Whittier,” Daniel called out and stood. She noticed and crossed to where he waited. “I didn’t expect a visit. Yesterday, you left me with the impression you’d had quite enough of me.”
“‘Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows,’” she replied.
Shakespeare.
Well, there’s another surprise.
“Are you in misery?” “That rather depends on you, Mr. Cady.”
She swept past him, trailing the scent of rose water, and settled onto the chair across the table from his. Daniel understood why Josiah had taken to her. She might not be arrestingly lovely, but with her even features and a habit of looking people in the face, she was more appealing than most women Daniel knew.
Sarah placed her reticule on the table but forgot to remove her crocheted gloves. Nervous, then. Rightly so.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, retaking his seat.Undoubtedly she was there to beg him to part with enough of Josiah’s money so she could make her way until she found employment. He might be willing to give her a small amount—say, thirty or forty dollars. Any more would make him a sucker for a pretty face. As bad as Josiah.
“The Occidental is a first-rate hotel, Mr. Cady. Better than where I thought you might be staying.” Her gaze slipped to the cuffs of his shirt. Looking for signs of wear, he supposed. “But in spite of appearances, I’d guess you are used to fine accommodations, since you’re the grandson of Addison Hunt of Chicago and your arrival in town warrants a mention in today’s
Daily Alta
. An announcement that saved me from having to hunt all over the city for you.”
So that was how she had found him. “I am indeed related to Addison Hunt.” Somehow. It was a mystery to Daniel how a man so cruel could’ve sired a daughter as gentle and loving as Grace Hunt Cady.
“What does he do?”
“He’s a railroad tycoon.”
“Then you can afford a room here, after all.” She tilted her head, showing off the curve of her neck above the lace trimming her collar. “Or maybe you’re counting on that inheritance to pay your bills.”
“I have enough money to pay my way, Miss Whittier, and the Occidental has affordable rooms, believe it or not.” A small reward after months of dusty boardinghouses and seedy rented lodgings. Besides, when he’d arrived in San Francisco he hadn’t been planning on staying long. “I hate to disappoint you by not occupying one of the hotel’s luxury suites, but my grandfather is the tycoon, not me.”
Sarah peered at him. Once again, he experienced the unsettling feeling she could read his thoughts. See the bitterness in his heart. “In that case, Mr. Cady, perhaps you will accept my offer.”
She retrieved a handful of bills from within her reticule, piquinghis curiosity. What was she up to?
Miss Whittier laid the money on the table. “Fifty dollars, for now. Five hundred as soon as it’s available.”
Five
“A bribe?”
Daniel Cady stared at the folded bills as if she’d just laid a pile of rancid fish on the table. Sarah swallowed, her tongue sticking to the dry roof of her mouth. She would really enjoy one of those lemonades the waiter was carrying past on a silver tray. It was hardly the right time to stop and order one, as if she were at the Occidental on a friendly social visit.
“Not a bribe, Mr. Cady,” she replied, trying not to notice how hard his eyes had gone. When he’d first called to her, he’d almost seemed glad to see her. Not any longer. “A settlement against Josiah’s estate. Fifty now with five hundred to follow.”
He pushed the bills toward her, knocking a few onto the floor. “Five hundred dollars won’t satisfy me, Miss Whittier, when I stand to inherit property worth thousands. I don’t know what makes you think I would be happy to take a dime less.”
Sarah scrambled to retrieve the fifty dollars, the stays of her corset jabbing her ribs. “I was thinking you might not ever prove you’re actually
“‘Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows,’” she replied.
Shakespeare.
Well, there’s another surprise.
“Are you in misery?” “That rather depends on you, Mr. Cady.”
She swept past him, trailing the scent of rose water, and settled onto the chair across the table from his. Daniel understood why Josiah had taken to her. She might not be arrestingly lovely, but with her even features and a habit of looking people in the face, she was more appealing than most women Daniel knew.
Sarah placed her reticule on the table but forgot to remove her crocheted gloves. Nervous, then. Rightly so.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, retaking his seat.Undoubtedly she was there to beg him to part with enough of Josiah’s money so she could make her way until she found employment. He might be willing to give her a small amount—say, thirty or forty dollars. Any more would make him a sucker for a pretty face. As bad as Josiah.
“The Occidental is a first-rate hotel, Mr. Cady. Better than where I thought you might be staying.” Her gaze slipped to the cuffs of his shirt. Looking for signs of wear, he supposed. “But in spite of appearances, I’d guess you are used to fine accommodations, since you’re the grandson of Addison Hunt of Chicago and your arrival in town warrants a mention in today’s
Daily Alta
. An announcement that saved me from having to hunt all over the city for you.”
So that was how she had found him. “I am indeed related to Addison Hunt.” Somehow. It was a mystery to Daniel how a man so cruel could’ve sired a daughter as gentle and loving as Grace Hunt Cady.
“What does he do?”
“He’s a railroad tycoon.”
“Then you can afford a room here, after all.” She tilted her head, showing off the curve of her neck above the lace trimming her collar. “Or maybe you’re counting on that inheritance to pay your bills.”
“I have enough money to pay my way, Miss Whittier, and the Occidental has affordable rooms, believe it or not.” A small reward after months of dusty boardinghouses and seedy rented lodgings. Besides, when he’d arrived in San Francisco he hadn’t been planning on staying long. “I hate to disappoint you by not occupying one of the hotel’s luxury suites, but my grandfather is the tycoon, not me.”
Sarah peered at him. Once again, he experienced the unsettling feeling she could read his thoughts. See the bitterness in his heart. “In that case, Mr. Cady, perhaps you will accept my offer.”
She retrieved a handful of bills from within her reticule, piquinghis curiosity. What was she up to?
Miss Whittier laid the money on the table. “Fifty dollars, for now. Five hundred as soon as it’s available.”
Five
“A bribe?”
Daniel Cady stared at the folded bills as if she’d just laid a pile of rancid fish on the table. Sarah swallowed, her tongue sticking to the dry roof of her mouth. She would really enjoy one of those lemonades the waiter was carrying past on a silver tray. It was hardly the right time to stop and order one, as if she were at the Occidental on a friendly social visit.
“Not a bribe, Mr. Cady,” she replied, trying not to notice how hard his eyes had gone. When he’d first called to her, he’d almost seemed glad to see her. Not any longer. “A settlement against Josiah’s estate. Fifty now with five hundred to follow.”
He pushed the bills toward her, knocking a few onto the floor. “Five hundred dollars won’t satisfy me, Miss Whittier, when I stand to inherit property worth thousands. I don’t know what makes you think I would be happy to take a dime less.”
Sarah scrambled to retrieve the fifty dollars, the stays of her corset jabbing her ribs. “I was thinking you might not ever prove you’re actually
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