Phebe kept her eyes shut as she yawned and then stretched out, enjoying the soft feel of the bed beneath her. It was the first time in her life she’d ever slept on a feather mattress, with a soft goose-down comforter to keep her warm. Not that she’d really needed it.

The fall weather in San Francisco was very different from what she’d been used to in New York. The air here was cool but didn’t have the sharp nip to it that it did in the crowded city she’d grown up in. She’d spent the entire ride to the Frommer’s home looking out wide-eyed at all the sights, especially the large number of hills that seemed to rise right out of the bay.

The whole city had a new sort of air about it—it was vibrant, with a touch of excitement. If this was what her father and older brother had felt all those years ago, she was beginning to understand why they might have chosen never to come home again.

But if the city had amazed her, the Frommer residence had left her speechless. It wasn’t the largest private home she’d ever seen, but it certainly was the grandest one she’d ever been in. The wide entryway with polished wood floors everywhere had only been the start. The parlor, with its floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the bay, and dark, richly upholstered furniture and thick Persian rugs, left Phebe awestruck and tongue-tied. And the dinner that the very cheerful Hannah had set out would have been enough to feed half the orphanage. Or at least it had looked that way to Phebe.

Still in a state of disbelief that she’d spent even one night in such luxury, Phebe went to the wardrobe and sorted through the few items hanging there. Her meager number of garments were lost in the large space.

When she’d been shown to her bedchamber the night before, she’d found her small trunk already there and unpacked, as was the patched-together cloth valise she’d kept with her on the train. At first a little uncomfortable at the thought that someone else had been handling all her personal items, Phebe finally put her worry aside by reminding herself that back at the orphanage, they’d all taken turns washing each other’s clothes. Of course she’d known everyone there, and didn’t really know anyone here, but the idea was basically the same. Other people had touched her clothing on multiple occasions before, so she let it go.

She picked out one of her three skirts, this one a brindle-brown with a tie at the waist, and a white cotton blouse that had been washed so many times its original color was long gone. It was a far cry from the carefully stitched crinoline-and-silk skirts that the Frommer women wore, with bodices trimmed in braid and lace. Phebe sighed. They looked beautiful. It was hardly any surprise that Henry had barely noticed her presence.

Still bothered by her intended’s lack of a reaction at their first meeting, Phebe had to admit that little had changed at dinner when they’d both been mute as the conversation flowed around them.

She wished she knew how he felt about the whole idea of marrying her.

Absently glancing at the clock ticking away on a table near the bedchamber’s door, Phebe gasped. It was almost eight o’clock in the morning! Never had she started her day so late, and despite the sudden rumble of her stomach, she was sure breakfast was long past. Another sharp pang had her abandoning the idea of waiting until the noon meal for something to eat.

Quietly opening the door, Phebe stuck her head out and looked one way and then the other. No one was in sight. She eased out into the hallway, then tiptoed toward the curved staircase at one end. She slowly made her way to the bottom floor, stopping every few steps to listen for any sounds coming from the other occupants of the house. But she was only greeted with silence.

Hurrying across the front entryway and into the dining room, Phebe was disappointed to see the sideboards were empty and the table already set for the next meal. Fervently wishing she hadn’t slept in so late, she was at a loss as to what she should do now.

She wanted to start looking over the supplies Christa had mentioned the day before, but had no idea where they were being stored. As if she’d known Phebe was thinking about her, Christa suddenly popped her head around the door at the far side of the dining room.

“I was sure I heard a noise in here. Why don’t you come join us?”

Glad to have something to do, Phebe nodded and made quick work of crossing the room, murmuring her thanks to Christa when the friendly woman held the door wider. Stepping into the kitchen, Phebe stopped just a few feet in and stared at Caroline Frommer. The mistress of the house was seated at a large table in the center of the room, a plate of food in front of her and a mug with steam curling up from its top in her hand.

Christa grabbed Phebe’s hand and pulled her along. “Hannah and Nellie made sure to set a place for you. I was hoping you’d come down early so we could have a cozy chat without the men hanging about.”

Phebe looked around again, taking in the stove on one side of a long wall and the icebox on the other, with rows and rows of open shelves in between. In all her imaginings, she’d never once considered that the wealthy might have a meal, including breakfast, anywhere but in the formal dining room.

“Here?” At Christa’s laugh, Phebe gave her a sheepish look. “I had no idea well-off families ate their morning meal in the kitchen.”

It was at least one household routine that had something in common with life in the orphanage. She and her friends had regularly eaten at the kitchen table, usually while they were preparing meals for the children.

“I’m sure most of them don’t,” Caroline spoke up while Christa pointed to an empty chair beside her own. “At least not in the house I lived in.”

“Caroline’s stepfather was very wealthy,” Christa said as she pulled out her own chair and sat down.

Phebe stared at the smiling woman with the cup in her hand. “Wealthier than this?”

“Oh, lots,” Christa supplied easily while Caroline laughed. “Not that it did him much good. He had to leave it all behind.”

“Why?” Phebe’s gaze shot from Caroline to Christa and then back again.

“Because he’d never run into anyone like Adam.” Caroline nodded when Phebe’s mouth dropped open. “But that’s a story for another day. Right now, I’d love to hear what you think of our city by the bay.”

“It’s beautiful,” Phebe said, meaning every word. “I can see why you live here.”

Caroline inclined her head before setting her cup down as she turned in her seat to study Phebe. “And we’re all glad you’ve come to live here too.” She paused, her brown eyes full of a quiet understanding. “Madam Wigg wrote that you hope to find your father in addition to starting an orphans’ school.”

Feeling she owed them some explanation in exchange for their generosity, Phebe nodded as Hannah slid a plate of eggs and a biscuit dripping with honey in front of her. When her eyes closed at the exquisite aromas, Christa chuckled.

“Why don’t you go ahead and eat while we tell you something about ourselves, and then it will be your turn.” She pointedly looked at the fork lying beside Phebe’s plate, until the other woman picked it up and started eating. “I have two brothers, as you know, Adam and Henry. Adam married Caroline last year, which has been the best thing that’s ever happened to this family.” She glanced over at her sister-in-law and smiled. “And Henry needs a wife.”

That had Phebe’s hand and fork freezing in midair. “Why?”

When the other two women both stared at her, Phebe set her fork down and folded her hands in her lap. “He didn’t seem to be interested in discussing the marriage yesterday.” She frowned when Caroline and Christa exchanged a look she couldn’t interpret. “He does know about the marriage, doesn’t he?”

“Of course he does,” Christa quickly assured her.

Well. At least that was something.

“Has he changed his mind?” Phebe held her breath, hoping for an instant denial. All she got was a long pause, filled with silence.

Finally, Caroline pushed her plate away and leaned forward. “I don’t believe so, but I would guess he’s wondering the same thing about you.” She glanced over at Christa and smiled. “It’s hard to get a word in when all the Frommers are together. What you and Henry need is a little time without the rest of us, so you can have a private talk and come to an understanding about the marriage.”

Even though she’d only had two bites, Phebe pushed her own plate away as another sudden attack of nerves beat down her appetite. She wasn’t at all sure she was ready to have a private talk with Henry Frommer. She hadn’t managed to form a good response before Christa jumped up from her seat.

“I think that is an excellent suggestion. Let’s go find him. I spotted him in the garden not long ago.”

When Caroline rose to her feet as well, Phebe automatically did the same, even as she frantically sought a reason to put off talking to Henry for a bit longer.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to talk right now” was the best she could come up with, but Christa brushed that off with a breezy wave of her hand.

“Oh, Henry doesn’t have a very good grasp of time, so now will be fine.” She latched on to Phebe’s arm and pulled her along. “Come on. Let’s get everything settled once and for all.” She headed for the door leading from the kitchen to the outside with a reluctant Phebe once again being towed behind her.

The three women marched along the stone walkway until they rounded the corner of the house. Here the grounds opened into a small patch of greenery beyond the back terrace. At the edge of the bushes, Phebe could see Henry walking slowly, with his hands behind his back and his head down.

As they drew closer, she spotted a pile of charred wooden planks spread out in a large square. Henry was pacing the length of one side of it, stopping every few feet to nudge aside a burnt piece of wood. He didn’t seem to be aware of the approaching women until they were almost on top of him.

“Henry,” Christa said, drawing his startled gaze to her. “We’ve come to have a talk.” She grinned and drew Phebe up beside her. “Or at least, your betrothed has.”

Henry adjusted his glasses on his nose and glanced at Phebe. “Do you need something?”

Hearing you say more than a single sentence would be nice, Phebe thought, but she kept the retort to herself as she smiled. “I would appreciate a little of your time, whenever it’s convenient.”

“Oh.” Henry looked lost as he stared back at her. “Of course. Maybe you’d like to inspect my workplace with me? We can talk as we look around.”

Caroline coughed before subtly shaking her head at her brother-in-law. Christa was more direct with her annoyance, putting her hands on her hips and giving Henry an exasperated glare.

“Phebe is not going to muck about in that pile of rubble, helping you find anything that can be saved. You need to be in a much better place to have a talk with your fiancée.” She crossed her arms and pinned her brother with a hard look. “Can’t you think of anywhere that you’ve been to, that a lady would enjoy?”

Henry cast a glance over his shoulder at the charred space that some sort of small building used to occupy, before turning an apologetic smile toward Phebe. “I’m sorry. Of course, we should go somewhere nice for our talk. Perhaps the parlor?”

“That would be fine,” Phebe said but was drowned out by Christa.

“Kate’s Tea Shop would be the perfect place.”

Henry’s features slowly rearranged themselves into a comical look of horror. “Kate’s Tea Shop? I don’t think so.” His voice took on an almost desperate, pleading note. “Our parlor is very comfortable.” He glanced at Phebe. “Didn’t you like the parlor?”

“It was very nice—” Phebe started, only to be cut off again by Christa.

“I’ll have John bring the carriage around while you escort Phebe to get her shawl.”

When Henry finally sighed and nodded, Phebe had to stifle the sudden urge to laugh. She didn’t know why her future husband had objected to going to a tea shop, but he was acting as if it might be the last thing he ever did. Whatever could be so terrifying about this place? Thinking Henry was definitely something of a puzzle, Phebe decided a cup of hot tea would be welcome after all.

“I’d love to go to the tea shop.” She gave Henry her sweetest smile. “If you have the time.”

Henry’s face turned pale, but he managed a nod, finally holding out his arm to escort Phebe back into the house.