Page 19 of The Copper Heir (The Gilded West #1)

“Of course, dear, I know it’s only for a chosen few and I’ll be the first to confess that the stakes are higher than I’m willing to part with, but I thought I could attend anyway.” He paused and waggled his eyebrows good-naturedly.

“Yes, of course you may attend,” she acquiesced and smiled so brightly Westlake fairly preened from the attention.

“But I must ask you to be discreet. It wouldn’t do to have the whole town talking.

” When the older man nodded, his jowls nearly quivering as he agreed and reassured her of his utmost devotion to secrecy, she darted a glance at Hunter, one that he was sure she hadn’t meant to do because it was a dead giveaway.

In that glance she revealed her uncertainty and a very real fear, and it set him on alert.

A quick look to Cas, who raised a brow in warning, assured him that his brother had seen it, too.

The older man grinned. “Our good citizens here, particularly the fairer sex, don’t understand the need for a bit of lively amusement now and then.

I assure you I wouldn’t dare ruin our bit of fun, but the prospect of an auction intrigues me so.

” At his inadvertent use of the word “auction” the banker brought the fingers of one hand to his lips, as if he’d said too much.

He probably had because Hunter was imagining Emmy standing there as men bid on her and he clenched his fists at his sides as he assured himself that wasn’t the case.

Glory waved to a fashionably dressed woman who seemed to appear out nowhere to escort Westlake past them to the hall leading off the left side of the foyer.

“What the hell is going on?” Hunter demanded of the madam as soon as he was out of sight.

“What happens here is none of your concern, Hunter.” She dropped her friendly demeanor as she faced him again. “Now if you’ll be on your way, I have business to attend.”

“You kicking us out, pretty lady?” Zane’s deep voice entered the fray.

To her credit, she swallowed once and plastered that serene look back on her face.

She was too shrewd of a businesswoman to completely risk alienating the men who had come to her aid more than once over the course of her tenure as madam.

“No, of course not. You are all welcome to have a drink...or a bath and a room.” She gave Hunter’s and Cas’s dirty attire a once-over.

“But you cannot persist in looking for Emmaline.”

Hunter didn’t bother with a retort and took off in the direction Westlake had been taken.

That look on Glory’s face when the banker had mentioned the Black Chamber told him more than enough.

The word “auction” pounded in his skull and his gut churned in an unfamiliar mixture of fear and disgust, but when he turned the corner the hall was empty with no sign of which room Westlake and the woman had disappeared into.

“Mr. Jameson,” she called a warning. “Hunter!” The click of her heeled slippers was loud as she moved from the rug to the gleaming hardwood floors behind him.

“Mr. Jameson!” Able’s baritone voice joined in as he started forward.

Someone, Cas or Zane, drew a gun, the sound of metal being pulled smoothly from a leather holster filling the tense air while the heavy steps of their boots followed him into the long, dimly lit hallway.

Pale blue textured wallpaper lined the walls between numerous doors leading to various dining and meeting rooms, a sconce lighting each one.

He mentally ticked off the ones he knew to be dining or card rooms, targeting the last two as potential locations for the mysterious auction.

“Gentlemen, please!” Her voice rose enough for effect, but low enough to not disturb any customers on the lower level. “This doesn’t have to—”

The closed doors rattled in their hinges as Zane shoved Able’s large body into the wall. Not to be stopped, Able grabbed the bigger man’s shoulders and pushed back, ramming him into the opposite wall.

“Able! Mr. Pierce! I won’t have a clash of giants destroying my house.

” She put a hand on each of them before remembering that she needed to appeal to the man leading the group.

“Hunter, please, wait. I’ll show you where she is, but I can’t allow you to harm my business.

” The silk of her skirts swooshed as she hurried past Cas and grabbed his arm. “Please!”

Hunter stopped, but only to level a heavy look at her. “Show me.”

She nodded and looked pointedly at Zane until he unhanded her sentry. “Fine, but the same rules apply as always. Hats and guns off, gentlemen.”

The respect he had for her and the fact that time was of the essence made Hunter give his brothers a quick nod to unbuckle their holsters. He didn’t like it, but as they stood waiting some man could have his hands on her. Besides, they’d be able to overpower anyone who stood in their way.

“Thank you. Please go lock those up, Able.” Able gave them each a hard look before he turned back toward the foyer.

She waited until he turned the corner before leading them to the end of the hall, putting herself between him and the last door on the right to look up at him.

In a pique, she snatched his hat off and put her other hand on the brass doorknob.

“You look horrible. You’re going to scare the living daylights out of her. ”

She looked at him as if he were feral. He almost obliged her with a growl. “Says the woman who gave her ‘sanctuary’ only to throw her to the wolves.”

“That’s not fair. That’s not what happened.”

“You’re telling me it’s not her being auctioned?”

She had the decency to look chastened as she opened the door and let them in.

The glare she gave his brothers as they followed him inside had them taking off their hats.

Zane grinned as he placed his on her head.

Whatever she did after that was lost on him because the sight greeting him stopped him cold.

Emmaline was thankful for the darkness in the room. There were no harsh electric lights to cast a judgmental light on the horrible thing she was doing, just candles and soft lanterns placed on the raised platform meant to be a stage.

Glory had adamantly refused when she had initially discussed the idea of the auction and had offered to lend her the money to flee, but she could only spare enough to get them to another town.

It wouldn’t come close to providing for them long enough for Emmaline to get on her feet.

If it had only been just her, then she could have accepted it and left.

Without enough money for security, then Emmaline risked taking the children away with her only to place them in greater danger.

She refused to do that. They didn’t need to simply get away, they needed to disappear, to abandon the outlaw life altogether before someone else came to collect a debt and maybe next time kidnap one of her sisters.

The brothel had been the only place Emmaline had known to run. It was where she had been born.

As strange as it might seem, the brothel had seemed like more of a home than the farm ever had.

She’d been taken care of here, had been given lessons and a family.

She still remembered the nights after closing they spent around the piano singing hymns while one of the women played.

Ship had promised her mother that family, but all they’d gotten was a dirt farm and a lot of time alone while he gallivanted across the countryside.

Each trip home he’d brought with him even more dangerous men and done nothing to alleviate the poverty to which they were slowly succumbing.

Part-gentleman’s club, part-brothel, Victoria House prided itself on being the only first-class establishment of its kind in the territory.

Every wealthy man in town had spent nights within its walls, whether to have a meal, play a hand in the card room, or spend time upstairs.

Little had changed in the twelve years Emmaline had been gone, except that Glory had made the place even more luxurious somehow.

This was the place she could earn the most money.

Now staring out into the blackness of the room, she was having second thoughts.

It wasn’t a big room, a simple parlor transformed into something dark for the evening and would go back to being used for whatever its purpose was the next day.

Its walls and furniture had been draped with a dark, velvety material of indeterminate color, because the decor wasn’t to be the focus on this night.

No, the focus was to be solely on the woman on stage, perched atop a velvet divan and draped in a simple robe of white satin with a matching half mask covering her eyes.

The robe reminded her of those worn by the ancients in drawings she’d seen and she’d been surprised when Glory had brought it to her in her bedroom.

She’d imagined all sorts of attire, all of them much more revealing.

Falling to her bare feet and leaving just her arms and a bit of her chest bare, the clothing had been a relief.

For a little while. But then she’d sat down on the stage’s divan and the slits on either side revealed the entire length of her legs and the deep V where the fabric crossed over her breasts fell open to reveal the tops of the slight mounds.

She left it open. Better to overcome her modesty now, before it was really put to the test. At least she’d have the tiny slip of a mask that covered the upper portion of her face so no one would recognize her come morning.

It was a requirement of the covenant that she be allowed to wear it all night.