“But, of course, Eustace was always dramatic”—Sir John paused on the word and raised one eyebrow in mute criticism—“in the way he conducted his business. He always needed someone to keep him tethered to reality.” He poured steaming black coffee into a porcelain teacup so delicate it was almost translucent.
They were sitting on a secluded terrace at the back of the house, overlooking a blooming rose garden. Bees were burrowing into the deep red flowers, sounding a low, steady hum in the fragrance-filled air. Across the valley Graysie could see the pine-covered slopes of the lower Sierra Nevadas, where she’d been just the day before.
John’s servants had met her every need with invisible precision, bringing cinnamon muffins, cornbread, and molasses hotcakes in a flowing feast. The china tea service, linen serviettes, and delicious fare made it hard to remember they were in a mining town populated mainly by rough-skinned men who’d likely be breakfasting on days-old salted bully beef.
Minette’s tinkling laughter floated up from the garden below. Under the watchful eye of the groom, she was playing with a little Capuchin monkey in a blue satin jacket and black cap. It was tiny—it must be barely weaned from its mother, Graysie thought—but it seemed as delighted by the child’s presence as she was with his, scampering up her arm and over her mass of dark curls to perch on the top of her head before tripping down again.
She pushed back from the table contentedly. She’d been explaining her shock at the lawyer’s letter she’d received a few months prior. When she asked him what Eustace had been like, she was surprised at his answer, which seemed more measured than the enthusiasm he’d expressed the day before.
“Did you like him?” She looked across the table directly into his eyes. She saw them widen in surprise, and then the mask came down.
“Eustace?” He considered her question, returning her gaze. “He was very impulsive, and that sometimes got him into trouble. He had a good heart, but his enthusiasms often ran away with him. He could be persuasive though, so he often carried others along on his mad schemes.” He fixed his gaze on the silver tea service, and the tension that chased across his face told her there was more to it. She switched tack.
“This town is so small you’ve probably already heard it from somewhere else—but I want to investigate re-opening the Ophir.” This morning Sir John was in a black velvet shooting jacket and slim matching trousers with shiny black boots. She tilted her chin to emphasize her determination. “The preliminary assay reports I got from Eustace’s lawyer show there’s a good chance there is still quality gold there. Vance considered it promising.”
She paused as she thought of Vance. Sir John had reported that Nathan had gone out earlier that morning to pay his respects to his family.
Russell regarded her silently for a few seconds and then gave a dismissive laugh. “You’ve no idea what you are suggesting, my dear,” he said. “You need capital to run mines these days. And Eustace always was a dreamer. I wouldn’t put too much faith in any assay report he commissioned. Likely the prospector who wrote it told him what he wanted to hear.”
She took a deep breath. There was no doubt Sir John had a lot more mining experience than she did. But his response seemed altogether too glib. “I accept that you know a lot more about mining than I do,” she said with a submissive nod. “I wondered if there was any chance you would be willing to act as my adviser? As my godfather by proxy—wasn’t that how you described yourself last night? I’d be grateful for your expertise.”
She gave him an ironic little smile; figured it couldn’t hurt to lay claim to the relationship that he himself had suggested on the first day she ever recalled meeting him.
“Of course, I will help in any way I can,” Russell said expansively. “But really it’s a damn fool idea for a young woman to be thinking she can operate a mine. I agree with Nathan. Mining is a very dangerous business. It’s the domain of engineers. And then there are the problems with the superstitious Cornishmen. You’d be better advised to marry a mine owner than think of trying to run one yourself.”
Graysie felt heat rising up her neck. She ploughed on regardless. “I do understand it is unusual, but I don’t accept it is impossible, not if I find the right business partners. Continuing on the stage with a young child to care for, is not the life I want for Minette. I promised her mother I’d look after her like my own child, and I am not going to let her down.”
She was angry that the last part of her statement sounded more like a plea than a declaration. The last thing she wanted was to appear weak or begging.
He considered her. “You could sell the mine to someone who would be better equipped to work it. I might even be interested myself. And of course you have no need to be concerned about your present care. You are welcome to be my guest here at Gold House for as long as you need. You and the child,” he added as an afterthought.
She guessed he was only tolerating Minette because he knew she would not agree to any other arrangement.
Minette. It was a few minutes since she had seen or heard her. She half rose from her chair to survey the garden below. She couldn’t see Minette or the groom.
“Minette. Where is she?” She jerked her head towards Sir John, her breath suddenly short, her chest tight.
“I suggested to Nelson, the groom, that he take her to the stables to see the ponies,” Sir John said casually. “No cause for alarm.”
“The stables?”
He pointed away farther down into the woodland that edged the Gold House orchard. “Down through the trees. There’s a path that takes you to the stables. I’ve got several ponies there. I’m sure Nelson is perfectly capable of looking after one four-year-old on a pony. But why don’t we go and take a look?”
As they sauntered along the path in the hot late morning sun, he took her elbow and ushered her down a gentle grassy slope to the orchard and stables. She momentarily stiffened, unused to being so closely handled by any man, and especially one she had not known just twenty-four hours prior.
She debated whether she found his paternal gesture intrusive or reassuring. She didn’t really know how fathers operated. Much as she had loved her own, she’d always given him more care than he’d given her. Was he simply reassuring her she was safe, or was he making a more subtle claim?
As they neared the stables, she could hear childish squeals of delight, and they rounded the corner to see a shaggy-haired white pony snuffling at Minette’s outstretched hand, ingesting apple pieces as fast as the little girl produced them. The pony’s rubbery dark lips muzzled her flattened palm, and she could barely stand still for giggling.
“It tickles,” she said, bending over with laughter and drawing away her empty hand. Minette’s head popped up and she saw them walking into the yard just as the groom placed his hands on either side of her waist, ready to lift her into the saddle.
“Sissy! This is Starlight, and Nelson says I can go for a ride.” Her face was as bright as sunshine until her gaze fell on John Russell. The smile faded. The little hands which had eagerly reached out to Starlight tightened involuntarily into fists at her side.
“Is it alright if she sits on the pony, Miss Castellanos?” The groom had picked up on the tension sparked by their arrival and stepped back. Sir John made as if to lift Minette onto the pony himself, but as soon as his hands touched the child’s sides, she cringed away from him.
“Minette, don’t be silly darling, Sir John just wants to show you the pony.”
Minette stared at the ground, not speaking.
“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Sir John chided.
Minette raised her eyes, took one swift look into his stony face and burst into tears.
Great. The perfect houseguests. She sighed. “I think she must be still upset from the accident yesterday. She’s not her usual self,” she excused, scooping Minette up and turning to go back to the house. “She probably needs a nap.”
As they meandered back to the house, Graysie reflected on how unpredictable children could be. Minette adored Nathan Russell after just one meeting. But for some reason, even with the sweeteners of pet monkeys and shaggy-haired ponies, it was taking her a lot longer to warm to Sir John.