Page 15 of The Gilded Lady (The Gilded West #3)

Chapter Eight

Z ane couldn’t learn enough about the woman across the table to sate his curiosity about her. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know. She’d surprised him at nearly every turn.

Every day she dressed impeccably in gowns straight out of Paris.

Her hair was always styled with not one strand out of place.

She spoke in a way that was careful and articulate, her accent softening the edges of her words.

She wore cosmetics in a way that enhanced her natural beauty.

She was someone who seemed ageless. The knowledge in her eyes could’ve been that of someone twice her age, but her face was youthful.

As a result, he’d had no idea how old she was or what sort of life she’d had.

To Zane, someone who prided himself on his ability to read people, she’d been a mystery.

Today he’d learned that she’d been little more than a child when she’d landed on the front stoop of Victoria House, and somehow she and Able had made this place what it was today.

She’d arrived here with nothing and was now legitimately one of the wealthiest landowners in town and she wasn’t even thirty years old.

He couldn’t pretend to know what she’d been through in her life, but he could appreciate the strength it had taken to get to where she was.

His own life was much different than what he’d thought it would be as a child.

He didn’t believe that she’d ever imagined ending up here.

In that way they were the same. Transplanted by life, they’d both had to adapt to things they’d have never thought to face.

Yet in some ways they were worlds apart.

Her stable life here was nothing like his life spent out under the stars, chased by other outlaws, by the law, by people who hated him because he was marked with the look of his mother’s people.

He didn’t know what life had in store for their future, but he was a believer in counting your blessings while you had them.

He preferred to live in the present. And right now he sat across from the most fascinating woman he’d ever met.

He didn’t want to question how or why or what the future might bring.

He only wanted to appreciate now, visions of doom be damned.

“You can’t possibly see anything in me that I haven’t told you.” She glanced down at her plate as if she didn’t entirely believe that.

He blinked, having already forgotten what they’d been talking about. But it came back to him as he searched her features for some sign that she might want more than this arrangement they had. “You tell me more than you think you do,” he replied.

She glanced up at him, her eyes worried and somehow relieved at the same time. This woman was a contradiction. “I don’t,” she whispered.

“You tell me that you’re compassionate, caring, bold, and intelligent.

You’re feisty when you need to be, but mild when you don’t.

You take care of everyone around you.” When he paused, she blinked and looked down at her plate again, absently toying with what was left of her food with her fork. “But no one takes care of you.”

Her shoulders went rigid, but she didn’t argue with him.

“I don’t know what you want, though. What do you want in life?” It really wasn’t any of his business, and she had every right to tell him to go to hell, but he couldn’t help but push her a little.

“You don’t know that?” She smiled at him, her carefully crafted mask back in place.

He’d seen that mask every night downstairs.

It slid into place so easily he hadn’t even recognized it for what it was at first. Now he saw that it was armor.

Maybe she thought that a smile could cover up her vulnerability, that it was something she could hide behind, hiding who she really was.

Somehow over the past week he’d been able to see behind it, and the woman he saw was even more beautiful. Giving her a grin, he said, “I know that you like to fight injustice when you see it. That disadvantaged women are of particular concern to you.”

She shrugged and relief flashed in her eyes. “There you have it. I guess you were right, I do tell you quite a bit. It’s my hope that one day women will have an equal place in this world. That they won’t be stuck in unfortunate situations because they have to rely on someone else.”

She was intentionally leading the conversation back to safer territory, making it about the women she helped instead of herself.

He thought of what Mrs. Roarke had said to him earlier, and he had to know if it was true.

It had been eating at him all day. “Because you were once in that situation? Did you have no one to help you when someone was hurting you?”

She froze, but the truth was written on her face before she could disguise it.

After a moment, she swallowed, the muscles of her long, graceful neck moving slowly.

Finally, she nodded and the relief that coursed through him was so strong he nearly sagged in his seat.

He couldn’t believe that she was finally opening up to him.

“It was a long time ago, but it’s how I came to be here. It’s why I’m afraid now.”

He knew that he should take that little nugget and be thankful, but he was greedy for more. He told himself that he needed to know as much as he could to better protect her. It was true, but he wanted to know for himself. “Was it a man, Glory? Did a man hurt you?”

To his surprise a spark of anger flashed across her features. Her eyes hardened and she said, “I never want to see him again. The way I left…”

Her voice trailed off and Zane realized that his hands were clasped into fists on the table. He forced himself to relax them, but inside he was seething that someone had dared to hurt her.

Visibly trying to calm herself, she took a deep breath. “I’m certain that he’s very angry with me and would love to find me.”

“It’s been many years. Surely he’s moved on.” Despite his best intentions, his voice came out harsh and rough.

She shook her head. “I’m certain he’s moved on, but he hasn’t forgotten. He’ll want to be vindicated.”

He clenched his jaw to stop himself from asking her for details.

That was a line he wouldn’t cross for fear of pushing her away.

His scar ached as if to remind him that they all had things in their pasts they’d rather not talk about.

He wouldn’t ask for details, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need to know the identity of this person to help her.

Taking in a deep breath, he let it out slowly hoping it would calm the anger raging inside him, but it only seemed to stoke the flame. “What’s his name?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not telling you any more.”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened.” He held up his hands as if to say he’d surrendered. “But I do need to know who he is. If I know, then I have a better chance at finding whoever wrote that letter.”

“We don’t know if that letter is anything but a shot in the dark attempt at extortion.” She reminded him.

“We don’t,” he agreed. “But if it is, then we need to know now rather than later. I can backtrack, try to find a link between whoever opened that account and the man who hurt you.”

She was already shaking her head before he’d finished talking. “I’ll take my chances. If it’s nothing but an empty threat, then it’ll go away. If it turns out to be more than that, then we’ll face that when the time comes.”

“Dammit, Glory.” Zane rose to his feet and began pacing, trying to work out the excess energy of his frustration. “You’re so damn stubborn.”

She stood, her cheeks pink with her own anger and frustration. “This has nothing to do with me being stubborn. It’s just good sense. If I tell you who he is and you start making inquiries, then he could find me from those inquiries. He’s not a stupid man, Mr. Pierce, and he has means.”

“If he’s so smart and has the money to search for you, then he will find you. There’s no if. I need to know who he is so that I can head him off.” He already regretted raising his voice, so he tried to keep his voice even.

Her brow furrowed as she seemed to consider his words, but then she shook her head and walked away from him, her thoughts turned inward. “I’ll take the chance that this is an empty threat. Haven’t you ever heard the idiom ‘let sleeping dogs lie’?”

Of course he’d heard it, he simply didn’t think it was particularly applicable to this situation. He’d rather be prepared than wait for this unknown snake to strike. “You take that chance and you’re prey. Let me know who he is and I can find him.”

She gave a soft, humorless laugh. “You’ll find him? Find him and what then?” she asked, turning back to face him.

“I’ll find him and put an end to this.” He came to a stop in front of her, aching to touch her but keeping his hands firmly in his pockets so that he wouldn’t.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Mr. Pierce.

” She tilted her head up to meet his gaze and he noticed the tiny little sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

They were hidden under the layer of powder she wore.

He’d never been close enough to notice them, but seeing them now immediately made him wonder if she had freckles anywhere else.

“Hey, you asked me for help. I’m trying to help you, but I need you to cooperate.”

“You’re right. I hired you to help find the person who sent the letter, and to make sure that I’m safe in my home. That’s all.”

“So you’re fine with the fact that he could show up here any day and catch you by surprise?” He knew it was a low blow, but he needed her to understand how dangerous her situation was.