Gold (33 page)

“
How well they’d like your singing has nothing
to do with it.” Rhynne sighed, looking at Selena’s
determined face. He’d put off talking to her,
knowing she wouldn’t accept what he had to say.

“
At least you could let me try.”

“
Selena, I’m going to take you somewhere. But first you have to promise me you’ll never tell your
mother.”

“
Not tell Pamela? Where on earth are we
going?”

“
Promise me, Selena.”

“
But why?”

“
Because I value your mother’s friendship. I’d
never do anything to hurt her and if she finds out
where I’ve taken you she’ll be very upset. Does
that satisfy you?”

“
You’re in love with my mother, aren’t you?”
Selena asked shrewdly.

“
My dear girl, I expected you to become wiser
with age but there’s such a thing as being too
smart for your own good. Now, will you
promise?”

“
All right, W.W., I give you my word I won’t tell Pamela. Now, where are we going?”

“
You’ll see.”

W.W. escorted Selena from the Golden Empire
by a side door. In the street men stared after her
as he assisted her into his carriage. As the horses
pulled them away from downtown, he commented
on the new buildings, on the results of the latest
fire, saying not a word about their destination.

At last the coachman halted the horses in front
of a large well-appointed house standing apart
from its neighbors with an iron fence surrounding
the grounds.

“
Have you bought yourself a new home?” she
asked.

“
In a way.” Rhynne helped her down and
offered his arm. They walked slowly through the
open gates and up a brick walkway to the entry porch. Rhynne pulled a cord and she heard bells tinkle inside the house.

A large man dressed like an English butler
opened the door. Selena had to remind herself not to stare. This, in San Francisco?

“Good day, Mr. Rhynne,” the man said. “Nice
to see you, sir.”

“
Hello, Talbot. Would you tell Madam Tussey
I’ve brought a guest? Perhaps she should receive
us in her private quarters.”

“
Of course, sir. May I take your hat?”
Selena and W.W. followed Talbot along a short
hall and through a door into a small sitting room.

“
I’ll tell Madame you’re here,” Talbot said,
bowing. He left the room.

“
My curiosity has reached the bursting point,”
Selena warned Rhynne.

Moments later a well-corseted middle-aged
woman with impossibly red hair entered and
smiled at Rhynne, then looked appraisingly at
Selena. “A real beauty!” she exclaimed.

Rhynne frowned and shook his head.

The woman raised her eyebrows, then nodded.
“Private property, right?”

“
I’d like to show my friend around the premises,” he told her.

“
Whatever you say, W.W. The place, after all,
is yours. Nice to meet you, Miss . . . ?”

“
Jones,” Rhynne said hastily. “Her name is
Jones.”

“
Miss Jones. If you ever need work, just re
member you’re more than welcome here any
time.”

“
Thank you,” Selena said faintly as Rhynne
took her elbow to lead her from the room.
“Wasn’t Madam Tussey wearing an extreme
amount of rouge?” she whispered to him. “And
her hair!”

“
It’s mandatory. Like aprons on maids.”

“
Oh.”

They passed through a large room, somewhat
like a parlor, with a rosewood piano at the far
end. Selena caught her breath when she saw the
nude depicted on the gilt-framed canvas above
the fireplace mantel. Surely what the woman was
doing was, well, too private to be the subject of
a painting. Her face flamed.

She thought she heard W.W. chuckle but when
she glanced sideways he was smoothing his mus
tache. He led her through an archway toward a
wide curving staircase. Two women looked down
from the upstairs hall and as they began to climb
the steps

Selena saw both of them had on trans
parent robes with nothing underneath.

“
It’s Mr. Rhynne,” one said.

“
Yeah but who’s she?” the other responded.

“
Alice”, Rhynne said, approaching them. “And
Theresa, isn’t it? I’m showing Miss Jones through.
She’d like to see one of the rooms. One of the
unoccupied rooms.”

Both
of the women looked her up and down. Selena tried desperately not to stare at their bod
ies, which were so suggestively revealed. Alice turned away and threw open a door at the top of the steps. Selena stopped in the doorway.

Inside was an ornate brass bed cover with crimson
velvet. On a wall hung another oil, this one of a man and woman. Selena looked away immediately. She had no idea such paintings existed. The ceiling above the bed reflected the room and she realized with astonishment a mirror had somehow been mounted there. She looked at W.W. with dawning realization.

“
I believe Miss Jones has seen enough. Thank you, girls.” Rynne nodded politely and steered her down the stairs.

She held her words until they were back in the carriage.
“That
was a—a house of ill repute, wasn’t it?”

“
A whorehouse, yes,” he said bluntly. “I own
it.”

She stared at him,

“Oh, come, Selena, you’ve heard my name
connected with such places before. It turns a
decent profit and I make sure the girls are well taken care of and that they all want to be where
they are. I’m no white slaver.”

“
But why did you bring me there?”

“
Because that’s where you’ll wind up if you
start singing at the Golden Empire. Not only my
‘pretty waitress girls’ are expected to satisfy the
customers—the entertainers are too. It’s part of an unspoken contract. The customers expect it and won’t patronize you if you don’t provide it.
In Hangtown, things were different. There you
could sing and the men were satisfied to dream
about you. Not in San Francisco. Here they ex
pect to be able to have you. Is that what you
want, Selena? For any man who’s taken with you
to think he has the right to have you?”

She shuddered.
“No! You know I’d never per
mit such a thing!”

“
Pamela has made a great deal of money.
You’ll qualify for what passes for society in this
town. You’ll be desired by every man who sees
you in whatever circles you move in, but at least
you’ll have the right to pick and choose. One or
none, as the fancy takes you.”

“
I’m sorry you had to be exposed to Madam Tussey’s, but I felt you had to be shocked into
accepting the fact that you can’t possibly sing in
a public place in San Francisco.”

Selena swallowed.
“She—Madam Tussey of
fered me work!”

Rhynne grinned at her.
“Well, why not? To
her way of thinking it was a compliment to your
attractiveness. All her girls are pretty.”

She stared at him, then reluctantly began to
smile, finally laughing out loud. “Oh, W.W.,”
she said. “There isn’t another man like you in the whole world.”

When Pamela sneezed, Selena jerked out of
her reverie. She turned from the mirror to look
at her mother. “You aren’t getting another cold?”

“
No, it’s nothing.”

“
Mother, are you still friendly with King Sutton?”

“
Friendly? I see him occasionally—why do
you ask?”

“
Oh, I don’t know. I thought once maybe you
and W.W. would marry.”

“
We’re friends, Selena.”

“
Yes, of course.”

“
Don’t be late tonight; you need your beauty
sleep. We’ve yet to find you a husband who suits
your fancy.” Pamela yawned. “I’m retiring early,
I have an appointment with Robert Gowdy to
morrow, plus some other business errands to see
to.”

“
If you wish me to continue to act as your
agent, I shall, of course, do so,” Robert Gowdy
said.

Pamela thought he sounded more like a great
sulky boy than anything else. All because she had
made this unlikely sum of money without taking his advice. She still had trouble believing how
wealthy she actually was.

The hidden reason for Robert
’s dissatisfaction
was that he suspected she listened to W.W.’s ad
vice and not his. Which she did. But Robert
would never be able to understand that she her
self had a good head for business. In that way
he was like her late husband. On the other hand, W.W. gave credit where credit was due.

Why then did she continue to see King Sutton?
She no longer really loved him, indeed no longer
respected him. Perhaps because he had no one
else. Pamela sighed and gave her attention once
more to Robert Gowdy who, whatever he felt
about her, was an excellent agent and well worth
the percentage she paid him.

“
I’ve warned you before about your association
with a known criminal, Lady Pamela,” he said.
“I should hate to think you’d give the Committee
any reason to investigate you.”

“
Are you threatening me, Robert?”

“
I’m not the threat, as you well know. I have
it on good authority that they’ve imported a man
to run Mr. Wordsworth Rhynne out of town. A
former army captain, a man we both know—
Barry Fitzpatrick.”

Pamela smiled calmly, despite the sudden lurch
of her heart. “And you expect me to be afraid
of him? Come, Robert, you’ll have to produce a
more fearsome adversary than Barry.”

“
He’s fought in a war, Lady Pamela. And he’s
been a Texas Ranger. He’s not a man you can
twist around your finger.”

She shrugged.
“We’ll see. Meanwhile, you may tell Mr. Horton that his offer on the lot on Freemont Street is so low as to be an insult. And thank you again for your efforts on my behalf. She rose and reached out her hand to him, smiling.

“
You believe yourself unappreciated, but you’re wrong,” she told him.

Robert Gowdy held her hand a moment longer than
necessary. He hated to let her go. Although he’d finally married and although he did love his wife, there would never be another woman like Lady Pamela.

Outside once again, Pamela raised her umbrella against the rain and turned toward the bay. She could have kept her carriage waiting, but then her driver would have known her next destination and
she preferred he didn’t. Charlie Sung’s place was only a few blocks from the shipping offices.

She always took care to wear a widow
’s black when she ventured there. Whether that was the reason or not, this part of San Francisco had become more and more shabby these last two years, she had yet to be accosted.

Still, she glanced from the corners of her eyes at some of the passing rowdies and thought she
’d not like to be on these streets after dark.

“
Oh! The exclamation burst from her as a hand fastened on her arm. She whirled.

“
Pamela, what a surprise to find you headed in my direction,” W.W. said.

“
I meant to.”

“
Were you deliberately following me?”