Scoundrel for Hire (Velvet Lies, Book 1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Adrienne deWolfe
cheek to pinch, and I couldn't be happier.
"'Sides," he patted her arm consolingly, "you don't need me in Leadville like Cellie needs me here. You know all the things that can go wrong when you're digging underground. Cellie says Nahele won't give up his treasure without a fight. That's why the men keep hearing moaning."
So that's what Cellie says, eh? Well, what would Cellie know?
Silver blew out her breath. Anyone with a modicum of scientific knowledge would understand that settling timbers groan. The miners were hearing the shifting beams above their heads, not the moaning of ghosts. How dare that pestilential nuisance spread rumors that Silver's Mine was haunted?
Obviously Celestia didn't have the slightest concept of what a strike would do to production—not to mention the fortune she was plotting to marry. The hardrock stiffs were already grumbling about their three-dollar wage, saying the miners at the Comstock Lode were getting paid four dollars a day.
Of course, the miners in Nevada were also working under unbearable conditions, Silver thought a tad righteously. She, on the other hand, had done her very best to protect her men from the gruesome accidents and tragic deaths that had made the Comstock infamous.
But that was another matter entirely. Damn Celestia Cooper. The woman knew very well how much this day—this outing—meant to Silver. The quack also knew how hard Silver was trying to get rid of her. Celestia had concocted the whole ghost melodrama, of course, so Silver couldn't get Papa alone long enough to bend his ear with the mounting evidence against her.
And in the polite vernacular, that meant war.
"Papa, I am deeply concerned about this dig you're undertaking." No doubt Celestia is using it as an excuse to poke around our richest vein.
However, Silver knew better than to point this fact out. Papa would get that glazed look in his eye, nod politely, and not hear a blessed word she said. Over the last six months, he'd resisted every reasonable entreaty to unburden himself of his fiancée. Maximillian Nichols was the kind of man who saw a rose long after the bloom had withered. His refusal to recognize failings in any person, place, or thing was one of his most endearing—and most vexing—characteristics.
And right now, Silver was vexed.
"In light of recent information I've received," she continued briskly, "I'm not sure you would be safe underground."
Already looking longingly toward the door, Papa swiveled his head back toward her. She was gratified to know she could still capture enough of his attention to keep him from walking out of her life.
"Safe?" he echoed, the miner in him no doubt pricking up his ears.
"Yes, Papa. Whether or not there really is a king's ransom worth of buried treasure—"
"Oh, but there is, daughter. Cellie stakes her reputation on it."
Silver swallowed a less than gracious retort. Papa was obsessed with Nahele's treasure because he hoped it would lead to the so-called City of Gold. Recently, treasure seemed to be the only thing he cared about. That and Celestia, of course.
"Yes, well—" Silver cleared her throat "—I must strongly advise you to rethink your plan to dynamite anything."
"What do you mean?"
Silver squared her shoulders, ignoring a momentary pang of remorse. What she knew about Celestia's past was going to hurt him. "Papa," she began again, choosing her words as judiciously as her own hurt would allow, "Celestia is not the best companion you could have on a mining expedition. The danger to yourself and to others would be prohibitive."
"Well..." His brows knitted. "It's true she isn't as knowledgeable about mining safety as you are but—"
"Papa—" Silver struggled with her impatience. Would he never open his eyes? "Celestia is an arsonist."
He blinked owl-like at her.
In the eternity of silence that dragged by, guilt had plenty of time to needle her. She blushed. She fidgeted. She decided she should never have been so blunt. God forgive
"'Sides," he patted her arm consolingly, "you don't need me in Leadville like Cellie needs me here. You know all the things that can go wrong when you're digging underground. Cellie says Nahele won't give up his treasure without a fight. That's why the men keep hearing moaning."
So that's what Cellie says, eh? Well, what would Cellie know?
Silver blew out her breath. Anyone with a modicum of scientific knowledge would understand that settling timbers groan. The miners were hearing the shifting beams above their heads, not the moaning of ghosts. How dare that pestilential nuisance spread rumors that Silver's Mine was haunted?
Obviously Celestia didn't have the slightest concept of what a strike would do to production—not to mention the fortune she was plotting to marry. The hardrock stiffs were already grumbling about their three-dollar wage, saying the miners at the Comstock Lode were getting paid four dollars a day.
Of course, the miners in Nevada were also working under unbearable conditions, Silver thought a tad righteously. She, on the other hand, had done her very best to protect her men from the gruesome accidents and tragic deaths that had made the Comstock infamous.
But that was another matter entirely. Damn Celestia Cooper. The woman knew very well how much this day—this outing—meant to Silver. The quack also knew how hard Silver was trying to get rid of her. Celestia had concocted the whole ghost melodrama, of course, so Silver couldn't get Papa alone long enough to bend his ear with the mounting evidence against her.
And in the polite vernacular, that meant war.
"Papa, I am deeply concerned about this dig you're undertaking." No doubt Celestia is using it as an excuse to poke around our richest vein.
However, Silver knew better than to point this fact out. Papa would get that glazed look in his eye, nod politely, and not hear a blessed word she said. Over the last six months, he'd resisted every reasonable entreaty to unburden himself of his fiancée. Maximillian Nichols was the kind of man who saw a rose long after the bloom had withered. His refusal to recognize failings in any person, place, or thing was one of his most endearing—and most vexing—characteristics.
And right now, Silver was vexed.
"In light of recent information I've received," she continued briskly, "I'm not sure you would be safe underground."
Already looking longingly toward the door, Papa swiveled his head back toward her. She was gratified to know she could still capture enough of his attention to keep him from walking out of her life.
"Safe?" he echoed, the miner in him no doubt pricking up his ears.
"Yes, Papa. Whether or not there really is a king's ransom worth of buried treasure—"
"Oh, but there is, daughter. Cellie stakes her reputation on it."
Silver swallowed a less than gracious retort. Papa was obsessed with Nahele's treasure because he hoped it would lead to the so-called City of Gold. Recently, treasure seemed to be the only thing he cared about. That and Celestia, of course.
"Yes, well—" Silver cleared her throat "—I must strongly advise you to rethink your plan to dynamite anything."
"What do you mean?"
Silver squared her shoulders, ignoring a momentary pang of remorse. What she knew about Celestia's past was going to hurt him. "Papa," she began again, choosing her words as judiciously as her own hurt would allow, "Celestia is not the best companion you could have on a mining expedition. The danger to yourself and to others would be prohibitive."
"Well..." His brows knitted. "It's true she isn't as knowledgeable about mining safety as you are but—"
"Papa—" Silver struggled with her impatience. Would he never open his eyes? "Celestia is an arsonist."
He blinked owl-like at her.
In the eternity of silence that dragged by, guilt had plenty of time to needle her. She blushed. She fidgeted. She decided she should never have been so blunt. God forgive
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