before she’d left New Orleans. Perhaps the war had left people with little or no money with which to gamble. If not, Lady Luck could be the answer to all of her problems.
She had to discover why Eric had been silent about this part of her inheritance. Unless Lady Luck was bankrupt, she was not penniless or homeless. She had been to the gambling house many times with her father, during the day when he checked on business and once at night when her father had received an urgent summons from the manager, Dan Myers. Onthat occasion she had been told to remain in her father’s private suite, but curiosity had gotten the best of her. From behind the curtain that concealed the stairway, she had watched people gamble and listen to music. The crowd had been dressed in fine clothes, the ladies had worn jewels, and everyone there had had plenty of money to spend. In later years, Maren had learned every game of chance, and she could probably beat most card players. To the rear of the first floor were the living quarters of Mary Malone, the cook and head housekeeper. Upstairs were two spacious apartments, one for the manager, Dan Myers, and one for the owner’s use. She wondered if the other partner had ever stayed there. A place to live, she mused, and a way to earn money….
“Are you worried about something, Maren?” her companion asked as he devoured a second dessert. “You’re awfully quiet.”
Maren decided not to question Marc further about Lady Luck, and she hoped he would forget he had mentioned it to her. She wanted to find out what Eric would say, what he would do, about the gambling house. And she wanted to find a way to visit it, secretly. There were some things she needed to learn from Dan Myers and Mary Malone, preferably before Eric approached her about selling the place. She was disappointed because she’d thought Eric had really changed for the better. They had been friends, were relatives; and her parents had done a great deal for him. How could he betray her in this selfish way? IfEric was up to mischief, she wanted him to reveal it. “I was just thinking.”
Marc’s next words dashed her plans. “About selling Lady Luck?”
Knowing Marc worshipped his brother and wasn’t too intelligent, Maren cleverly replied, “Eric must have wanted the news about Lady Luck to remain a secret for a while. I don’t think we should mention it to him.”
Fearing he had exposed one of his brother’s secrets, Marc urged, “Please don’t tell him I slipped up. He would be mad at me.” To himself Marc added, He might order that Horben Wolfe to beat me up again. Marc James was terrified of the ghostly-eyed man.
“I won’t mention that you told me about Lady Luck,” she promised.
“Thank you, Maren,” he said, his expression and tone almost frantic. Maren noticed how upset he was, and she wondered about that later.
After dinner, Maren returned to her suite. As she paced the floor in deep thought, it struck her that if things were as bad as her cousin claimed, Eric would not have the money to pay for this costly suite. Why had he lied? On the ship, Eric had said he wanted to be rich and important. Had he seized her inheritance to obtain his desires?
Maren hated being suspicious of her cousin, but his explanations did not ring true. If she asked him to clarify the contradictions, he would think she was calling him a liar and a thief, and she knew from past observations that it riled Eric James to be doubted,questioned, or cornered. If she pressed him, he would only become silent or bitter, and she would learn nothing. Her parents had taught her to be persistent and clever, so she decided an investigation was in order. But it must be done gingerly and slowly.
Maren stripped off her clothes and put them away. Having donned a pale green batiste nightgown, she blew out the lamps in her suite, except one. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the changing light as the full moon bathed the room in a soft glow. Only a few
She had to discover why Eric had been silent about this part of her inheritance. Unless Lady Luck was bankrupt, she was not penniless or homeless. She had been to the gambling house many times with her father, during the day when he checked on business and once at night when her father had received an urgent summons from the manager, Dan Myers. Onthat occasion she had been told to remain in her father’s private suite, but curiosity had gotten the best of her. From behind the curtain that concealed the stairway, she had watched people gamble and listen to music. The crowd had been dressed in fine clothes, the ladies had worn jewels, and everyone there had had plenty of money to spend. In later years, Maren had learned every game of chance, and she could probably beat most card players. To the rear of the first floor were the living quarters of Mary Malone, the cook and head housekeeper. Upstairs were two spacious apartments, one for the manager, Dan Myers, and one for the owner’s use. She wondered if the other partner had ever stayed there. A place to live, she mused, and a way to earn money….
“Are you worried about something, Maren?” her companion asked as he devoured a second dessert. “You’re awfully quiet.”
Maren decided not to question Marc further about Lady Luck, and she hoped he would forget he had mentioned it to her. She wanted to find out what Eric would say, what he would do, about the gambling house. And she wanted to find a way to visit it, secretly. There were some things she needed to learn from Dan Myers and Mary Malone, preferably before Eric approached her about selling the place. She was disappointed because she’d thought Eric had really changed for the better. They had been friends, were relatives; and her parents had done a great deal for him. How could he betray her in this selfish way? IfEric was up to mischief, she wanted him to reveal it. “I was just thinking.”
Marc’s next words dashed her plans. “About selling Lady Luck?”
Knowing Marc worshipped his brother and wasn’t too intelligent, Maren cleverly replied, “Eric must have wanted the news about Lady Luck to remain a secret for a while. I don’t think we should mention it to him.”
Fearing he had exposed one of his brother’s secrets, Marc urged, “Please don’t tell him I slipped up. He would be mad at me.” To himself Marc added, He might order that Horben Wolfe to beat me up again. Marc James was terrified of the ghostly-eyed man.
“I won’t mention that you told me about Lady Luck,” she promised.
“Thank you, Maren,” he said, his expression and tone almost frantic. Maren noticed how upset he was, and she wondered about that later.
After dinner, Maren returned to her suite. As she paced the floor in deep thought, it struck her that if things were as bad as her cousin claimed, Eric would not have the money to pay for this costly suite. Why had he lied? On the ship, Eric had said he wanted to be rich and important. Had he seized her inheritance to obtain his desires?
Maren hated being suspicious of her cousin, but his explanations did not ring true. If she asked him to clarify the contradictions, he would think she was calling him a liar and a thief, and she knew from past observations that it riled Eric James to be doubted,questioned, or cornered. If she pressed him, he would only become silent or bitter, and she would learn nothing. Her parents had taught her to be persistent and clever, so she decided an investigation was in order. But it must be done gingerly and slowly.
Maren stripped off her clothes and put them away. Having donned a pale green batiste nightgown, she blew out the lamps in her suite, except one. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the changing light as the full moon bathed the room in a soft glow. Only a few
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