Diane T. Ashley by Jasmine Page A

returned to his room to brood over his wayward heart, but he didn’t want to upset Lily. She’d been so good to him over the years. “I’ll get my horse and meet you there.”
    “Excellent.” Blake pulled his arm away and pointed at David. “If you don’t show up, I will have to come looking for you.”
    Both men laughed. David’s spirit lifted a bit. If he could keep his distance from the star of the evening, it might be good for him to get out.
    He retrieved his rented horse from a nearby stable and rode down Washington Street past stately homes. A dog raced along the length of one iron fence, barking until David and his horse passed the border of the home’s lot.
    He arrived at the Bluff, a two-story building hunched on the edge of the bluff it was named for, overlooking the rushing waters of the Mississippi. Tethering his horse, he tugged on his neckcloth. Why had he agreed to come? He might have defected if not for the arrival of his hosts.
    The restaurant looked as though it was being besieged, as at least a dozen people descended on it from the three carriages. Mrs. Champney was followed by her son, Jean Luc, and her daughter-in-law, Anna. Anna’s aunt alit and stood looking up at her escort, Jasmine’s father Henrick Anderson. Jasmine’s aunt Dahlia and uncle Phillip were the first to disembark from the next carriage, followed by Camellia and her husband, Jonah. The final carriage contained Lily and Blake and Jasmine, who seemed to be still riding high on her success.
    David stepped forward to offer her his arm, but she swept past him, her little nose in the air.
    Camellia rescued him from embarrassment when she put her hand on his arm. “We can always count on you to be the gentleman, David. I have missed you since you left us for California and Illinois.”
    Recovering his wits, David smiled and answered the questions she peppered him with. By the time they were all seated, he found himself on Camellia’s left hand. Aunt Dahlia sat on his left. He could see Jasmine’s dark hair some distance away and drew a breath of relief. At least he would not have to worry about being snubbed again.
    “Lily says you are a policeman.” Dahlia claimed his attention with her statement.
    David shook his head. “I’m more of a detective.”
    “What’s the difference?”
    “Policemen are paid by the city. My employer is paid by the people who need his help.”
    Her husband, Phillip, leaned forward. “So you are a mercenary?”
    David supposed it was a fair question. Picking up his fork and spearing an olive, he considered how to answer the man. “Except that I am not a soldier, sir, I guess you can say that is a proper title for what we do.”
    “David’s organization is quite famous.” Camellia joined the conversation. “He’s a Pinkerton.”
    Both Dahlia and Phillip frowned at him as though they’d never heard of the agency at all. Camellia patted his hand. “I do miss you, though. No one can keep Jasmine in check like you can.”
    “I don’t know about that. Jasmine is high-spirited, but she’s always known how to get what she wants.” David glanced toward the girl in question.
    She threw back her head and laughed at that moment, showing the full length of her white neck.
    The waiter standing nearby couldn’t take his eyes off her. David wanted to take the fellow out back and explain basic manners. A pain in his hand made him look down. His fork was no longer as straight as it had been.
    He looked up and caught Camellia’s understanding gaze. “Your sentiments are nothing to be ashamed of, David. Jasmine is too naive to realize her effect on those around her. I’m afraid she is headed for trouble, but she will not listen to us. Perhaps you might have better luck.”
    Wondering what he could say to Jasmine that might make a difference, David concentrated on the food on his plate. She would never listen to him, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to put himself in the position of being ignored or