hesitated. “I wonder if you could be related-” She stopped speaking as the coach lurched into motion, pressing her back against the leather seat. She heard another round of curses from the driver that were mild in comparison to the ones previously heaped on Patrick Delaney’s head. Evidently the man couldn’t open his mouth without an obscenity issuing from it.
“He doesn’t mean any disrespect,” Patrick said quietly, his gaze on her face. “He’s just not accustomed to having to watch his language. I’m afraid you’re going to find we’re all guilty in that respect. We don’t get many ladies in Hell’s Bluff.”
“I’m not offended, just a bit surprised.” She looked searchingly at Patrick Delaney’s face. “I wonder if you know a man I’m going to Hell’s Bluff to see, Dominic Delaney.”
The boy’s indolent position didn’t change, but Elspeth had the impression that he had suddenly become alert. He crossed his legs at the ankles, his gaze on the dusty toe of his boot. “Everyone in Hell’s Bluff knows Dominic.”
“You have the same surname. Are you perhaps related?”
“Dominic Delaney.” Andre Marzonoff’s eyes were wide with surprise and excitement. “The gunslinger? He’s in Hell’s Bluff right now?”
“Dominic is no gunslinger.” Patrick enunciated each word carefully. “However, on occasion he’s been known to have permanently removed a few gentlemen, who have displeased him. I happen to know one of the things that displeases him most is to be called a gunslinger.”
The underlying menace in Patrick’s voice seemed to make little impression on the Russian. “I will be discreet. Will you be so kind as to give me an introduction?” he asked with enthusiasm.
Elspeth stared at him in amazement. How very curious. The count had just been told Dominic Delaney had actually killed a number of unfortunates and yet he was behaving as if the man were a god from Olympus. She shifted her gaze back to Patrick Delaney.
He was studying her with the same, cold analytical keenness she had seen on her father’s face a thousand times when he was studying a hieroglyphic-or lecturing her on one of her faults. Patrick Delaney no longer looked like a boy but seemed suddenly fully mature and vaguely threatening. “And do you need an introduction, too, Miss MacGregor?” he asked softly.
She moistened her lower lip with her tongue. For a fleeting moment she was swept back to the past. She was a child standing before her father’s desk, crushed and bewildered, flooded with that familiar unreasoning miserable sense of guilt. “Yes,” she stammered. “I mean no. I mean…”
Patrick felt as guilty as if he had kicked a puppy. The woman had appeared so cool and assured, but now he saw she wasn’t a woman at all. She was little more than a girl, just a few years older than he and his twin sister Brianne, and a hell of a lot less confident. She was peering at him from behind the thick lenses of her spectacles as if he were a wild animal suddenly let loose in the coach.
She must have taken him off guard with the question about his uncle or he wouldn’t have been so damn suspicious. He, as well as the rest of the family, had become accustomed to protecting Dominic over the years, but he realized that Elspeth MacGregor could pose no possible threat to him. No one in his wildest imaginings could mistake her for a Delilah hired by one of Dominic’s enemies.
She wasn’t even pretty, though the flush now coloring her cheeks made her look more attractive than he had first thought possible. Her features were regular enough, her nose small and straight, her lips pink and well-shaped. It was the lack of expression and vitality that robbed her face of real interest. She was as pale and controlled as the statue of the Madonna in Manuela’s chapel at the ranch. He thought her eyes must be a shade of brown, but it was difficult to be sure, as they were masked by the round thick lenses of those damned spectacles. Her hair was light brown also and pulled severely away from her face and bundled into a bun on top of her head. That silky black high-collared gown she was wearing was too loose to reveal much of her tiny, fine-boned figure, but he had an idea it was as uninspiring and lackluster as her face. No, definitely, no Delilah. And certainly not one of Dominic’s women. Dominic had no taste for respectable women these days, much to Gran-da’s despair. It was clear Elspeth MacGregor was not only respectable, she was vulnerable.
He forced himself to relax and smiled gently. “Dominic is my uncle and I’ll be very glad to introduce you, if you’re not acquainted with him. May I ask your business with him?”
He was being kind to her. Patronizing and indulgent and very kind. Elspeth could feel the tears of frustration and self-disgust sting her eyes. She had meant to be so adult and coolly businesslike, but at the first hint of intimidation she had reacted with a regrettable lack of composure. Patrick Delaney was only a boy and nothing in the least like her father. What could have triggered the memory that had caused her assurance to melt like ice in the sunshine?
She would
“Hell’s Bluff isn’t the kind of town that can offer a lady any of the amenities. Your father would have done better to come himself.”
Elspeth lowered her eyes to the reticule on her lap. “My father died four months ago.”
So that was the reason for all that overpowering black. “My sympathy. There was no one else who could make the trip?”
She shook her head. “I’m alone now.” She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. “And even if I weren’t alone, I would have come anyway. In case you hadn’t noticed, women are becoming very capable of handling their own affairs. In fact, I understand in your territory of Wyoming they have already won the vote. I don’t need anyone to shelter and protect me, Mr. Delaney.”
No more than a newborn calf in a snowstorm, Patrick thought while he carefully kept his expression from revealing that judgment. “I can see you’re very capable, but perhaps you’ll let me escort you to the hotel and get you settled, if that wouldn’t compromise your principles too drastically.” His lips twitched in spite of his attempt at solemnity. “I promise I won’t tell the ladies in Wyoming.”
He was laughing at her. She should have been annoyed but somehow she found that impossible. There was something in his manner that was so genuinely sunny and caring, she found herself smiling again. “I believe I’d be willing to risk their disapproval, but I’d prefer to see your uncle immediately. I may be able to conclude my business with him this afternoon. Is he staying at the hotel?”
“Well, not exactly.” Patrick had a sudden vision of the last glimpse he’d had of Dominic when he’d stuck his head in Rina’s room this morning to say good-bye. Rina had evidently decided to be generous; there had been a golden-haired beauty on one side of Dom in the big double bed, Rina herself on the other side. The thought of this little owl named Elspeth invading that scene of bacchanalian debauchery might be amusing, but he doubted Dom would think so. “It would be better if I brought Dom to you. He moves around a lot and has an interest in one or two claims out of town.”
Elspeth frowned. “If that’s the only way I can see him. Claims? You mean gold mines?” She had known Hell’s Bluff was a boom town, one of those fabulous places that had sprung into being when gold had been discovered. It was rather like Athena springing full grown from Zeus’s head, she thought. She should have guessed that Dominic Delaney was still here because of the gold being found in these parts. She experienced a swift rush of dismay. She had nothing to offer him but the potential for great wealth. What if he were already a wealthy man? “He owns gold mines?”
Patrick shook his head. “He grubstaked a couple of miners for a percentage of their claims, but they haven’t brought in more than a few sacks of dust yet.” He shrugged. “There’s plenty of gold here in the Santa Catalinas all right. It’s probably only a question of time until Dom’s miners make a strike.”
Elspeth released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She still had something with which to bargain, then. “We’ve heard of your famous gold rushes at home. Hell’s Bluff must be a very interesting town. Do you have one of these claims, too, Mr. Delaney?”
He made a face. “I have all I can do on Killara. My gran-da keeps us all too busy to go prospecting.”
“Except your uncle Dominic?”
“I heard he shot two men in Carson City,” Andre Marzonoff broke in. “He faced them in the street and they both emptied their guns while he walked toward them. He didn’t fire a shot until he was within range and then gunned them both down. Is it true he’s being hunted by the Texas Rangers?”
