Lost Fortune (The Unbridled Series Book 1)

by Sandra E Sinclair

  The silence in the room seemed to be caving in on him. He should never have come; the anxiety wasn’t worth it.

  His heart leaped to his throat when the women returned. The smile she gave him turned him to molasses. She introduced him to Jewel’s fiancé, then they adjourned to the dining room.

  Cal sat and ate his meal in silence, stealing a glance at Rilla as she illuminated the dining table. Most of the conversations were shared anecdotes aimed at Mr. Pigeuron, and centered around Jewel and her engagement to Thomas.

  They’d had a difficult beginning, especially with the gossip surrounding their courtship. Cal was only half listening as he searched for a way to ask Rilla to walk with him, so he could confess what he’d done and explain it was his job. Then he wanted to fall on his knees and beg her not to marry Odum.

  The more he listened to her laugh and engage with her guests, the more he knew she was the one for him. He loved her with every fiber of his being. She moved him like no other and he was lost to her. No other woman could compare.

  Even though, he would categorize Jewel as a classic beauty, Rilla’s loveliness ran deeper. She cast an inner glow which would make a starry night harvesting a full moon jealous. She was like a summer’s day, radiating on a garden filled with brilliant colors of the most exotic flowers, and smelling just as heavenly.

  Their eyes met and locked across the table. A ripple ran through him, and his throat closed around the morsel of food he’d tried to swallow. He began to choke.

  In seconds, she was at his side holding a glass of water to his lips. Tears streamed down his cheeks as her closeness made his situation worse. His inability to breath was not solely caused by the particle of food now lodged in his throat. Her presence sucked what little air he had left out of his lungs.

  Before he knew what was happening, Thomas had him bent over, punching him in the back. The action sent the food flying from his mouth and he collapsed on the ground gasping for air, telling himself he deserved nothing less for what he had done to her. It was divine retribution.

  With sudden clarity he knew what he had to do. “Thank you, Thomas. I dare say you saved my life. If I may be excused for a moment, I think I need some fresh air.” He turned to Rilla, “Will you walk with me to ensure I’m completely recovered?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Maybe I should come too,” Mr. Pigeuron said, rising from the table.

  “No, please stay and finish your meal. I’ll take Mr. Dalton around the grounds. We’ll be quite visible from the windows.” She indicated the French doors in the dining room as she took his elbow and led him toward them.

  “I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused,” Cal said, thankful the night was humid. Then she might believe his flustered expression was caused by the warmth of the night, and the fact he’d almost choke to death.

  “Think nothing of it. It’s I who should be apologizing to you. I have not been a gracious hostess, allowing Jewel’s forthcoming nuptials to monopolize the conversation all evening.”

  “Not at all. I’m very happy for them. It’s not easy finding a good woman in California. Thomas is a very lucky man.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell them you said that.”

  “Oh, I reckon I should have said something myself when you were all talking about it.”

  “I’m sure they didn’t notice.”

  “Miss Rilla, I need to tell you something and when I’m done telling you, I’ll understand if you never want to see me again.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew he was lying. He’d never understand why his one chance at happiness would be so wickedly denied him, and all because of a man he loathed with every being in his body.

  “Is that a fact? Does it have anything to do with why you took so long to respond to my letters?”

  “Ah, no, I think I explained what happened well enough in the letter I sent you.”

  “Well, I suppose if you have nothing more to add, you better tell me what it is.”

  He stopped walking and turned to face her. “Like my card says, I work for the Pinkerton agency. I’m a detective, and the day we met, I was on a new assignment.” His fingers trembled a little as he ran them through his hair. This was a lot harder in real life than it had been in his head.

  But like the lady he knew her to be, she stood quietly, waiting for him to continue. “I was working for a man called Wyatt Worthington. I’ve since found out he’s your half-brother. Believe me, I was only doing my job.”

  He raised his eyebrows when she didn’t react to what he said. Maybe Pigeuron had beaten him to the punch. Her expression gave nothing away. His palms felt moist, and he wiped them along the side of his pants.

  Cal swallowed. “You don’t want to ask me anything?” he asked, wanting some indication she was good with what he was saying.

  She shook her head in response to his question, although he did see something flicker in her eyes. “My job was to find the rest of Mr. Worthington’s inheritance. I traced it to you, and seeing Mr. Pigeuron here confirmed my findings.”

  “What do you intend to do with those findings?” her voice was toneless.

  He rubbed the back of his neck as he fished for an easy way to answer her question. The light faded from her eyes, and his gut churned with self-loathing. “I’m sorry,” he said shaking his head. “I’ve been in town awhile now, I’m afraid I’ve already done it. I sent a letter to Mr. Worthington. He will be here the day after tomorrow.”

  If he thought her blank expression was fretful for him, the blind fear which sprung to her eyes cut him in two. He was no better than horse manure. He couldn’t hate himself any more if he tried.

  Cal searched her face for something other than blind terror. He wanted to take her in his arms and make it all go away. But he’d given up any right to be within ten feet of her. They stood in silence for a while.

  Then she said, “Thank you for telling me. I think you should go.” Her voice was void of any emotion and it broke Cal’s heart. He did this to her, and he could never take it back. Never…

  Chapter 15

  Wyatt arrived in town, checked into the hotel, and without speaking to Cal, made his way to the Staab's School for Girls. He wanted to be face to face with the harlot, the bastard child his father sired, who’d stolen what was rightfully his. He had every intention to see this sister of his, and scare her senseless. When he was finished with her, she wouldn't know up from down.

  His mother died of a broken heart so his father could carry on with his painted lady. His father obviously cared more about them than his legitimate family. What he left for Rilla far outweighed his inheritance. That gold mine could be chugging out gold for years, long after his fortune had dried up if he didn't invest wisely.

  On seeing the extent of the mansion, rage fired through to his very core. He began to bang on the door. This was his house, his servants...his. Every blade of grass, plank of wood, the nails, the rafters, all his...every inch of this property belonged to him.

  When the maid opened the door, he barged his way past her, shouting Rilla’s name at the top of his lungs. He had no use for niceties, not with a woman like that. He’d make her pay for every tear his mother shed, while her mother was with his father, making bastard babies and having a whale of a time.

  It was time for him to get his revenge and his father’s money, all of it. Wyatt couldn't take his spite out on the two people he held responsible for his miserable childhood, and his mother’s broken heart. But he could make the offspring of such an unholy union suffer for their transgressions, and he would.

  When Rilla appeared at the top of the stairs, he stopped shouting as recognition rendered him speechless. She was the woman he’d tipped his hat to when visiting that scoundrel Pigeuron. Bile bubbled in his stomach and rose to his lips. Pigeuron, the little weasel, was next on his revenge hit list. He’d aided this...this woman to steal what was rightfully his.

  She may have gotten his father’s love, but she wasn’t going to get his in
heritance. He'd drag her scandalous, tainted hide through the streets if he had too. How dare she pass herself off as respectable? She was nothing more than the child of a worthless whore, and he'd see to it the whole town knew what she was, and where she came from.

  From the way her eyes widened as she descended the stairs, he could tell she remembered him too.

  “May I help you?” Her smile was heart wrenching; he shook the thought from his mind. She was his enemy, and he’d do well to remember it.

  Why was she being so darn polite? “Yes, I believe you can.”

  “Well, then, would you like to accompany me into the drawing room?”

  Before he closed the door behind him, he stared at her, pushing as much contempt as he could muster into his expression. The way she jolted when she looked at him satisfied his desire to see her squirm.

  “You know who I am, don’t you?” He looked her up and down and smirked.

  “Yes.”

  “And why I’m here?” He watched as she visibly found her composure, her back straightened and she gazed at him openly. All previous traces of fear vanished from her eyes. The sight was like kindle for the furnace roaring inside him. Her next words had him clenching his teeth and fists.

  “I have no idea why you’re here. Was it to meet your long lost sister, perhaps?”

  “I’m an only child. I have no sister.”

  “It’s my understanding we share a father, wouldn’t that by definition make us related?” He watched as she walked over to a chair by the window and sat. “And such a circumstance would make you my brother. Do sit down.”

  “I’d rather stand, and stop calling me ‘brother.’ You’re nothing to me. Nothing, do you hear?”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. Would you like a beverage?”

  “All I want from you is what you stole.”

  “I didn’t steal anything from you. Until a few days ago, I didn’t even know you existed.”

  “If that’s truly the case, you know now. You know what you are, and you should also know, you have no legitimate claim to what’s mine. I want it back.”

  “I’ve taken nothing from you, and I have nothing to give you. My parents died and left me everything I have. I don’t recall your name being mentioned in the will. Are you sure I can’t offer you anything else?” She reached for the cord near her hand.

  Had she not reached for it, he wouldn’t have seen the tremor in her movement, and realized she wasn’t as composed as she’d have him believe. He felt more in control and empowered by her fear, he sucked down his temper. Two could play her game. He took a seat opposite her, and crossed his legs.

  “I think I will have that drink. Thank you.”

  The maid came in, and she gazed at him. “Is lemonade all right for you?”

  “That will be fine.” He had no intention of touching a drop of it, so she could offer him whatever she liked. He waited for the maid to leave.

  “While I was at the hotel, I heard some interesting news. Would you like me to share that news with you?” He grinned as she shifted in her seat. She appeared incapable of controlling her natural urge to flee. She wasn’t as tough as he first thought. The knowledge pleased him.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not one for gossip, so no, I have no desire to hear your news.”

  “I’ll tell you anyway. I do believe congratulations are in order. Odum Woolum, is it?”

  “Is what?”

  “The name of your betrothed.”

  She didn’t respond in words, but he saw her swallow, that was enough for him to continue taunting her. “Does he know about you?”

  “There’s nothing for him to know.”

  “I think there is…I think there’s plenty that he should know. I hear his mother is the person I should meet. As you insist on calling me your brother, as the eldest sibling, I think it’s only right I introduce myself. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s time for you to leave.” She stood and walked toward the door.

  He stood too and grabbed her wrist, drawing her to him. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’m leaving, but first, I want to leave you with a parting gift. If you give me what’s mine, I will keep our little family secret. If you don’t, as a bastard, you may find you have no familial rights. I have no qualms about involving the law to settle this matter. Let’s see how long your secret lasts then. You have a couple of days to think it over.”

  He let her go and walked over to the door. No way was he going to make her open the door to throw him out of his own house. That privilege was his and his alone. He paused at the door. “Know this, dear sister, I’m a fair man but I’m not a patient one. Don’t tarry over your decision for too long.”

  Joy spread through him as he saw her tighten her lips.

  Chapter 16

  Rilla crumpled to the ground as soon as Wyatt slammed the door behind him. Her hands covered her face as she gave in to her despair. If Wyatt carried out his threat and spoke to Mrs. Woolum, the biggest gossip in the district, she’d be finished as a teacher and as a human being. Her would-be mother-in-law would see to it.

  She may as well pack her belongings now.

  If she gave Wyatt what he asked, she’d be no better off. Without her inheritance, she’d still be homeless with no sufficient funds to live on. Rilla was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. She was out of options, with nowhere to go, and no one to turn to. It was possible Jewel would offer her aid, but she couldn’t accept it.

  She couldn’t allow Wyatt or anyone else to reduce her to begging for scraps and loose change. She was more than that. Maybe she could be a mail order bride; there were lots of men looking for a wife in California, as well as other territories. She could answer one of those advertisements before things got too difficult.

  All it would take is one word from Mrs. Woolum and her reputation would be in tatters. Her stomach muscles cramped and she swallowed down the bile that churned and gurgled inside her. Rilla felt as though, she’d been hugging the ground for a lifetime before Pigeuron came into the room.

  He was by her side in an instant, and what he said made her realize only a few minutes had passed. “My, dear child, whatever did he do to you?” He took out a kerchief and handed it to her.

  She didn’t answer. The most she could release were a few hiccups, and moans as she fought the urge to scream, and curse her parents for reducing her to this. She turned away from Pigeuron. No one should witness her sorrow.

  “I heard what he told you. Not one word of what he said was true, in terms of the legality of the will. Your inheritance is yours and yours alone. The only issue we have here is where to find you a decent husband in the time we have left. If your fiancé finds out your origin, he may not stick around.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” She sniffed and dried her eyes. No, she wouldn’t let Wyatt win. Rilla stood and brushed herself down. Crying never solved anything. She needed to think and think fast. She could ask Jewel to have Thomas arrange for her to meet one his mining friends. But she’d still be left with the problem of the legitimacy of her birth.

  It was no use. She would have to leave Longchapel and begin anew somewhere else, and make sure Mrs. Woolum didn’t get wind of where she went. The woman’s arms were far reaching in her determination to climb the social ladder. She had acquainted herself with some very powerful and influential friends. If the old witch had the money to back her ambitions for fame and social standing, she would be twice as unbearable.

  “You know I would offer up my own services, but the law firm has been handed down in my family for generations. If I married you, the practice would be ruined.”

  “Thank you.” Rilla smiled and squeezed Mr. Pigeuron’s hand. His roundabout way of rejecting her tickled her. It was nice that he thought she would consider him as a possible suitor. As bad as things were, she wasn’t quite there yet.

  “I’ll pray on it, something will turn up. There’s always a way. I just have to seek it
earnestly. I truly believe that. But for now I need to check my finances and come up with a workable plan.”

  Pigeuron patted her hand, the look on his face told her he was doubtful. Rilla shook it off. If there was a way out, she’d find it. She didn’t have a choice. Rilla left Pigeuron in the drawing room and went for a walk on the grounds while she waited for Jewel to get back from a field trip with the girls. Knowing Jewel, she probably had the girls with her choosing material and patterns for her wedding dress.

  Rilla sat under a cherry tree and skimmed through the publication she’d taken from the sideboard on her way out.

  There were many advertisements for mail order brides, as well as for dancing girls. If things got really bad, she could always pick one. When Jewel got back she’d ask her for her thoughts. There were little to no career options for women. Rilla smiled. If the worst came to the worst, she could always disguise herself as a man and join the Union; at least she’d be dying for a cause she believed in.

  She laughed a bitter sound and turned the page. As she flicked through, she saw a few overseas notices for governesses. She spoke a few languages, but most of the advertisements called for French speakers. Rilla beamed. She had a plan. If things went south here, she’d go overseas.

  They were asking for cultured governesses, young ladies from good families and respectable homes. Her heart sank. Last year the traits of the person they were describing would have belonged to her. She wished there was a way to relive her life again from the beginning, but with a different ending.

  She stretched her legs, leaned back onto the grass and closed her eyes—blocking out the beauty of the colors around her. The bed of pink, sweet smelling cherry blossom leaves beneath her, the magnificence of the tropical plants which only seemed to grow on her land. Their bright shades of orange, yellow, red, and blue merged delightfully with the native plants of California. A medium-size herb garden trailed off from the rest of the garden. And the sun beamed off the glass windows of the mansion— casting a blast of tiny rainbows that hovered in mid-air and shimmered teasingly against the sky.