Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor by Rue Allyn Read Free Book Online Page A

relaxed. Showing weakness of any kind would be a mistake.
    In the room with the bidders, Cerise laughed. “Is that a second bid from the gentleman in the back. No? What about you, sir, in the derby? Will anyone bid $1,000 or more?”
    “That’s too steep for me,” announced a man.
    “I’m a Justice of the California Court.” The judge glared at Dutch, stuck out his chest, set the cards down, and carefully covered the envelope with one hand. “Why would I be afraid to come to San Francisco?”
    What was Jeremiah Trahern trying to hide? Dutch tugged the envelope from under his father’s palm, picked up the folded paper, and spun it on its corner against the table. He gave the judge a long, hard look and spoke so his father alone would hear. “Father Conroy’s committee knows lying, thieving slime when they see it no matter how dignified the governor and his bully boys try to make it look.”
    In the auction room the bidding crept upward.
    “I’m out,” said another voice.
    Privately, Dutch thought dealing with whores at any price was rank foolishness. Paying one thousand dollars for a woman amounted to sheer idiocy. Whoever bid that much deserved to lose his money.
    Eyes as blue as his own mirrored Dutch’s cold anger.
    Jeremiah eyed the envelope but picked up the card deck again instead of trying to get the envelope back. The older man fanned the cards then laid them face up on the table in a show of nonchalance. “Have more respect for your father, son. Besides there hasn’t been a true vigilance committee in San Francisco in nearly twenty years.”
    Tapping the envelope atop his clenched fist, Dutch stared at the carefully arranged suits and thought about those years. Years of learning to thieve and pick locks at his father’s knee, years of struggle and suffering after the judge deserted them, years of watching his mother whore and die. More years of servicing Cerise Duval to keep a roof over Trey’s head and food in their bellies. Then, after the murder of Father Conroy’s sister finally broke Duval’s hold, Dutch spent years working and sweating to bury a past that even now would not leave him and Trey alone. All because Jeremiah Trahern was a cheat and worse.
    Dutch swallowed the anger that soured his throat, wishing he had some chocolate to sweeten the taste. “Oh but the vigilance committee is active. It’s effective, if not widely recognized. The stabbing death of that merchant on Pacific Street — you know the man who wouldn’t pay protection money to the Sacramento bully boys — has Father Conroy and his friends all riled up. That’s one reason I’m here. Thought you should know.”
    The judge’s face paled then he shrugged. “They can’t pin a thing on me, boy. I wasn’t even in the city when that fellow died.”
    “Maybe so.” From the cards spread before the judge, Dutch snagged the ace of spades with a corner of the envelope. “But you were always good with a pig sticker.”
    A roar emerged from the auction room as the bidding rose.
    The elder Trahern’s eyes gleamed, and he produced a feral smile. “Not as good as you, boy, from what I hear. Bet Padre Conroy and his pals would be interested to know just what you intended doing to the good father’s sister the night she died. Duval’s still got the evidence that could convict any of us.”
    Fury at the insult to the memory of that blameless girl more than the implied threat to himself brought Dutch to his feet. He reached across the table for the judge. Fisting one hand in the older man’s shirt, Dutch lifted him from the chair. “You piece of scum. Don’t you try to dirty her memory or me. If not for you, she’d be alive now. That murder was all of your making.”
    His father’s smile dimmed, replaced with a fearful rictus. “Put me down, son. You’re drawing attention.”
    Indeed all noise of the auction had ceased. From the corner of his eye, Dutch could see the auction room audience and most of the bar patrons