A Gentleman's Bargain

by Patricia Waddell

  “Good night, Garrett."

  “Good night,” he said reluctantly, then turned to leave.

  Claire watched him go. She sighed wearily once Garrett disappeared into the hallway. The night had been an eventful one. She'd saved her virtue, but her heart was still very much at risk.

  Chapter Eleven

  Over the course of the next few days, Claire became accustomed to Garrett's arms. He insisted that she couldn't spend the entire day in her room, so he carried her down to breakfast, then into the parlor so she could sit with Grams. The older lady had been upset to learn that Claire had injured her ankle, but each time Garrett walked into a room toting Claire like a child, his grandmother's smile took on a satisfied gleam as if she couldn't be more pleased that Claire was an invalid and that her grandson had shortened his business hours to accommodate the young woman's inability to stand on her own two feet.

  By the fourth day of her convalescence, Claire bribed Libby into finding her a cane and she was out in the hall and on her way down the stairs when Garrett exited his bedroom.

  “What do you think you're doing?” he asked, clearly disappointed that she wasn't dependent upon him any longer. “You'll fall and break your neck this time."

  Claire clutched the pewter handle of the cane with one hand and the banister with the other. Garrett's constant presence over the last few days had begun to annoy her. What had happened on the Fourth of July couldn't happen again.

  “I've been practicing in my room,” she replied to his remark. “I can manage the steps if I take them one at a time."

  “You don't have to manage them at all,” Garrett said. “I'll carry you down."

  “No.” Claire let go of the banister and held out her hand as if she were warning off the devil. “I want to walk down by myself."

  Garrett assessed the look on her face for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Very well. But I'll go down with you. I don't want you hurt again."

  It was on the tip of Claire's tongue to say she wouldn't have been hurt the first time if he hadn't tried to seduce her. Instead, she turned her attention to the task of taking herself from the second floor of the Nob Hill mansion to the first floor. She paused on the landing to adjust her grip on the cane. Garrett was at her side. Claire could feel his gaze, but meeting it was more than she could manage at the moment. Just being beside him triggered memories of how he'd kissed her in the moonlight and the way he'd stripped her down to her underwear after Dr. Baldwin had left. Every time she looked at him, it weakened her resolve to find her brother and depart the banker's house as quickly as she could.

  “You don't have to postpone your business because of me,” she said as she tackled the last part of the stairway. “I'm sure you have more important things to do than carry me around like a mother cat moving her kittens from one corner of the barn to the other."

  Garrett's smile was disarming. “I don't mind,” he said, then leaned down to finish his remark in a soft, seductive whisper. “I like kittens. Especially pretty ones with sassy eyes and sharp little claws."

  Claire steadied herself against the banister, her frown growing fiercer by the moment. She glanced toward the foyer to make sure they were alone, then said in a firm but polite tone, “I hope this doesn't jolt your ego too much, Mr. Monroe, but I don't particularly care what you like."

  Garrett laughed out loud. “Still mad at me for kissing you?"

  Claire put on one of the false smiles she'd grown accustomed to wearing since she'd hired on as Garrett's fiancée. “Among other things."

  Garrett was about to tell her that he enjoyed stripping her down to her silk drawers almost as much as he'd enjoyed her passion in the park, but Mrs. Smalley's appearance stopped him.

  “Breakfast is ready,” the housekeeper said, wiping her hands on her apron. “It's on the patio, Mr. Monroe, like you asked."

  “Thank you,” Garrett replied. Still smiling, he turned back to Claire. “Shall we?"

  With as much dignity as the cane allowed, Claire finished off the last two steps and headed for the east garden. Garrett followed her, wondering when he'd lost his taste for sophisticated women. The more he saw of Claire, the more he found himself enthralled by the challenge she represented.

  In many ways, he had no idea who Claire Aldrich really was. It was almost impossible to tell when she was acting and when she was being herself. The talented way she blended her own personality with the role he'd hired her to play had him guessing more times than not. The only time he could be sure that Claire was really Claire was when they were alone. When no one was listening, she didn't hesitate to let him know what was on her mind. Her tangy wit amused him. The unique mix of she-cat and house cat was a puzzle Garrett longed to solve. Her eyes sparkled with defiance and her tongue had a sharp edge, but her female ravings weren't strong enough to fool Garrett into believing that she wasn't attracted to him. He knew better and he fully intended to make Claire admit her feelings as soon as she was back on two good feet.

  Claire was surprised by Garrett's mood at breakfast. He was being extremely amicable and it worried her. He's changing his tactics, she told herself. Well, it won't work. I won't let him get past my defenses again. But even as she made herself the promise, Claire was recalling how her pulse raced every time Garrett was near. If only she could find a way around his attitudes about love and marriage. If his behavior toward her the other night had been motivated purely by lust, then why was he being so attentive now?

  The man was an enigma in so many ways and Claire didn't have a clue how to go about solving the puzzle he represented.

  After breakfast, Garrett joined Claire and his grandmother in the back parlor. He read the morning paper while she and Grams discussed plans for a wedding that would never take place. Occasionally, Claire could feel Garrett's gaze, but she refused to meet it. Let him think what he wanted. She'd promised to convince his grandmother that their engagement was a legitimate one, and if that meant discussing the guest list and the availability of roses for a wedding bouquet, then so be it.

  Mrs. Smalley interrupted them to announce that Garrett had a visitor.

  “Who?” he asked, setting aside the newspaper.

  “Mr. Wilson,” the housekeeper told him. “I put him in the library."

  Claire's heart flipped over so hard she thought it might bruise a rib. She looked at Garrett, telling him with a silent stare that she wanted to be in on the meeting between him and the private investigator.

  “I won't be long,” he said, returning her solicitous look with one that said his grandmother would question Claire sitting in on a business meeting. Which meant it was out of the question. “I'll introduce you to Mr. Wilson before he leaves."

  Claire didn't like his answer, but Garrett wasn't about to share any information concerning her brother until he'd had time to sort it out for himself.

  He found Hiram waiting in the library. Once the door was closed, the investigator didn't waste any time getting around to the business at hand.

  “I've found Donald Aldrich."

  “Where?” Garrett asked, wishing for once that Hiram hadn't earned his fee in his usual efficient manner. Finding Claire's brother meant a complication Garrett would have rather done without for the time-being.

  “He's living in Chinatown."

  Chinatown! Claire absorbed the news through the crack in the library door. She'd excused herself from the parlor, telling Grams that she had to take care of a natural need. With the cane to support her weight, Claire gave a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure she was alone, then pressed her ear back to the door.

  “What's he doing in Chinatown?” Garrett prompted.

  “Working for Chen Loo."

  “Doing what?” Garrett's question came after a considerable pause.

  “I'm not entirely sure. At least not yet,” Hiram Wilson clarified. “After my interview in Tucson, I returned to the city, having a much better idea of where to look for our elusive Mr. Aldrich. Mr. Mitchell, the
retired railroad worker I went to see, was very helpful. He worked with Donald Aldrich during the expansion of the coastal railroad. Miss Aldrich's brother had been employed by the railroad prior to coming to California and Mr. Mitchell said it surprised everyone when the younger man was fired."

  Claire shut her eyes. She didn't like the direction the conversation was taking, but she had to listen, like it or not. Donald was her brother; if he was in trouble, he needed her help.

  “Why did the railroad fire him?” Garrett asked.

  “A small package of opium was found in the passenger's compartment of one of the railroad cars,” Hiram explained. “Several workers testified that Mr. Aldrich had been seen in the car shortly before it left the depot. It was also reported that he'd been spending more money than his wages could substantiate prior to the incident."

  The word opium was enough to make Claire almost drop the cane and collapse against the door. She'd never heard of the drug until she came to San Francisco. It was fairly prominent in the city, at least in the rougher sections of town. She'd heard enough gossip about the Chinese powder to know that it was more dangerous than alcohol. She'd also read in the papers that opium was a legal item of trade in China, although little was grown there. The drug was brought to the Orient from British India and other places in the Middle East. Once it was in China, it was sold to the Chinese people, who had become addicted to the drug. The balance of the cargo was then smuggled into America, most of it through the port of San Francisco.

  Claire strained to hear what Garrett was saying.

  “If Claire's brother is living in Chinatown, he must be under someone's protection. The Chinese don't give shelter to outsiders on a regular basis."

  Garrett's remark was tainted with sarcasm and Claire began to worry even more.

  “I have reason to believe that Mr. Aldrich is employed by Chen Loo,” the investigator replied.

  “Chen Loo is a Chinese viper,” Garrett said none too kindly. “The city officials have been trying to have him deported for the last ten years, but every time they find someone willing to testify, the witness ends up disappearing. Never to be found again. If Claire's brother is doing business with Chen Loo, he's lucky to be alive."

  Claire gripped the cane so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn't want to believe what she was hearing. She couldn't believe it. Not Donald. The brother she knew and loved wasn't that kind of man. He wasn't a criminal.

  “Here's a complete report of my findings to date,” Hiram said.

  Claire heard papers being shuffled.

  “Should I make contact with Mr. Aldrich directly?” the investigator asked of Garrett.

  “No. I want to look this report over more carefully before I decide what's to be done. Until then, continue asking questions, but not in Chinatown. I know someone better suited for that job."

  Claire knew Garrett was talking about his best friend. Christopher Landauer spoke Chinese and from what Garrett had told her, he must have friends in the tightly woven Oriental community.

  “I'll direct my inquiries to the railroad, then,” the investigator said.

  “Keep me posted,” Garrett told him.

  Claire stood up and backed away from the door, being careful not to make any noise. By the time the library door opened and Mr. Wilson took his leave, she was back in the parlor, sitting across from Grams. When Garrett joined them, Claire seemed content with her embroidery.

  “I'm sorry I didn't have time to introduce you,” Garrett said as he entered the parlor. “Mr. Wilson had another appointment. He offered his apologies."

  Claire managed a convincing smile for Grams’ sake. “Perhaps you can invite him to dinner. You know I enjoy meeting your friends."

  “Once your ankle is healed, I'll extend an invitation,” Garrett replied, knowing Claire was impatient for news of her brother. From what Hiram had told him, the news was all bad.

  Thinking to postpone a difficult conversation, Garrett leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I have to go to my office for a few hours. Take it easy with that cane. Dr. Baldwin said it would be another week before you can dance again."

  “Will you be home in time for dinner?” Claire turned the probing question into a polite inquiry.

  “I'll be back as soon as I can."

  After kissing his grandmother good-bye, Garrett went back into the library, opened his private safe, and stuffed the investigator's report inside.

  * * * *

  It was midafternoon before Grams retired for her nap. Claire sought her own room. Once the door was closed, she leaned against it for support. Her nerves were brittle enough to break. Since she couldn't pace and worry, she made her way to the bed and sat down.

  Opium. Chen Loo. Her brother.

  If Donald had been fired from his job with the railroad, it explained why he'd hired himself out to paint the house on Filbert Street. But there wasn't any logical explanation for why he'd been fired. No matter what Mr. Wilson had ferreted out in Tucson, Claire couldn't believe that her brother would be involved in anything illegal. Donald was too straitlaced for that kind of life.

  On the other hand, she hadn't seen her brother for over seven years, and people did change.

  Her mind bounced back and forth between the good and bad of what she'd heard. Donald was in the city. That meant, she could see him. Once she was eye to eye with her sibling, Claire knew she'd find out the truth. Donald had never lied to her. If he was in trouble, he might not like admitting it, but he'd be truthful with her.

  But how could she find him? She already knew that Garrett wasn't planning on telling her what he'd learned in the library that morning. He meant to do some investigating of his own. Claire was sure of it. Her instincts told her she had to find Donald before Garrett confronted him. She was sure that Mr. Wilson had included her brother's whereabouts in the report, and she was just as sure that Garrett had locked the report away.

  Feeling caged by circumstances, Claire longed to take a walk in the garden. Since her ankle wasn't up to the task, she stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling. If Mr. Wilson's report was accurate, her brother could be in danger. If, and Claire refused to believe it was possible, Donald had taken a wrong turn in his life, then her hopes of a new life in California had taken a wrong turn right along with him. She was back to being alone.

  It wasn't a comforting thought. The city that had once held her dreams was suddenly full of painful questions and unanswered riddles. The arrangements she'd made with Garrett were temporary. A matter of weeks or months were raindrops in the sea compared to the years she had in front of her. Claire didn't like thinking about a future without the San Francisco banker, but it was there looming in front of her. With or without Donald, she had to take charge of her life again and make her way in the world.

  She needed to talk to her brother, but she was afraid she wasn't going to like the answers Donald gave her. The questions kept Claire from resting and by the time she went down to dinner she was determined to confront Garrett once and for all.

  * * * *

  “Where's Christopher?” Garrett asked as Andy pushed a key into one of the pigeon holes behind the hotel counter.

  “In Sacramento."

  “What in the hell is he doing there?"

  Andy cleared his throat, then answered. “He took Miss Holmes to visit the new hotel."

  Garrett let out a frustrated sigh. “When's he due back?"

  “Tuesday, I think,” Andy told him. The clerk wasn't surprised that Garrett seemed more upset over his partner's absence than he did over his missing mistress. Any man with good eyesight could see that Claire Aldrich was worth ten of Evelyn Holmes. “Mr. Landauer said to tell you that if Miss Belton asks, he's in Sacramento on business."

  Garrett didn't bother replying to the remark. “When Christopher gets back, tell him I want to see him right away. It's important."

  “Yes, sir."

  Garrett exited the hotel as quickly as he'd entered. He'd
come down the Hill expecting to find Christopher, although he vaguely remembered Claire receiving a note from Belinda Belton apologizing for not being able to visit. Mrs. Belton had taken to her bed with a case of something or other and Belinda was needed at home. Garrett knew Christopher was making use of the opportunity to pursue a more satisfying relationship with Evelyn.

  He couldn't blame his friend for indulging himself. Celibacy was for monks and old men. Mentally Garrett tallied the time since Claire had moved into his house. Eight weeks without a woman. In the past fifteen years, Garrett couldn't recall going eight days without a female to satisfy his needs. Ironically, it didn't enter his mind to find a willing woman to break his sexual fast. The only woman he wanted was Claire and even though she wasn't willing now, Garrett was determined to change her mind.

  His former resolve not to get involved with a virgin had gone by the wayside. He knew he should be ashamed of himself for even thinking about seducing her, but he wasn't. The thought of a woman like Claire being wasted on a man who couldn't appreciate her vitality and female wonder disgusted him as much as the thought of her being married to a store clerk or farmer. She deserved better. She was beautiful, intelligent, and she needed a man who could appreciate the passion she'd give if properly tutored.

  Since he was in town, Garrett decided to go to his office and get some work done. He could use the time to think of what he was going to say to Claire when she asked about Hiram's visit. Garrett didn't want to lie to her, but until he knew more about Donald Aldrich's relationship with the Chinaman Chen Loo, he didn't want Claire knowing her brother's whereabouts.

  Garrett had grown up in San Francisco, but Chinatown was a world unto itself. The Chinese community had flourished during the years of gold fever and railroad construction. The Orientals were a reliable workforce that had been exploited, discriminated against, and ill-used for years. While the wealthy moved toward the hills, the Chinese unified and maintained their cultures and traditions. The adversity of being different from their American hosts had strengthened their community rather than weakening it.