A Touch of Camelot (20 page)

Gwin whirled around as if he'd stung her. "No! Not first thing in the morning. Not
ever
. You can't wire the Agency. Don't you understand?"

"No. Why don't you explain it to me?"

"Your precious Agency is what got us into trouble in the first place. Who do you think was behind that last attempt on our lives? Who else knew what train we were on?"

"What are you trying to say? That someone at the Agency was in on this conspiracy?"

"It sure does look like it."

"That's preposterous."

"Not so preposterous. Think about it."

Cole eyed her thoughtfully. Oh, he knew that, from her point of view, it probably did appear that someone at the Agency was in on this mysterious conspiracy. Cole, however, knew that the idea wasn't only preposterous, it was virtually impossible.

Even though this was not what the Agency would consider a high priority or secret assignment, the general rules of protocol concerning confidential communications would nevertheless be followed. Only Fritz, his secretary, and the old man himself, Allan Pinkerton, would be privy to any of Cole's telegraphed reports. The integrity of all these people was above reproach. Cole's theory was that the Agency was being used as a conduit for information. Unless Cole informed him differently, there would be no reason for Fritz to withhold information from the client who had hired them. There, most likely, was the leak.

"All right." Cole knew it would do no good to reason with Gwin. "I’ll put off wiring the Agency for a while, but we have to find a way to support ourselves in the meantime."

Gwin picked up a walnut shell and replaced it in her reticule. "As I was saying, there are a lot of gambling halls in this town, and after dinner, we can use what stake money we have left to—"

"Wait! Hold it right there. Gambling? That's your big bright idea? Doesn't that amount to little more than leaving our fate to Lady Luck?"

"Oh, not necessarily." Gwin swept the coins on the night table into her reticule.

"No, you don't," Cole said firmly. "I'll go along with you on not wiring the Agency, but I will not abide anything dishonest. No stealing, no lying, no cheating."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Shepherd. Sometimes you're such a nitpicker. Doesn't it get tiring? Dragging that halo around with you everywhere you go?"

"No stealing, no lying, no—"

"All right, all right! I already figured you'd feel that way about it, so I came up with an idea."

"An idea?"

Gwin flashed a winsome smile. "Twenty-one."

"Twenty-one what?"

"The game. Have you ever played the game?"

"Sure I've played the game."

"Then you know that it's darn near impossible for the players to cheat, right?"

Cole smirked. "Right, but if you're not planning on cheating, Gwin, my lovely, how can you be so sure we'll come out ahead and not lose our shirts instead?"

"Oh, I just have this feeling ..." She turned slowly to focus on her little brother, who was busy prying his fingers into the opening at his collar and craning his neck.

Cole followed her gaze. A silence fell over the room and Arthur looked at them with a frown. "What? What are you two staring at? Do I look that stupid?"

"You don't look stupid at all, little brother," Gwin said sweetly.

It was then that Gwin's strategy dawned on Cole. "You mean you're going to have Arthur ...?"

Gwin crossed the room and patted her brother's arm affectionately. "Arthur, dear, you're going to learn a new game tonight. Cole and I will explain it to you over dinner."

"This will never work," Cole said. "A kid in a gambling hall? They’ll never let him play."

"But you and I will be doing the playing. Can't you see it?" Gwin's blue eyes sparkled as she warmed to her subject. She clasped her hands and crossed the room to stand before him. "It's just too perfect. We won't win every turn, of course, but if we keep our heads and play the odds, we can't lose over the long run. And it isn't cheating. Even you have to admit that, don't you?"

Cole felt himself being swayed. After all, what could it hurt to humor her?

"Well?" she prodded.

"I don't know."

"Cole, my darling, my handsome, suspicious Pinkerton man." She fingered the lapel of his coat and batted her lashes in an exaggerated fashion. "Trust me, and I'll show you a night on the town that you'll never forget. "

Chapter Sixteen

Cole stepped out onto the boardwalk and breathed in the crisp night air, a pleasant contrast to the smoke-filled gambling hall. He couldn't help smiling to himself. He had decided to trust Gwin and even he had to admit, they had done pretty well.

Arthur tugged at his sleeve. "What's taking her so long?"

"She's cashing in her chips," Cole said, "and she's got a whole lot of chips to cash in."

Unimpressed, Arthur yawned and leaned against a nearby post, his arms folded, his eyelids hovering at half-mast. Cole sympathized. It was late for a kid his age to be up.

Soon after leaving Doc Price's house, the three of them had dined at an outrageously expensive restaurant on C Street. Cole had been surprised to find himself relaxing and enjoying his meal. It was by unspoken agreement that they had left their differences outside the door. No one had mentioned San Francisco, the Agency, or the attempt on their lives.

A pair of expensively dressed men pushed through the frosted glass door of the gambling hall, and Gwin slipped out after them, appearing at Cole's side, swinging her reticule. "Ready to go?"

Cole nodded to Arthur, who appeared to be dozing. "We might have to carry him back."

Gwin poked her brother's shoulder. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to go."

Arthur's eyes opened and he straightened. "Best news I've had all night."

They ambled down the boardwalk. After a moment of companionable silence, Gwin turned to look up at Cole, her lovely blue eyes shining. "Cole Shepherd, bucking the tiger. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I wouldn't have believed it."

Cole smiled tolerantly at this teasing reference to the fact that he'd tried his hand at the faro table. "Just don't go passing it around."

"You liked it, didn't you? Admit it." Gwin stepped in front of him, stopping him in midstride. "You liked it."

"Sure I liked it. Everyone likes it when they're winning. It's when they start losing that—"

"There you go again."

"Sorry, I guess it's just my nature." Cole shoved his hands into his pockets and started forward again. "A penny saved is a penny earned and all that."

Gwin linked her arm with Cole's, matching his pace. "We made a good team tonight. Me, you, and Arthur. You have to admit that."

Cole was about to reply when he realized they had neglected to turn onto E Street. "Hey, we missed our turn."

"No, we didn't."

Cole didn't miss the sly note in her voice. "What do you mean?"

She squeezed his arm. "Don’t you think we've imposed on the Prices long enough?"

"Yes, but—"

"We've got plenty of money now."

Cole stopped. "Wait a minute."

"Hey!” Arthur complained.”What are we stopping for?"

Cole ignored him. "What are you saying?"

Gwin disengaged her arm from his. "I'm saying, we can afford to put ourselves up in a nice hotel for the night, and then..."

"And then?"

Gwin tossed up both hands, exasperated. "Oh, I don't know! Honestly, Shepherd, can't you ever do anything without planning two weeks ahead?"

"Well ... I suppose I could if there was a good reason."

"Ahhhh!" Gwin turned and headed briskly up the street.

"Wait a minute. Slow down!" Cole trotted after her, ignoring the amused glances they drew from other pedestrians. "If you want to stay in a hotel, that's fine, but shouldn't we tell the Prices?"

"I already told them."

"You already told them? Hey, wait!" Cole called out as she picked up her pace.

He came to a stop in the middle of the walk and nudged the brim of his derby back. She'd already told them? Plucky little gal, wasn't she? No surprise there. She had been raised to be plucky.

Earlier, at the restaurant, Gwin and Arthur had amused Cole with tales of their past exploits and scrapes with the law.

"Remember that time in Texas when those fellas almost strung poor Silas up?" Arthur had broached the subject around a mouthful of boiled potatoes.

"What happened?" Cole shifted his gaze across the elegant table to Gwin. Her pale blue eyes were radiant with relaxed good humor and her hair glowed a soft, burnished hue in the candlelight.

She took a sip of champagne. "They must have gotten a bad batch of hair tonic. Normally, it was harmless, but—"

"It turned their heads blue!" Arthur cut in. "Holy crow, were those fellas ever mad."

"It was more like a light shade of violet," Gwin corrected, setting her champagne glass down. "I still don’t understand what all the fuss was about. I'm sure it would have worn off in a couple days."

Cole hid a smile behind his napkin.

Gwin waved a dismissive hand. "That's no matter. We were traveling through west Texas. It was the kind of town where the marshal also happens to be the mayor as well as the judge, and whoever is leaning up against the bar that day is drafted for jury duty."

"I've heard about places like that,” Cole said. “So, how did Silas get out of that one?"

"Luckily, Emmaline and Clell saw trouble coming. Clell rode ahead to the next town to hire someone to impersonate a federal marshal."

Cole laughed. "You can't be serious."

"That big old federal marshal rode right up to the local lawman's office to inform the irate citizenry that Silas was wanted in Tarrant County on federal charges and that there was a generous reward for his return. He took down every blue-headed man's name, promised to wire the reward money, and they agreed to let Silas go."

"They actually fell for that?"

Gwin raised her champagne glass, her eyes sparkling. "The bigger the lie ..."

One story had led to another, each more outrageous than the last. Cole had laughed until his stomach ached. By the time they left the restaurant, he felt as if he'd finally gotten a glimpse of the wily Silas Pierce through the eyes of his loving children.

But now, as Cole stood watching Gwin stride down the street ahead, it wasn't Silas Pierce he was thinking about; it was Clell Martin. Tonight, Cole had studied Gwin's expressions whenever she spoke of him, and in her eyes he had seen a wrenching mixture of affection and sorrow. He also remembered Doc Price's casual inquiry about Clell on the day they had arrived in Virginia City and how Gwin had been so shaken by the mere mention of the man’s name that she’d stumbled over her own words. Cole was now certain that there had been more between those two than just friendship, and this new certainty brought with it a stab of something like jealousy.

She's your assignment, not your woman, Cole. Whether or not she and Clell Martin were lovers shouldn't matter to you.
But it did. Somehow it did, and Cole was forced to admit to himself that Guinevere Pierce had come to mean much more to him than just the personification of his first solo assignment for the Pinkerton Agency.

"Awww, what's the matter with her?" Arthur whined. "All I wanna do is go to bed!"

"Oh, you will, my boy," Cole said, starting out again after her, "and I have a feeling it’s going to be in style. Let’s go."

*

Less than thirty minutes later, Cole was lighting the gas jets of a sparkling chandelier. Gwin, who had followed Cole and Arthur into their lavish hotel room, let out a sigh. The furnishings—two four-poster beds, a dresser, a writing desk complete with hotel stationery and pens, even the elaborate hat rack behind the open door—were all made of a deep, rich walnut. The wallpaper above redwood-paneled wainscoting featured an ornate green and gold scrollwork design.

Gwin was awestruck. "It's beautiful. Just like something out of Camelot." The soles of her dainty court shoes whispered over plush carpeting as she crossed the room. She ran her fingertips over one of the downturned bedspreads.

"Hmmm, yes." Cole set the long-handled wand he had used to light the chandelier on the writing desk. "And it costs like something only a king could afford, too."

"It's worth it. Sometimes you have to live for the moment."

"If you say so. Now me, I like to plan ahead."

Even under normal circumstances, Gwin thought Cole one of the handsomest men she had ever met, but tonight he was enough to take any woman's breath away. Dressed in his crisp new suit, with a striped ascot tie cinched at his collar, and his brown derby set back at a jaunty angle on his head, Cole Shepherd cut a dashing figure.

Arthur, who was beyond caring about his surroundings as long as it included a place to sleep, scrambled up onto the bed. He started pulling off his jacket. "Gooood night!"

Gwin started for the open doorway. "It's late. I'd better go find my own room."

"Wait,” Cole said. “I'll walk you."

She acted as if she hadn't heard. Throughout the evening, Cole had been trying subtly, but persistently, to get her to talk. She had managed to stave him off until now.

"Gwin, wait a minute."

She almost made it out the door before Cole caught up to her, snagging her by the elbow and spinning her around. "I said I'll walk you to your room. Besides, there's something I want to talk to you about."

"Can't it wait until morning?"

"You've been avoiding me all night."

"Let go."

"There are things we need to discuss."

Arthur interrupted. "If you two are going to start fighting again—"

"We’re not,” Gwin said. “Go to sleep."

"Oh, yes we are," Cole said.

"Come on, Shepherd, we're all tired."

"How am I supposed to get any sleep if you two are yelling at each other?" Arthur asked.

"Don't worry,” Cole said, “you go on to bed while I make sure your sister gets to her room safe and sound." Cole took Gwin's elbow and steered her out through the open door, closing it firmly behind them.