Читать книгу Charity House Courtship - Renee Ryan - Страница 10

Chapter One

Denver, Colorado

June 1879

Laney O’Connor hesitated outside the legendary Hotel Dupree, unsure how best to proceed. Suspended in her moment of indecision, she took a slow, calming breath. The gesture did little to dispel her increasing agitation. She was, after all, about to commit a brazen act.

Could she pull this off?

Did she have any other choice?

A wave of doubt crested. With a hard swallow, she shoved the unwanted emotion into submission. This was no time for uncertainty.

Yet here she stood, motionless, hardly daring to breathe.

Lifting her gaze, she studied the ornate building in front of her. Not out of curiosity, but to gather the courage she would need to enter the most exclusive establishment in Denver and finish what she’d started this morning.

The Hotel Dupree was—as all the periodicals claimed—the most elegant building in town. Although the sun had set hours ago, modern gaslights bathed the structure in a golden, welcoming glow. Nine stories high, and boasting large, wrought iron balconies on every floor, the beautiful stone structure brought to mind beloved childhood tales where happily-ever-after always reigned.

Would Laney find her own happy ending here tonight?

Doubtful.

But she had to try. She had to forget that time had run out for her, that a shady, unscrupulous banker wanted his money in less than three days.

Three. Short. Days.

An impossible deadline.

Tears pushed at the back of her eyelids, a frightening reminder of her own helplessness, of the sharp, terrifying fear that she couldn’t raise the five hundred dollars in time.

For weeks, Laney had prayed for an answer to her dilemma. She had all but begged the Lord to reveal a solution, any solution. Silence had met her countless appeals.

Now, with the clock ticking and no one to rely on but herself, Laney had to obtain the money on her own.

In the only way she knew how.

Please, Lord, please let him show.

Squaring her shoulders, she pushed through the rotating doors and entered the hotel’s main lobby. Stepping to the side, she stabbed a cursory glance through the large room. The rich fabrics on the furniture, the expensive mahogany paneling on the walls and the polished marble floors spoke of an attention to detail Laney appreciated.

As much as she admired the beautiful décor, the tiny alcove in the far corner captured the majority of her interest. Small, private, out of the main traffic flow, the nook was a perfect spot for her clandestine meeting.

Head high, eyes cast forward, Laney made her way across the lobby. She kept her steps slow and purposeful, but not too obvious. She had to draw as little attention to herself as possible. Hard to do, considering the dress she’d borrowed for this occasion.

She prayed her choice of clothing hadn’t been a mistake. The gown wasn’t meant to entice, but rather to remind a man of his duty. And why he had that obligation in the first place.

Once nestled in the hidden alcove, Laney placed her back to the wall and waited for her quarry.

Searching faces only, a sense of foreboding slipped through her resolve. Her pulse kicked into an erratic rhythm, punching ruthlessly against her ribs. What if he doesn’t show?

No. She couldn’t give into doubt.

Her entire plan hinged on Joshua Greene’s cooperation. And his assumption that she was a woman of questionable character. Sighing past a wave of guilt, Laney shifted her position slightly, ran her gaze through the room once more, but found no one bearing the familiar mane of gray hair and ruddy features she sought.

Another adjustment to her stance and she felt her attention pulled to the left, inexplicably drawn to the most compelling pair of steel-blue eyes on a man she’d ever seen.

Their gazes locked. And held.

Why couldn’t she look away?

Stunned at her own daring, she pressed her lips tightly together. Her breathing hitched in her throat. For a terrifying instant, every rational thought receded from her mind.

Riveted into immobility, she continued staring at the handsome stranger. He stared back. Boldly, relentlessly, with a bleak expression on his face. That look, that stern, unyielding glare sent a shiver tripping along her spine.

Laney quickly broke eye contact. Something felt off about this whole situation, now more than ever. A sense of impending doom urged her to leave the hotel immediately.

She ignored the sensation, knowing she couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not without her money.

Against her better judgment, her gaze sought the handsome stranger once again.

He hadn’t moved from his earlier position.

This time, his lips curved around a fixed smile. Distrust, suspicion, they were both in his gaze.

Who was he? And what did he think she was planning to do here tonight?

Knowing how she was dressed, sensing he’d come to the absolute wrong conclusion, she nearly rushed out of the hotel.

The children, she told herself. Think of the orphans.

The reminder helped her recover the necessary courage to finish what she’d come here to do. Yanking her gaze free, Laney melted deeper into the shadows of the alcove.

She held her breath, waiting, counting the endless seconds, praying the stranger would grow tired of watching her and leave. Finally, after shooting one more look in her direction, he disappeared into the adjourning restaurant near the bank of elevators.

Instead of experiencing joy over his departure, another bout of uncertainty reared.

Again, Laney disregarded the feeling.

She could do this. She had to do this. For the abandoned children who needed the safety of the home she alone provided.

A movement at the hotel’s entrance cut through her thoughts. Joshua Greene had arrived.

Relief nearly buckled her knees, even as the well-dressed, gray-haired gentleman paused in the doorway. Laney eyed him cautiously, hopefully. Dressed in an expensive, hand-tailored suit, the cut as elegant as the man himself, Judge Greene looked every bit the distinguished Denver citizen that he was.

He glanced around the room with a caged expression on his face. Apparently, he was as unsettled by the nature of their impending transaction as Laney.

Wanting to ease his mind, she moved out into the open and flashed her brightest smile at him. He did not return the gesture. Instead, he tugged his hat over his face and set out in her direction.

Despite her impatience to be finished with this uncomfortable meeting, she waited until he was nearly upon her before speaking. “Good evening, Judge Greene.”

A brief nod was his only answer.

So, he was going to play it that way. Laney sighed. “I’m sorry we had to meet this way.” And she was. More than she could put into words.

“I, too, am sorry, Miss O’Connor.” His lips twisted into a frown. “But I suppose it’s better than the alternatives.”

It was her turn to nod in agreement. Given the unorthodox nature of their relationship, Laney could never have met him at his home, or hers. And certainly not his office in the courthouse. The Hotel Dupree provided them anonymity.

Wanting to protect his identity as best she could, Laney took his arm and pulled him into the shadows with her.

He followed willingly.

Once they were out of sight of the other hotel guests milling about, he wasted no times with pleasantries.

“Miss O’Connor.” He kept his voice low, his words barely audible over the din from the lobby. “As much as I sympathize with your predicament, you must never again contact me as you did this morning. Such recklessness goes against our original arrangement.”

The reminder slammed into her like a punch. “I had no other choice,” she whispered.

“I know, my dear.” Softening his tone, he patted her hand with a benevolent, fatherly touch. “I understand this is difficult for you. Truly, I do. If it’s any consolation, you look very much like your mother tonight. Quite beautiful, really.”

Instead of relishing the compliment, Laney’s heart filled once more with guilt.

She hated putting this man in such a precarious situation. But what else could she do? Her loan had been called in six months early. And this former “friend” of her mother’s owed Laney far more than she was asking of him tonight.

Considering the circumstances, he was getting off easy.

Keep telling yourself that.

As if wishing to finish their business as quickly as possible, he slipped a hand inside his coat then pulled out his wallet. A flick of his wrist and she was in possession of her money.

Surprised at how quickly the transaction had gone, Laney automatically curled her fingers over the large bundle and pressed it to her heart.

“Can I assume this settles our account?”

“Yes.” She gave him a firm nod. “Thank you, Judge Greene. As per our agreement, you owe me nothing more.”

“Excellent.” He turned to go, then spun back around to face her. “I know I don’t have to remind you of the necessity for secrecy, but under the circumstances, I feel I must verbalize my request so there is no misunderstanding.”

Knowing what was coming next, Laney waited silently for him to continue.

“Never reveal who gave you this money, Miss O’Connor. Or why.”

She clutched the bills tighter in her fist. “No, I won’t. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you. I trust we shall not meet again. I...” As if only just realizing what he was saying, a sad smile crossed his lips. “Take care of my boy.”

Such an easy request. “You may count on it.”

Without another word, he pivoted on his heel. This time, he didn’t turn around.

Light-headed from joy over her success, Laney slumped against the wall and sighed. She glanced after the judge’s retreating back. He moved quickly, already halfway to the bank of elevators. At least he was sticking to their plan. As agreed, he would ride to the ninth floor of the hotel, and then exit the building by way of the back stairwell.

Laney would leave the way she came, after she drank a cup of coffee in the restaurant. Twenty more minutes and she could put this whole ugly business behind her.

The thought that she’d jeopardized the reputation of the most respected judge in town left her with a mild case of regret. But then she drew on the image of the children sleeping soundly in their beds. One in particular came to mind and her conscience eased.

Regardless of what Judge Greene told himself, he hadn’t come here tonight out of altruism. Nor had he shown up to pay off the debt he owed, at half the cost. No, he’d come to ensure Laney kept his son’s parentage a secret.

He’d paid handsomely for her silence. Or so he’d thought. What he didn’t know, what Laney hadn’t reveal during their transaction, was that she would have kept his secret for free.

* * *

Now that Marc Dupree had taken over the day-to-day operations of his hotel, he no longer tolerated dishonorable behavior. Not from his employees, or his guests. After months of ensuring every member of his staff adhered to this strict policy—and a handful of tussles with unruly patrons—the Hotel Dupree was now considered the most elegant, well-run hotel this side of the Mississippi.

Marc had worked hard to earn that reputation. He would allow nothing to ruin what he’d built out of the worst possible betrayal a man could suffer. Already cautious by nature, years of running the most dangerous saloons in the West had taught him how to spot trouble before it began. Thus, the moment the stunning woman in the gold dress entered his lobby he’d known—known without a doubt—she was going to pose a problem.

The way she’d scanned the lobby with a calculating eye, searching male faces only, had told its own story. When she’d stared at him from across the room, as if daring him to call her out for some misdeed, Marc had taken it upon himself to do just that.

Once he had concrete proof. He was, after all, a fair man.

The fact that he’d been unexpectedly affected by the woman’s striking beauty made no difference. He would not abide dishonest dealings in his hotel.

No matter the circumstances.

Careful to keep outside the woman’s line of vision, he observed Judge Greene step inside the empty elevator closest to the restaurant. If Marc had been a betting man, he’d wager half his fortune that the woman would soon follow her “friend.”

Swallowing his distaste behind a sneer, Marc found himself torn between tossing the little beauty out of his hotel and waiting to see how long it would take her to make her way to the elevators.

He guessed two minutes. Perhaps three.

She proved him wrong, by lingering in the alcove a good five more minutes than he’d predicted. Marc took the opportunity to study her more closely.

She’d arranged her rich, mahogany hair loosely atop her head, with several strands cascading free at random. The tousled effect was both captivating and enthralling, a sure sign she’d taken great care with her appearance. The gold dress complemented her figure to perfection, its tight-fitting bodice cut just high enough to avoid indecency. But only just.

Marc knew better than to allow such an artful display to send his logic disappearing into another room. If his experience with Pearl LaRue had taught him anything, it was that a man could trust no woman.

This one, no matter how exquisite, was no exception.

She set out, heading straight for the bank of elevators near the restaurant. Exactly as he’d predicted.

Uncommonly disappointed in a woman he’d never met, Marc cut across the lobby in a wide arc, keeping to the left of her so she wouldn’t notice his approach. Two feet away, he reached out and caught her by the arm.

Ignoring her shocked gasp, he spun her around to face him.

For an endless moment his mind emptied of all thought. His heartbeat roared in his ears, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but the stunned woman blinking wide-eyed back at him.

Up close, her refined, delicate beauty took his breath away. In contrast with the bold cut of her dress, everything about her was soft and inviting. Her face, her figure, even her light amber eyes spoke of a kind soul and a generous heart.

Completely unexpected. Enough to render him speechless.

She stared back at him, unmoving, waiting, holding silent, as if trying to gauge his mood before making her move.

Wounded, that was the word that came to mind as he gazed into those exotic, heartbreaking eyes. Vulnerable. Desperate.

All a lie. Her kind always lied.

Marc gave his head a hard shake. “Miss,” he said past the drumming in his ears. “I would like a word with you in private.”

He felt her betraying tremble, an instant before she physically repressed the sensation and then smoothed a look of calm across her face. The alarming speed in which she regained her composure proved Marc’s earlier assessment. Only a woman with something to hide would respond with such calculated control.

“If you would be so kind as to come with me,” he added with an edge of warning in his words, “I’m sure we can avoid an unnecessary scene.”

As if coming out of a daze, she tugged on her arm, hard. “Sir, I suggest you release me before I make a scene.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Marc tightened his hold, not enough to hurt her but enough to make his point.

“Who do you think you are?” An impeccable mix of indignation and shock sounded in her voice.

Oh, she was good. She looked and sounded generally taken aback by his behavior.

But Marc had seen that very same expression on another woman’s face. The reminder was enough to harden his heart.

“My name is Marc Dupree,” he said with hard-won authority. “The owner of this hotel.”

“Well, then, Mr. Dupree.” She swept a lock of hair behind her ear with a trembling finger, the only sign of her agitation. One he would have missed had he not been watching her so closely. “I must compliment you on your fine establishment.”

She punctuated her words with a brilliant smile. The same one she’d given Joshua Greene earlier.

Marc had seen enough. He motioned to his security man, Hank, watching from across the room.

Well-versed in the need for propriety, the big man sauntered over in a casual manner.

“Hank, please escort Miss—” Marc leveled a look on the woman. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of learning your name.”

A sound of despair slipped from her lips as she fixed her eyes on the rotating doors at the other end of the lobby.

“Now, now, that wouldn’t be wise, Miss...”

She snapped her gaze back to his. “Oh, honestly, this is absurd.” Indignation masked any signs of her earlier anxiety. “My name is Laney. Laney O’Connor.”

“I trust that’s your real name.”

“Of course it’s my real name. Why would you ask such a question?”

Marc lifted a single eyebrow. “I find women like you often use a variety of names.”

“Women like me?” She frowned, as if trying to discern the meaning of his words. The moment understanding dawned, her eyes widened. “Oh...oh.” She yanked once again on her arm. “You insult me.”

He almost believed he’d offended her. Almost.

“Hank, please escort Miss O’Connor to my office.” Marc lowered his lips to her ear. “This will go much easier for you if you cooperate without a fight.”

“I...I don’t understand. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

They both knew that was a lie.

“Then you won’t mind if I take a look inside your satchel.” Giving her no opportunity to respond, he let go of her arm and commandeered the tiny bag dangling from her wrist.

Shock and fury flared in her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Ensuring that nothing unsavory occurs in my hotel.”

Gaze locked on the tiny satchel, she lunged for him.

Marc shifted to his left.

She went stumbling past. One step, two, by the third she caught her balance and swung back around to face him. “Mr. Dupree, please. You...you’ve made a terrible mistake.”

Panic sounded in every word.

Marc remained unmoved. How many times had Pearl given that very same appeal, with that precise look of distress in her eyes?

“A mistake?” He shook his head. “Not likely.”

“Please,” she whispered, her shoulders slumping forward. “You have to believe me when I say I’ve done nothing improper in your hotel.”

Yet.

The unspoken word echoed in the air between them. Marc nearly called her bluff. Except...

Her desperation appeared real.

Something in him, some hidden part he thought long dead, reconsidered confiscating the ill-gotten money and returning it to its rightful owner. Perhaps, as Miss O’Connor had claimed, Marc had misjudged the situation.

He nearly relented and gave her back her reticule without further delay. But then he remembered what he’d witnessed moments earlier. One of Denver’s most prominent citizens—a federal judge, no less—had given this woman a large sum of money. In a very secretive, clandestine manner.

Something unsavory was afoot in his hotel. And Marc needed to collect all the facts before he could act.

Of course, questioning Miss O’Connor would require privacy.

Decision made, he hitched his chin toward Hank. Needing no further instruction, the other man took her arm.

She didn’t fight this time, nor did she try to appeal to Marc’s compassion. She did, however, release a defeated sigh, as though she understood she had no other choice but to cooperate.

“Mr. Dupree.” She wrapped her dignity around her like a protective shield. “Once I have explained my actions here tonight I trust you will return my reticule.”

Marc leaned forward until their noses nearly touched. “That, Miss O’Connor, will depend completely on what you reveal.”