Gold (4 page)

“
Oh, Selena, even women don’t always know
what they want. Many go their entire lives without knowing.”

Selena frowned, not completely believing her.
“Imagine,” she said, “he wanted me to have
twelve children.”

“
Twelve!” Her mother stroked Selena’s hair.

“‘
A proper wife of a Spanish ranchero has
twelve children, six boys and six girls.’ When I
heard that, I knew I couldn’t marry Diego no mat
ter how he made me feel. So I took one of his
horses and rode home.”

“
You still have his horse?”

“
I woke the boy at the livery stable and left the
horse there.”

“
I’ll see he’s returned tomorrow.”

“
Diego will come for me, I know he will. He’ll
be simply furious when he finds me gone.”

“
He won’t come here, Selena. His pride won’t
let him.”

“
I didn’t care so much about changing my reli
gion or seeing the bear fight the bull or watching him pull the heads off the cocks. I guess I wasn’t
telling the truth about that. I didn’t care if he had
lost all his money, either. It was the idea of those
twelve babies. Having them. I couldn’t, I just
couldn’t.”

Pamela frowned. “Diego lost his money? I assumed the de la Torres were wealthy.”

“
They were once but Diego’s sister Esperanza told me they had to sell the ranch and move to
Monterey to live with their uncle. She said if
Diego married me, though, they wouldn’t have to
leave because we had money and a great estate in
England. Now what could have led them to believe that?”

“
I’m sure I don’t know,” Pamela said absently.
“If you think for one minute I misled him, you’re
mistaken.” She settled back with her arm nestling
Selena’s head. “Now go to sleep,” she said. “Ev
erything will be all right in the morning.”

Pamela rose early, dressing quietly so as not to rouse the sleeping Selena. Nevertheless she chose
her costume with care. Black, of course. The traditional year of mourning for Lord Lester Buttle-
Jones was up long ago but considering what Pamela had to do it was well to emphasize the fact she
was a widow. Even if Robert Gowdy had been on
the wagon train he couldn’t actually know how
she’d really felt about Lester’s death in the ava
lanche.

The French silk, then, with its form-fitting
bodice and full skirt thrust out by a small crino
line. Before Pamela drew the black veil over her
face she hesitated. Perhaps just one spoonful of
medicine? She reached into her bag, then shook
her head. It would make her feel better, of course,
but she needed every ounce of wit she possessed
and the medicine had the tendency to relax her so
there was the danger she might be caught off
guard.

Afterwards, she promised herself. I
’ll wait until
after my interview with Mr. Gowdy. Now that it
was clear Diego de la Torre was penniless, she
must set her other plan in motion.

“
Never forget a back-up load,” her father had
reiterated when teaching her to shoot in those
long-ago days in the English countryside. “A care
ful marksman remembers the need for a second
shot.” The Americans put it somewhat differently,
borrowing a phrase from the red Indians—a sec
ond string for one’s bow. But the idea was the
same. Perhaps even Robin Hood had it.
Pamela shook her head. Her wits were wander
ing. She had no time to waste on vagaries.

Later that morning, she was shooting her arrow in Robert
Gowdy’s office.

“
Impossible, Lady Pamela!” Gowdy leaned
across his desk toward her. “What you suggest
is absolute madness.”

Pamela smiled.
“Not ‘lady.’ Pamela will do. Do
you remember Barry Fitzpatrick pointing out that
the United States constitution forbids the use of
titles? I thought him quite eloquent.”

Gowdy scowled.
“The constitution applies only
to Americans. We’re English, you and I. Or do
you intend to become a citizen?”

“
Certainly not. England’s my home and always
will be. When I have enough money to return, I shall. But I’ll never go home with . . . how do the
Americans say it?”

“
With one’s tail between one’s legs, I suppose
you mean.”

“
Most inelegant, yet highly accurate. I promise
you I shan’t go back to England with—well, in
that condition.”

“
Lady Pamela, you’re employing diversionary tactics again. Believe me, I’m fully aware of our
common bond of country. But to give you five
thousand dollars . . .”

“
Not give. I asked you to advance me five thou
sand dollars, using my diamond earrings as col
lateral.”

“
And with that money,” Gowdy went on, “you
propose to travel to Sutter’s Fort and on to the
gold camps where you intend to establish a com
mercial enterprise of some sort.”

“
Not ‘of some sort.’ I’ll sell flour, salt, pork,
clothing, pistols, pickaxes, shovels, pans, and
whatever else the miners need. Sam Brannan has
more trade than he can take care of at Sutter’s;
I’ll do even better at one of the mining sites.
At
Coloma or Ophir or Hangtown.”

“
There’s a considerable difference between you
and Sam Brannan.”

“
I admit he’s had vastly more mercantile expe
rience in California. I have determination.”

“
The difference I referred to is more funda
mental. He’s a man and you’re a woman. And a
lady, besides.”

“
I’m sure the miners would rather deal with a
woman than a man.”

Gowdy took a cigar from a humidor on his
desk. “With your permission?”

Pamela nodded.

“To be blunt,” he said, “they would rather deal with women, but not in the manner you suggest.
And I’m afraid they have no conception of what
a lady is. You don’t realize what kind of men
these are. They’re the remnants of the regiment
Stevenson recruited from the scum of New York City to fight the Mexicans. They’re sharpers, gamblers, drunks, adventurers of every variety, China
men, Kanakas, Mexicans, Sydney Ducks.”

“
Sydney Ducks? And what are they?”

“
Convicts shipped to Australia by our country
men. California is a golden magnet drawing every
unattached ne’er-do-well in the world.”

“
You’re exaggerating, Mr. Gowdy.”

He shook
his head. “Besides being in a place
with twenty men for every woman, you’ll have the
elements to contend with. The snow in the moun
tains, the winter rains.”

“
These Sierra Nevadas can’t compare to the
desert we crossed,” Pamela said. She raised the
veil from her face and pinned it to her hat with a jet pin. “My face became so burned I looked like
a red Indian. Look at me. Even now I’ve not re
gained a decent paleness.”

“
Lady Pamela, you’re the loveliest woman I’ve
ever seen. And the most obstinate.”

“
If you’re unable to advance me the money, I
shall understand,” Pamela said, glancing about
the office. “I assumed you had the means, but per
haps this position as ship’s agent is not. . .” She
paused.

“
Damn it all, I have the money,” Gowdy
growled. “How you do obscure a point! Haven’t
you heard the tales of Mexican women captured
by the Indians?”

“
Are you referring to the Digger Indians?” She
raised her eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware their men
were warriors.”

“
There are thousands of Indians in these moun
tains.” He jabbed his cigar at her, sending unread
able smoke signals curling toward the ceiling.
“And you can’t trust one of them. They may prove
to be even more dangerous than the Sioux or the
Arapaho. On the way west we merely crossed In
dian lands. Here in the California Territory
they’re being forced from their very homes. Even
a savage fights for what he believes is his.”

“
Mr. Gowdy, you know better than to try to
frighten me with stories of marauding Indians.”

“
I’m not attempting to frighten you, Lady Pam
ela. Only to warn you. To stop you from making
a grievous mistake.” He placed his cigar on a tray
and leaned forward to put his hand over hers. “Because I have deep feelings for you, Lady Pam
ela.
I realize you think of me as a tradesman, but
say the word and I’ll be your devoted servant for the rest of my life.”

Pamela eased her hand from beneath his.
“You
forget I’m still in mourning,” she said.

“
For a scoundrel who didn’t deserve you,”
Gowdy muttered. “And, damn it, it’s been a time
now.”

“
I’d rather we didn’t discuss Lord Lester.”

Gowdy inclined his head.
“Of course. Not the
thing to speak ill of the dead, true though it may be. But I am concerned about your future. If you
were my wife, you’d have no need to ask for
money. I have enough and more. And none of it
tainted. I’ll build you a house on one of the hills
above Portsmouth Square. I’ll buy you fine clothes
and an elegant rig. Though there’s no society as
such in San Francisco, there will be.” He paused, then added with quiet emphasis, “I could provide
Selena with a proper upbringing.”

“
Do you mean I haven’t?” Her words lashed
out at him as she jumped to her feet.

“
No, no, no,” Gowdy protested, also rising.
“You’ve moved mountains as it is. Certainly Lord--
the poor child has suffered enough. But
how can you expect to look after Selena and work
to provide for her as well—you, a woman alone here?”

Pamela sighed.
“You’re right, of course. This
isn’t the best place for Selena. She doesn’t belong
in this raw, raucous town on the edge of no
where. In London she would have been properly
launched by now, even well married.”
Pamela walked to the window and looked out
at the forest of masts in the bay. From the street
below came the jingle of bells on a mule team and
the shouted Spanish curses of the muleteer.

“
Someday,” she said, “we’ll board one of those
ships and we’ll sail for home, for England. Selena
will once again ride like a lady, not like a bar
barian. Selena will be courted as befits her heritage, not leered at by ruffians lolling in front of
saloons and gambling halls.”

She turned to face him and Gowdy shifted un
easily when he saw the fire in her eyes. “As God
is my witness,” she said, “I’ll go back to England. Not as a pauper, as a lady.”

He waited a long moment before answering.
“The route to England doesn’t go by way of Hang
town, Lady Pamela. Not for you. If you must go into commerce, stay here in San Francisco. Build
your store on the land you already own near the
Square.”

“
I never would have been able to buy that land without your help.”

He waved her gratitude aside.
“One day,” he
said, “this will be the greatest metropolis on the
eastern shore of the Pacific.”

“
I don’t have the time to wait.”