"We can't do anything until Mr. Hale returns. He's on some business trip, and no one seems to know for certain when he'll be back."
Tyler nodded knowledgeably. "I'll see what I can find out about Mr. Hale. Look after your sister and keep in touch."
Daniel watched as the gambler walked off. This adventure had remained exciting while Tyler Monteigne stayed with them. Now that they were on their own, he felt the first stirring of doubt and worry. He knew Evie better than anyone. She was beautiful and charming and had a way of twisting people around her little finger. She was also running as scared as he was. Daniel could understand why people didn't see that right off, but he'd thought Tyler was a little more perceptive. Maybe he was, and he just didn't want the responsibility of looking after two young people old enough to take care of themselves.
That meant they were really on their own. Squaring his shoulders, Daniel began the painful maneuver of ascending the stairs.
* * *
At almost this same time, Jonathan Hale, the lawyer, was standing before the unobtrusive St. Louis brick town house of one Delilah "Nanny" Witherspoon. Large shade trees up and down the street indicated the length of time this neighborhood had been established. The substantial homes, well-kept yards, and the scattering of carriage houses in the rear gave indication of the quiet wealth of the area. It was not precisely the kind of area Hale had expected to find a former mistress and her illegitimate child living in.
Revising that theory but not having a new one to put in its place, Hale attempted the discreet door knocker one more time. He had been here three days in a row at various times and had never caught anyone at home. There should at least be servants, he thought. But as in the previous days, no one answered the summons.
Much as he disliked the idea, he would have to start making inquiries. Glancing at the substantial home next door, he straightened his frock coat and set out in that direction. Someone, somewhere, had to know where to find Delilah Witherspoon. And he hoped that Mrs. Witherspoon would swiftly lead him to one Evangeline Peyton Howell. The Hardings were generously financing this expedition to St. Louis, but Hale had his own interest in the matter.
With eagerness, he pounded on the massive knocker of the house next door.
* * *
On the other side of the country, in a boardinghouse in San Francisco, a dark-haired gentleman contemplated a portrait hanging near the woodstove that heated the room. At one time the portrait had hung over a massive marble fireplace in the parlor downstairs, but the house had seen better days, and so had he.
His gaze returned to the crudely scratched letter in his hand. Angelina had always been a poor student, and the years spent raising that brood of children had not improved her handwriting. He had helped her when her husband was alive, when the money had been easy and plentiful. He felt a deep regret that he could do so little now that she was a widow. He felt a small rush of homesickness, but it had been a long, long time since he had been home. There had been no place for him back there. He had found a life here, but that life was almost over. Perhaps this letter meant it was time to go home.
Tears rimmed his eyes as he read the words over. He had been betrayed all those years ago, but he still couldn't help feeling the pain of the love he had carried with him ever since. Perhaps she had been right to betray him. Look at where he was now.
His fingers trembled as he read about the carriage accident that had sent his beloved into a river that wouldn't be considered a puddle anywhere else in the world. What kind of incompetent fool was her husband to allow the accident to happen? The man deserved to die, and he was glad to know he'd received his fitting punishment.
But she was still alive. She was ill and injured, but alive. Was it a sign? Was there some promise in it for him? Could he dare let himself hope after all these years?
He was being foolish. He was over forty and had spent nearly half his life out here. He had earned a certain amount of respect in this town. His talent had faded with his eyesight, but