Of Gold & Blood Series 2 Books 1 & 4

by Jenny Wheeler

  He felt a low laugh bubbling up from deep within him. Suddenly this promised to be a lot more fun. He felt an itching sensation in his groin and had to suppress the urge to scratch himself. He’d have an excuse to take the little princess down into the dark. He licked his lips in anticipation.

  “I’ll leave you to work out the details. Just don’t let me down…”

  Again hung in the air but was left unsaid.

  There was a shout from the track and both men turned to see what was happening. The horses came thundering around the circular arena. Stride for stride, there seemed nothing to separate them. As they passed de Vile in a shower of dust, he raised his hand exultantly in salute at their neck in neck charge.

  Then in the last quarter, the black gelding shied as a hare broke cover from long grass lining the track and sprang into their line of sight. The sable surged unchecked and won by a neck.

  De Vile turned to Martens, lips pressed together in a slight grimace. “Hope you’ve got better judgment with woman than with horses,” he said with a sniff as he turned to go.

  Thirty One

  Graysie was sitting with Minette on the veranda having scones and tea when she heard the squeak of coach wheels and she knew John Russell had returned. Her stomach gripped at the prospect of confronting him, but she also knew she could not just turn tail and run, although she wanted to. She owed him an explanation and her thanks.

  The servants had already loaded their two trunks and leather carry-alls onto the wagon which was drawn up at the gate. She was certain he would not have missed that detail as he arrived. His scowl as he came up the front path proved it. He strolled up the steps and stood directly in front of her.

  “Miss Castellanos.” He gave a little mock grin, as if to show he was playing, but a muscle pulsed under his left eye, like a warning light flicking on and off. Funny. She’d never noticed the nervous tic before.

  “We’ve seen very little of you recently. I was beginning to wonder if we’d offended you.”

  Graysie rose with a quick gasp. “Sir John. You’ve been wonderful. I’m sorry for my absence. It’s been… unavoidable.” She turned and paced a few steps. “Your hospitality really has been unrivalled…”

  She saw that his face remained stony. “I just feel we can’t continue to take advantage of your kindness…” Her voice trailed off and she stood, hands hanging at her sides, for a few seconds before resuming her seat. Nothing for it but to charge on, she thought. Delay would only make things worse.

  “This morning I called on the Sisters of Mercy, and they have kindly offered me a position teaching singing at their school.” Again she was aware of her sentence trailing off, sounding like an apology.

  John’s eyes were flinty. “I see. So you have chosen to make alternative arrangements.”

  Graysie detected the treacherous undercurrents: You have chosen to reject me.

  Minette fidgeted in her chair. Once again the child was picking up on the rising tension without understanding its cause.

  She turned to Minette. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go and help Mrs. Snively knead the dough while Sir John and I have a little talk?”

  Minette rose, gave a dip of her head towards Sir John and skipped off towards the kitchen. Graysie turned back to the magnate.

  “Sir John, I have had a wonderful stay. You rescued us when we were in desperate need! But I cannot continue to accept help from you when I have nothing to offer in return.”

  As soon as the words were out she knew she’d been clumsy. When she glanced up she saw she’d lit a rage that John had, until now, managed to conceal. “Nothing to offer? You’ve forgotten that I indicated there could be a future for you here at Gold House?”

  His jaw set in a hard line, and then, just as suddenly as his rage had bubbled up, it died, replaced by an icy detachment.

  “Quite frankly, Miss Castellanos, I question your sanity. Why you would reject a comfortable future here for both you and that child to scratch away in poverty with the nuns, I can’t fathom.”

  She sensed he was beyond the reach of her logic and any answer might provoke him further.

  “Sir John, I have to be certain Minette is safe. I am feeling unnerved by these bizarre attacks and Willie’s serious injury is the final straw. I blame myself. I want to be there to do anything I can to help him get well again. And I’m worried about people close to me being attacked. I just couldn’t stand it if anyone else got hurt.”

  “And you think the nuns can protect you better than I can?” He snorted. “That really is a joke.” He strolled to the balustrade and stared out into the garden, silent for a minute or two, while she held her breath and willed herself not to jump in with nervous explanations. Then he spun back to face her. “Has it ever occurred to you that you might be the problem?”

  “Me?” Graysie felt a sharp cramping sensation deep in her gut and wondered for a moment if she was going to faint. Then it passed and she was aware her heart was racing.

  “I don’t know what you mean. What are you hinting at?”

  He skewered her with his cool stare. “You somehow persuaded Eustace to leave you that mine, God knows how. We’d been lifelong partners, yet he didn’t ever mention it to me. He left it to you—someone I understand he barely knew and hasn’t seen since the night your mother died.”

  Graysie felt chilled to her core. “The night mother died? Was Eustace there? I don’t remember…”

  The flicker in his eyes hinted that he’d said more than he intended. He took a deep breath. “There is a very great deal you don’t know, Miss Castellanos. And I’ll be the very last person you’ll hear it from. Now if you are determined to go to the nuns, you’d better do it. Off you go.” He fluttered his hand dismissively, like he’d just remembered far more important things that required his attention.

  She shot him one last apologetic look, then fled for the kitchen. She could hear the peal of Minette’s laughter in the hall. At least she was having fun. She opened the kitchen door and stopped abruptly. Minette was standing at the kitchen table with a tea towel tied around her front, holding a knife dripping with vanilla cream over a tube-shaped pound cake. Minette’s favorite, and Mrs. S knew it.

  Minette had a dab of cream on her chin. Mrs. Snively was up to her elbows in hot water at the sink, and Minette was applying the thick frosting under Nathan’s watchful eye. From the doorway she watched as he dabbed her chin with his handkerchief while Minette giggled. He sensed Graysie’s presence and his head jerked to where she stood watching them.

  She gave him a brief nod and fixed her gaze on the child. “Come on, sweetie, finish up there now, we have to leave.” Graysie paused and turned to the housekeeper. “I hope she hasn’t been a nuisance, Mrs. Snively.”

  “She’s been a total pet as always,” Mrs. Snively said, wiping her wet hands on her apron. “The cake is pretty well finished, poppet. You’ll have to come back and have a piece later when the cream topping has set.”

  Minette stuck her bottom lip out as if to dispute her directions, but Nathan jumped in. “Come on, princess! Off to new adventures!” He untied the tea towel, gave her cheeks a cursory wipe, and turned her to face Graysie. “Where are you off to, if I may be so bold to ask?”

  Graysie steeled herself to reply. “Actually, we’re moving to the Sisters of Mercy today. You always thought that would be more suitable for us, as I recall. I’ve come to agree.”

  Mrs. Snively gave a yelp of protest. Nathan stared. Graysie took Minette by the hand.

  “Come on, baby girl, we’ve got to get moving. We’ll come and visit Mrs. Snively another time.”

  Thirty Two

  Nathan Russell swung the big boar carcass onto Anna Santa Maria’s kitchen table. It landed with a satisfying thump. “There you are. That will keep you going in pork and beans for a little while.”

  The sack of beans leaned against the table leg, full and round.

  Anna had aged since he had last seen her. Had it really been just ten days since
Vance was killed? Her cheeks were dark hollows and her collapsed shoulders signaled distress, but the kitchen smelt of welcoming food. A line of red chilis was drying overhead, and on the stove a bubbling stew filled the air with the fragrance of garlic and gravy. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

  “Anna, it’s probably pointless to ask, it’s self-evident that things will be difficult. But how are you making out? We’ve got to start somewhere.”

  “Do we?” Anna might be a woman beaten down by life, but Nathan heard the steel in her voice. Okay. Try again. This family deserves help and I can sacrifice a little dignity to do it.

  “Anna, I want to help. I know it must be hard…”

  “Hard? You don’t know how hard.” She glared at him but didn’t make any attempt to elaborate.

  He stared back, saying nothing, in a stalemate of silence. He could hear the twins playing in the room next door, little riffs of giggles and playfulness penetrating the thick adobe walls. He noticed freshly washed greens lying on the bench.

  Maria’s sense of loss was raw, but the home had a feeling of stability, of provision, that reassured him. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited sooner. How is Antonio doing?”

  At the sound of Antonio’s name Anna flinched, as if she’d been hit across the shoulders with a lump of wood.

  “Antonio?” she echoed. “Something terrible has happened to Antonio. He’s having nightmares, but he won’t say what they’re about. He keeps trying to pretend it’s nothing.”

  Antonio wasn’t saying, and neither was she. Nathan could tell by the way she evaded his gaze and crossed her arms in front of her chest that there were things that she too was hiding.

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. He spends a lot of time at the stables. When he’s not there, he disappears. He’s rarely here.”

  “Like he’s frightened of something.” Nathan was certain of it, even before her confirmation.

  She nodded. “Like he is frightened. We are all frightened.”

  She paused, as if considering whether to say more, but seemed to think better of it. “You’ve no idea.”

  He sighed. “No, I don’t, Anna. You’re right. And the only way I can understand is if you explain a bit more about what’s going on.”

  She shook her head vigorously and dashed a hand across the corner of her eye. He saw it was wet with tears.

  “Look, I am very grateful for the food. Don’t think I am not. Thank you for remembering us, from the bottom of my heart. But we are safest if we keep to ourselves. It’s dangerous if we’re seen talking to people.”

  “Seen? Who is there to see you?”

  “It doesn’t matter who. Take my word for it.”

  He shook his head in frustration. “You can’t handle this—whatever it is—on your own. You’re caring for six children alone! It’s not reasonable to deal with more.”

  She stared, hands on hips. “Reasonable, maybe not. But life isn’t reasonable. Do you dispute that? Comprendes?”

  A picture of Charlotte, curled up in a big chair, her knees tucked up under her skirt as she smiled contentedly, flashed before him. She had so loved being a mother.

  “No, Anna. No, I wouldn’t dispute that. Life isn’t reasonable or fair. But that doesn’t mean we have to do it alone.”

  The conversation had reached another dead end, but the atmosphere was more mellow and accepting than when he’d first arrived. Anna’s anger had dissipated, replaced by a sense of fatality.

  They sat like that for several minutes. Anna had just roused herself to offer him a coffee when he heard the tripping of little bare feet across the wooden floorboards. The young children were running to the front door. They had divined a visitor arriving and were lined up, looking fit to explode with excitement when the door opened.

  “An-to-nio, An-to-nio,” they chanted in sing-song unison. And again, savoring the delight of it. “An-to-nio.”

  Anna shot Nathan a quick look and put her index finger up to her lips. She didn’t have to say a word, her gesture conveyed all he needed to know. If Antonio sensed he was there, he’d disappear again.

  The little girls had each taken one of his hands, so delighted to have their cousin who was more-like-a-brother home they didn’t want him to escape their clutches. They danced alongside him as he came into the kitchen, shoulders hunched, his face pale and drawn.

  When he saw Nathan he froze and attempted to whirl away, but the little sisters held on, blocking his exit. Nathan stepped forward quickly and gently took him by the shoulders. “Take it easy, Antonio. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve brought some food and something else for you if you want it.”

  He flashed a half apologetic look at Anna. “That’s if it’s alright with your mother… I’ve brought you a dog, if you want him. You can keep him for as long as you like.”

  A flicker of distrust flashed across Antonio’s face, but his eyes lit up with an excitement he couldn’t hide. He stared at Nathan, and his boyish voice faltered. “A dog? A real dog?” He was having difficulty believing the words. “What sort of dog?”

  “A French hound called Vulcan. He’s a great fellow. Belongs to my brother, but he has given him to me because we get on so well. I’m sure he’ll be your friend too.”

  A slow smile displaced the wariness. Antonio went and stood by Anna and put his arms around her waist. “Mama, can we keep another dog? Can we?” His arms dropped to his sides, and he bounced up and down on his toes as he waited for her reply.

  Anna smiled at Nathan. “Looks like you’ve hit the jackpot with Antonio. When can we meet this dog? We can’t decide until we see if he likes us and we like him.”

  Thirty minutes later they were all sitting around the table sharing the delicious stew while Vulcan lay contentedly snoring at Antonio’s feet. Boy and dog had bonded at first sight, as Nathan had hoped they would, and already Antonio’s careworn frown was fading.

  “Can we go and get some food for him?” he suddenly asked as they finished eating. “What does he like to eat?”

  “Much the same as Neptune did, I’m sure,” Nathan said. “Meat, bones, leftovers.” Nathan looked from Antonio to Anna. “He’s a good guard dog. It might help you feel a little safer to have him here.”

  Antonio’s eyes narrowed. “Would he attack someone if you wanted him to?”

  “If he thought you were in danger, yes he would. Is there someone you’re afraid of?”

  Antonio shrugged and his gaze dropped to the floor. “Just wondering. No reason.”

  “Are you scared that whoever hurt Neptune might come back?”

  Antonio shook his head vigorously, but he’d gone white and he was restlessly flexing his fingers.

  Nathan turned to Anna. “Do you need better locks here? I’m happy to organize something for you. But if someone broke in, what would they be looking for?”

  Anna shook her head a little too quickly and her words tumbled out in a rush. “No, no, there’s nothing here for anyone to find. They’ve already searched …” She stopped mid-sentence. “I mean, if they searched . well if they did, they wouldn’t find anything.”

  Her response was measured and careful, and Nathan didn’t believe a word of it.

  Antonio was staring at a spot on the floor. Vulcan’s sides rose and fell in rhythm with his soporific breathing. A couple of flies buzzed around his head, and he occasionally flicked an ear in his sleep to ward them off.

  They were both lying. He knew it. But why?

  “Anna, if someone has threatened you, the surest way to protect yourself is to tell me. We can’t help if we don’t know. Vulcan will discourage them, but the very best safeguard is to be fully prepared if they try anything again. To do that we have to know what we’re preparing for.”

  Antonio squinted up at his mother, as if trying to anticipate her response. Then he cleared his throat awkwardly and hesitated. “Is Willie dead?” he asked in a tremulous voice.

  The sudden change of topic startled Nat
han. “Willie? Willie Watson? Did you know Willie?”

  Anna stepped forward and slipped her arm around Antonio’s shoulders, drawing him into shelter like a mother settling her chick. “Willie and Vance sometimes worked together, that’s all. Antonio went visiting with him sometimes, that’s all. He liked Willie’s dog.”

  Nathan suspected there was far more to it than that. Antonio’s hands were trembling. He reminded Nathan of a bird poised to take flight. Something about the attack on Willie had deeply upset him.

  And then like a bolt from heaven, or a wild guess, he wasn’t sure which, he felt a certainty in the pit of his stomach. Antonio had been there. He had witnessed the attack. The boy was cringing into Anna’s embrace, and as Nathan searched his face he saw what he’d missed until now. Guilt. For some reason, Antonio felt guilty. He turned the full force of his attention to the woman who shielded him.

  “Anna, we have to put a stop to this right now. Don’t you see? The boy feels responsible. And, goodness knows, whatever has gone on here, it’s not Antonio’s fault. There was a ruffian dead up there. The house gutted. Antonio didn’t do that.”

  The boy gave a low wail. “Nooooo, you don’t understand…”

  The cry woke Vulcan, who shook himself and pushed forward so his nose was pressed against Antonio’s leg. The boy calmed instantly and patted Vulcan’s head. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice cracking.

  “Then tell me. I’ve got all day.”

  Anna caressed the back of Antonio’s neck and stared back at him. The boy’s face was blank with terror, and it suddenly struck Nathan that he’d been so traumatized by whatever had happened that he’d tried to block out the memory. They stood locked in desolation, and then Anna gently propelled Antonio back to a chair by the table and sat down beside him.

  “He’s right, mi querido. We can’t go on like this, living in fear. We can’t do it. We have to be brave and tell the truth. Or as much as you can remember.”