She had worn a traveling suit of nondescript gray wool that was, if anything in her new wardrobe could be deemed plain, ordinary enough to let her pass unnoticed through the crowds of pedestrians. Women walked by arm in arm, chattering like magpies. Amanda hurried past coaches and soldiers. She stepped cautiously around a man selling small pies off a cart and carried the scent of cooked meat with her through the iron gate and up the stairs to Wainright’s door.
It opened before she had a chance to reach for the brass knocker.
“Mrs. Tarrington.” Wainright was there himself, swinging the door wide with a mocking gallantry. “How good of you to come. And prompt too, I see. Always an excellent sign when one is considering entering into business arrangements.”
Because the sight of a well-dressed woman standing on a doorstep had the potential of drawing more attention than she desired, Amanda brushed past him and stood in the shadows of the foyer.
“I cannot imagine what possible manner of business arrangements you could be referring to, Mr. Wainright. As it happens, I was coming into Natchez today anyway and, I must confess, curiosity was the only thing that prompted me to call. Otherwise I would have advised you to address my husband, since he attends to all of our business matters.”
Wainright closed the door and smiled at her. “I doubt very much you would want him to handle this particular bit of business. But where are my manners … may I offer you a sip of wine, or a cordial perhaps?”
“No, thank you. I am in somewhat of a hurry, so if you will simply say what you have to say—”
“I prefer brandy in the afternoon,” he said, strolling past her and walking through the open door into his study. “Especially on these cool, damp days when you can never quite get the chill out of the air.”
He was out of sight before the sentence finished, and Amanda had the choice of following or standing in the empty hall like a leftover coat. She followed, not happily so, and stood on the threshold of the doorway, not taking any more steps than were absolutely necessary. Wainright was at the opposite side of the room pouring himself a glass of brandy. His smile was still firmly in place as he glanced expectantly over his shoulder.
“You’re sure you won’t join me? I have a rather nice, sweet cherry brandy you might find suitable to your … improved tastes.”
Despite her efforts at modesty, his narrowed eyes had already roved approvingly over the rich banding of velvet that circled her collar, cuffs, and hem. Her bonnet was simple, but elegant, made more so by the abundance of gold curls gathered at the nape. Her shoes were of the softest gray kid leather, as were the gloves and matching reticule.
“Your husband seems to have acquired a passion for more than fine horseflesh,” he mused appreciatively. “But then, I always said you would shine in silks and satins.”
Amanda coldly returned his stare. “What is it you want, Mr. Wainright? You seem to think we have some business to discuss, but if this is concerning the note on Rosalie, I assure you my husband will not tolerate any more demands.”
“Milked him for all you could already, have you?”
She stiffened. “I don’t have to listen to this. If you have anything more to say—”
“I’ll just say it to Montana Rose … shall I?”
She missed half a breath before retorting “Who?”
“Montana Rose. I’m sure you’ve heard the name before. Hell, there was a time, a few months back, when Natchez fairly buzzed with stories about her.” He sipped his brandy and closed the gap between them, walking a slow circle around her, not quite touching but coming close enough for her skin to prickle at his proximity. “They were starting to call her the best on the river. Said she had a sixth sense; eyes in the back of her head; lightning-quick hands, and a body to make a grown man weep.”
“I’m sure this is all very interesting, but—”
“They called her the Ice Queen,” he hissed against her ear, moving behind her again, circling, prowling. “Said she never talked, never smiled, never moved except to rake in the chips. They said she could pull an ace out of thin air and make it disappear again without batting an eyelash. All grossly exaggerated talents, I’m sure, but effective nonetheless.”
“Am I supposed to know what you are talking about? Or care?”
“You should care. And you should be damned interested to know the name and reputation of Montana Rose has, if anything, grown by leaps and bounds since her … ah, mysterious disappearance. Absence, as we are all told, does indeed make the heart grow fonder—or, as in this case, makes the rumors fly faster. Especially when someone as elusive, as enigmatic, as … extraordinary as Montana Rose simply vanishes into thin air. Much like Billy Fleet did, some twenty odd years ago.”
“You are beginning to bore me, Mr. Wainright. I don’t know anyone named Montana Rose, and I don’t know anyone named Billy Fleet.”
“Well … perhaps before you bore both of us half to death with your grand protestations, I should tell you that I have come by my information from two separate sources. One was dubious to say the least, but the other was absolutely irrefutable. They both identified you as Montana Rose, Queen of the Mississippi riverboats.”
“Maybe they were both wrong.”
“They were both right, Montana, or you wouldn’t have come here today.”
“I told you—”
“You were curious, yes. So you did. And so you are still, are you not? Curious to know what I might be tempted to do with this intriguing bit of information?”
“If you were planning to use it to blackmail me, I would warn you not to waste your breath, or your venom. My husband already knows.”
“Ahh, yes, a clever move on his part, if I do say so myself.” Wainright pursed his lips and propped an elbow on a nearby bookshelf. “To have the pleasure of his wife and his nemesis in bed with him every night? Very clever indeed. Marry thine enemy … yes. It should be the eleventh commandment.”
“What are you talking about?”
The watery eyes glinted with even more amusement. “He hasn’t told you?”
“Told me what?”
His brow cleared and he tilted his head back through a hearty laugh at her expense. “Priceless. Absolutely priceless. Holding back the trump card on the Queen of the Riverboats. Not that I can fault him for his caution. After all, you did marry him for his money, and a man in his position should indeed go to any lengths to protect his interests. I, on the other hand, can only wonder at the audacity of the man and the generosity of the Fates to have put such delicious ironies at my disposal.”
Amanda shook her head, not comprehending at all where his ramblings were coming from or leading to. “If you were hoping to use this information to blackmail Michael, you will be equally disappointed. We would both, I think, survive a little gossip about riverboat gambling. A few eyebrows might twitch and a few Daughters of the Confederacy might be scandalized into crossing to the other side of the street a time or two to avoid us, but I daresay we would survive the snubs and the whispers.”
“I daresay you could, but what about your family? Would they be so comfortable becoming the subject of barroom discussions? Would they appreciate the laughter behind their backs that would come with the knowledge of their daughter’s notoriety as the most famous whore along the riverfront? And please—” He held up his hand “Spare me the righteous indignation. Whether the illustrious Montana Rose ever tucked more than aces up her skirts or not, the idea of a woman gambling and whoring go hand in hand, don’t you think?”
“I think you are grasping at straws, sir,” she said calmly. “And I should think you would have realized by now that we Courtlands—indeed, we Southerners do not wilt as easily as all that.”
“My dear lady, I knew you would not,” he agreed. “Nor did I invite you here solely to discuss your role as Montana Rose, although it may well be in your role as Montana Rose that we arrive at an amicable arrangement.”
“I have no intentions of arriving at any arrangements wh
atsoever with you, amicable or not. As for Montana Rose, she no longer exists.”
“She has turned respectable, has she? Found herself a rich husband and decided to become domesticated?” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m truly sorry to hear that. Respectability is not an option that appeals to me overmuch.”
“It appeals to me,” she said evenly.
Wainright took another sip of his brandy and his eyes turned to slits between the coppery red lashes. “I was told you had few equals when it came to running a bluff. I should warn you I am not so easily duped or deterred.”
“And I should warn you again that the information you have, and what you plan to do with it, is of little consequence to me, so if anyone appears to be running a bluff here today, it would seem to be you.”
Wainright set his empty glass on the bookshelf. Without a word, he crossed the room and opened a narrow door built into the paneling that Amanda had not noticed.
Thinking she had prepared herself for almost anything, she was proved wrong when a small gasp left her lips as the person who had been concealed on the other side came sullenly through the doorway.
“Alisha?”
“Amanda.” The name was said as if to a stranger, delivered with a derisive toss of blonde curls.
“What are you doing here?”
“Nothing I wouldn’t rather be doing elsewhere, I assure you,” Alisha answered tartly.
Amanda stared at her twin, the shock of seeing her in Forrest Wainright’s study enough to render her temporarily at a loss. Compounding her reaction was Alisha von Helmstaad’s appearance. There was no color in her complexion aside from what had been hastily applied from pots and jars. Her clothes fit awkwardly, as if she had suddenly lost her sense of style. There were dark-blue smudges under her eyes that the thickest layer of powder could not conceal.
“What are you doing here?” Amanda asked again, her voice softened with genuine concern.
Alisha glared at Wainright. “I’m here because this rat found out about something. Something extremely personal that I had been assured was done in the strictest confidence. I had no idea the doctor was a friend of his, or that my medical problems would be spread around like cheap perfume.”
“Medical problems? Were you ill?”
Her sister laughed mirthlessly. “What a fashionably quaint way to put it. Ill. Yes, Amanda dear, I was ill And for a viciously outrageous fee, the illness was cured.”
Amanda’s hand went to her throat. “Cured …?”
“I believe the jurisprudent term would be aborted,” Wainright interjected smoothly, relishing the instant blaze of loathing that flamed in Alisha’s eyes.
Amanda turned slowly to face Wainright. The ugliness of what the word implied sent an unhealthy flush into her cheeks and made her drop her hand, unselfconsciously, from her throat to her belly.
Wainright was not particularity affected by the reaction of either woman and proceeded to elaborate as he fetched his glass from the shelf and refilled it. “It seems the baroness found herself, er, in a family way at a most inconvenient time. For a price, the inconvenience was removed.”
“And now you think you can take advantage of Alisha’s position by blackmailing her?” Amanda asked, some of her composure returning on a surge of anger.
Wainright’s smile was undaunted. “A rare opportunity, wouldn’t you agree? Something both the Sons and Daughters of the Confederacy could really sink their teeth into for a good chew.”
Amanda’s disgust rose higher in her throat. “You would do it too, wouldn’t you?”
“With the greatest of pleasure, my dear,” he assured her evenly.
Amanda looked at Alisha. “What has he asked for? How much does he want for his silence?”
“More than I could hope to get from Karl. The fat pig is a fraud. He can’t buy himself a corset without getting approval from the family back home. As it was, I had to sell some of his precious jewelry to look after my … problem. I daren’t try to sell any more or he’ll puff up like a quail and explode. Besides—” She cast a long, icy glare of loathing in Wainright’s direction. “I already paid him what he wanted from me.”
“And with such vulgar enthusiasm too, I might add,” Wainright said dryly, his lecherous grin leaving no doubt what manner of currency he had demanded. “It hardly behoves you to waste your talents on a pig like Helmstaad.”
Alisha whirled away in disgust and walked to the window, leaving Amanda to bear the brunt of Wainright’s sarcasm. “And here I thought I was complimenting her.”
“What do you want, Wainright? How much will it cost to keep your filthy mouth shut?”
“Tut, tut. What makes you think I want money?”
Her eyes narrowed and she fought another sickening wave of nausea. “Because you know you would have to kill me before you got anything else.”
He took another slow sip of brandy, his eyes holding hers over the rim of the glass. “In that case, another fifty thousand should compensate quite nicely. For the time being, anyway.”
“Fifty thousand? That’s insane. You’re insane.”
“Nevertheless, that is my price.”
“You heard Alisha, she doesn’t have that kind of money. Neither do I.”
“Neither does your husband, it might interest you to know,” he said wryly.
“Excuse me?”
“The money he spends so freely? It comes from heavy mortgaging and very high risk investments,” he explained blithely. “The small fortune he has spent on breeding stock, not to mention the grandiose gesture he made in paying off the debts on Rosalie, have pushed him to the very limit of his creditors’ patience.”
“How do you know all this?” she gasped.
“I make it my business to know everything about a man who dares to run up against me.” He paused and arched an eyebrow. “It doesn’t happen very often, you see, yet your husband has managed to outmaneuver me twice. The first time was when he bought a plum piece of land I’d had my eye on for several months; the second was on a dark, stormy night in Jamestown. The mortgages and debt load should take care of his stint as landed gentry. Since you had a hand in meting out the second insult, my dear, I think it only appropriate you should contribute your part of the restitution.”
“I don’t have fifty thousand dollars. I have no way of getting it.”
“My dear Montana, you are not thinking clearly. There is a perfectly viable way for you to earn all the money you need.”
“On the riverboats?” she gasped. “Gambling? What kind of a fool are you, Wainright? Why do you think I embarked on such an elaborate ruse in the first place? I did it to try to win the money we owed on Rosalie! I couldn’t do it. In six months, I couldn’t do it!”
“Perhaps you didn’t choose the right games.”
“Right games, wrong games … what does it matter? It would still take months to earn the kind of money you want.”
“Or you could do it in one night. In a high-stakes game with free spenders who are all there for one reason and one reason only: to walk away with the pot of gold.” He moved closer to her, his red hair glinting like fire. “I happen to know there will be such a game taking place in the next twenty-four hours. It costs ten thousand just to buy a seat at the table.”
“I don’t have ten thousand,” she said hoarsely.
“I do. And I have that much confidence in you that I’m willing to stake you.”
“What makes you think I could even get into such a game? They’re usually arranged between players who know each other and have set up these kinds of games before.”
“You underestimate the reputation of Montana Rose. Even if the game was not being played on board one of your favorite haunts—the Mississippi Queen—whose captain is, as I understand it, amiable to making any necessary arrangements in exchange for cash, I have no doubt your name alone could win you a seat in any game on any boat on the river.”
“You seem to have this all figured out, don’t you?”
&nbs
p; Wainright’s small teeth appeared in a smile. “I like to be thorough.”
“Thorough enough to know for certain I will win?”
“You’ll win. Your family’s reputation depends upon it.”
“Ownership of Rosalie depended upon it before, and I couldn’t do it.”
“You were working on your own then, with limited resources. I’m prepared to back you fully, including a little extra help in the game itself, if you need it. You have played with one of the gentlemen before—a Mr. Paul Whitney. He would not be adverse to the idea of working as a team.”
Amanda recalled the man clearly. Skeletally thin, pale, with a scar across his forehead and a lethal reaction to insults. It did not come as any great surprise that he and Wainright should know each other. It did bring a further sense of suffocation, however, as if every exit to the room were being blocked one at a time and her chances for escape were growing smaller and smaller.
“Perhaps I should leave the two of you alone for a few minutes … to talk this over in private?”
When neither twin offered a comment, he took up his brandy and strolled through to the other room, pointedly drawing the panel closed behind him.
Amanda stared at the door a moment then looked at Alisha, expecting to see at least a measure of concern, since it was her reputation being placed in the greatest jeopardy. But Alisha did not look perturbed at all. She was adjusting the cuff of lace that spilled artfully from the sleeve of her jacket, behaving as if none of this were her fault. As if this meeting were a minor annoyance to be tolerated and then forgotten … as quickly as she forgot anything and everyone else she considered to be of little or no use to Alisha Courtland von Helmstaad.
“How could you have done such a thing?” Amanda asked quietly. “How could you have let a man like Wainright get such a terrible hold on you?”
Alisha glanced up. “I didn’t exactly plan any of this, you know. I was assured of the doctor’s discretion, as well as his skill in dealing with such matters.”
“What would you know about discretion? You told Michael about Verity, didn’t you?”
Straight For The Heart Page 34