pertaining to the length of time they'd been in the Hills and the general reasons they were there (Fox cited gold and adventure, an all-purpose answer), Stephen said abruptly, "Young man, I don't know how much time you've spent in the West, but you must be aware that these Hills are still Indian land, strictly speaking. Do you have an opinion on the Laramie Treaty of 1868, or what the Sioux Indians are having to suffer to satisfy our lust for gold and more land?"
Fox nearly dropped his forkful of string beans. Straightening on his chair, he reached for his wine and took a sip before replying carefully, "You'll pardon me for appearing taken aback, sir, but that's not a subject most men in Deadwood care to discuss."
"But you are not most men, are you, Fox?" Stephen persisted quietly.
"Why, Stephen, you surprise me!" Gramma Susan exclaimed. "You're more astute than I gave you
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