“You seem to know a great deal about the emperor.”
She grinned. “He is in all the San Francisco history books.”
Not giving up on her crazy story even now. Liam eased the carriage past a cable car rattling along in its tracks as they passed the unfinished hulk of the city hall dome and turned onto Fell. “Eventually I’ll call your bluff, Mac.”
She gazed at the cable car while Bummer barked at a mongrel on the sidewalk. “What’s going to happen when someone calls yours?”
Liam snorted and directed the surrey onto the broad gravel paths of Avenue Park. Other carriages and their occupants were taking the air on this fine autumn day: victorias and landaus, rockaways and gigs and buggies. Children and dogs played on the patches of groomed lawn to either side of the lane.
And just ahead were Perry and Caroline in Perry’s rented gig. Caroline’s head was very close to Perry’s as they chatted with a society matron in her landau.
Liam ordered Norton out of the carriage and coaxed the horses alongside the gig. Mac set Bummer on the back seat.
Perry looked up. “What kept you?” he asked. “Liam, you do know Mrs. Wyndham.”
Liam made the slightest of bows. He knew her, all right; she was one of the social arbiters who determined when one had become rich or fashionable enough to be part of the Nob Hill set—the society Liam had exerted himself to join for Caroline’s sake.
Perry, however, had his uses for Mrs. Wyndham and her ilk. They had the money he lacked; he had the culture they desperately aspired to. He knew how to make the most of his aristocratic heritage.
At the moment he clearly wished to present his supposed “cousin” to San Francisco society. He made introduction of Miss Rose MacKenzie to Mrs. Wyndham, relating the outrageous story of Mac’s fabricated origins.
Mrs. Wyndham, rotund and severe in a dark brown carriage dress, examined Mac with considerable interest but didn’t question Perry’s story. She gave Perry a regal nod.
“I trust you will take good care of your cousin while she is with us, Mr. Sinclair,” she said. “And Miss Gresham, I shall be delighted to attend your ball. I hope to see your new protegee there. Mr. O’Shea, Miss MacKenzie.” With a lift of her beringed hand she waved her coachman on.
“I knew you would be found acceptable with a little help,” Caroline said, beaming at Mac. “The ball will be so much fun.”
“Um—ball?” Mac echoed.
Caroline’s brow wrinkled. “Surely you’ve been in mourning for your poor father long enough?” She turned to Perry. “Hasn’t she, Perry? The ball will not be too early?”
Perry patted Caroline’s hand. “I think it best if Rose is encouraged to put her losses behind her rather than dwell on them.”
Liam coughed. Three sets of eyes focused on him. Caroline shifted in her seat.
“I knew you could not object, Liam,” Caroline said, her tone deceptively humble. “I thought it only right that Rose should be invited to my birthday ball.” She turned to Mac without waiting for Liam’s response. “You will adore it, Rose. I shall present you to all my friends. And it will be your first…”
Mac listened, bemused, as Caroline outlined her plans for the ball. Liam set the surrey in motion alongside Perry’s gig, keeping his expression carefully neutral.
Caroline had manipulated things to her liking once more. Perry’s doing, of course. The ball was an unavoidable nuisance, but now it had become another setting for Perry’s game.
Not that Mac would enjoy it. She would be as much as home at a formal society ball as Liam was.
The four of them drove on without speaking, bypassing the park proper with its conservatory and largely undeveloped dunes. A turn north on Stanyan carried them past the cemeteries that dotted the Outside Lands beyond the city limits. Within minutes they reached the long straight lane that led through the countryside to Point Lobos, Cliff House, and the Pacific Ocean.
“Well, Mac,” Liam said when Perry and Caroline had fallen a little behind, “I’ll give you credit. You seem to know how to survive in this city.”