Into the Bright Unknown (The Gold Seer Trilogy #3)(43)

She notices me first and whispers in his ear. My heart rocks in my chest as Hardwick says something to everyone at the table. In response, the other gamblers gather their coins and stand. Staring quietly at me, they disperse to other tables.

One fellow pauses to smile. “A pleasure to see you again,” he says. “Still golden, I hope.”

It’s the governor of California, and the pleasure is all his. I met him once before, at the Christmas ball in Sacramento, when all the tall tales about the Golden Goddess were spinning around. If they’re still spinning, I’m in a heap of trouble.

But the governor tips his hat and moves on without another word. I breathe relief.

Hardwick beckons, and I stride over and sit like it’s the most natural, normal thing in the world. I open my purse and set my coins on the table while the dealer shuffles the cards.

Miss Russell seats herself on his left, slightly behind him, with one gloved hand slipped through his arm. Perfect for leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

Hardwick watches me the way a cat watches a bird’s nest in an apple tree. “How would you like to come work for me, Miss Westfall?”

My heart hammers in my throat, and the air suddenly seems a bit thin because all I can think is He knows. He knows what I can do.

After too long a pause, I manage to say, “Doing what?”

He takes a sip of whiskey, then wipes his mustache with a handkerchief. “I’m not sure. I admit, I don’t quite have you figured out.”

Well, that’s a mercy.

“But you keep showing up in the most interesting places,” he continues, “and it’s clear that you have some ability for accumulating resources.”

So maybe he doesn’t know after all. I try to keep the relief from my face. “In other words, you’ve determined that I have some gold, and you’d like to take a portion of it.”

His sudden laugh is surprising for how genuine it seems. “No one acquires gold by accident,” he says, eyes twinkling. “I have gold, you have gold. There’s a chance that both of us could acquire a lot more gold by working together. How do you want to bet?”

The dealer has turned up a pair of cards. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to play. You’ll have to teach me.”

Hardwick makes a small circular motion with his finger, and the dealer reshuffles the cards. “This game is called Spanish monte,” Hardwick says. “The rules are simple, and it’s almost impossible to cheat.”

I only half listen to Hardwick’s instructions, because Miss Russell is peering at me in the most peculiar way, like she’s seeing through me, or beyond me, and—most disconcerting of all—her irises are saturated with a deep shade of violet.

I could have sworn her eyes were blue.

The dealer lays down two cards, a two of hearts to his right and a jack of diamonds to his left. He places the remaining stack of cards between them.

“And now we bet,” Hardwick says, tossing a fifty-dollar coin onto the jack.

I toss a coin onto the deuce, determined to ignore Miss Russell’s violet gaze.

Hardwick makes the go-ahead motion again. The dealer turns over a seven of hearts. “The young lady wins,” he says.

“The odds change as he works his way through the deck,” Hardwick says. “Someone who pays close attention can increase their chances of winning after a few hands.”

The dealer deals, and again I choose the card that Hardwick doesn’t. This time I lose, but so does Hardwick, and both our coins get taken. “I should have quit while I was ahead.”

“That’s the trick, isn’t it?” Hardwick says. “To exit the game when you’re at your peak? But you’re young. You’re just learning how the game’s played, and you’ve barely started.”

I’m not sure we’re still talking about gambling. “What about all the people who never get ahead enough to quit?”

“That’s their problem, isn’t it?” he says. From behind him, Helena Russell reaches for his whiskey, takes a sip, sets the glass back on the table. Hardwick doesn’t seem to notice or care. “But that doesn’t apply to you or me. Your friend Tom is a very good lawyer.”

If he’s trying to throw me by changing the subject abruptly, it might be working, because I lose on the next hand, and Hardwick wins. “I’m not sure I would recommend him,” I say. “He only negotiated the one contract for me, and I thought it was airtight, but it turns out there’s no way to enforce it.”

“Sometimes that’s a temporary problem, with the system, not with the contract. I was just talking with the governor and with California’s new senator. They seem to think that when statehood becomes official—in a few more months, maybe a year at most—we’ll have the rule of law here, as strict as any state in the nation, with honest judges, and checks and balances, and all the other trappings of civilization.”

I can’t tell if he finds the prospect appealing or not. “I didn’t realize you had so much respect for the law.”

This draws another belly laugh. “I respect the laws so much I want to make them,” he says. “Your bet.”

Hearts come up again, and it’s been several deals since I saw them, so I toss two coins down, and this time I win. One hundred dollars, just like that.