“I know he can. He’s been reading law books since he was twelve.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “And even if there are legal complications, Rose—you’re not going back to that life. Whatever it takes.”
A shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with the evening chill. The absolute certainty in his voice stirred something she’d thought Vincent had killed years ago—the belief that someone might actually fight for her.
Letting out the breath of fear, she gave a nod. “All right. If you’re sure you want to try.”
CHAPTER 9
The sound of the three hired men leaving the house to settle into the barn for the night had barely faded when James cleared his throat and looked around the dining room table. “Before we all turn in, I think we need to have a family meeting.”
Mrs. Wang stood and began gathering the empty plates from dinner. “I clean up the kitchen?—”
“Actually.” He raised a hand to halt her. “We’d like you to take part, if you would. This concerns Rose, and she’s going to need all of us.”
The older woman paused, a stack of plates balanced in her weathered hands, and looked between James and Rose with those sharp eyes. Whatever she saw made her set the dishes back down with a soft clink.
“Of course.” She settled back into her chair, folding her hands in her lap with her usual quiet dignity. “Rose is family.”
His sentiment exactly.
Enoch leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze moving between James and Rose. “What kind of trouble are we talking about?”
James looked at Rose, waiting for her permission. They’d talked about this on the porch—the need to tell everyone at least the basic details. This way, they could best protect her, and also, they could work together to break Vincent’s control over her permanently.
She’d been hesitant, though she’d agreed. Now, she gave a barely perceptible nod, but her shoulders had gone rigid again.
He turned back to the others, choosing his words with care. “Rose is being pursued by a man named Vincent Dunhill from Virginia City. He’s posted missing person notices offering a fifty-dollar reward for information about her whereabouts.”
Thomas whistled low. “Fifty dollars? That’s serious money.”
Robert studied her. “What’s his connection to you, Rose?”
Rose’s hands clenched in her lap, her knuckles white against the blue fabric of her skirt.
“He was my stepfather,” she said finally, her voice almost too soft to hear. “Mama married him after we left here. When she became ill, he paid for everything. Even…” She swallowed hard, the delicate lines of her throat working against whatever words were trying to escape. “The funeral expenses.”
Mrs. Wang made a soft sound of sympathy, her face creasing with concern.
“In return.” Rose’s voice gained a little strength. “I signed a contract. Twenty years of performances. Until I’m thirty-five.”
This was too painful, making her answer the questions. He could relay the basic information his family needed. Part of him wanted to close his hand over her clenched ones, anything to help settle her. To let her know she was safe here. But she looked like even that touch might crack her.
At least he could take over the weight of the explanation. “Vincent has used the contract to control her. To basically keep her prisoner. She sneaked away to come to us, but now he’s looking for her. Rose said he has a lot of connections, men who will help accomplish what he wants, even if it’s not quite lawful.” He met each of his brothers’ gazes in turn. “We’ll need to protect her, and we’ll need to figure out how to break that contract for good.”
The silence that followed felt heavy, charged with the kind of tension that preceded mountain storms. Thomas’s easy smile had faded. Mandie’s hand covered her belly. Enoch’s jaw tightened with controlled anger.
Robert leaned forward, his lawyer’s mind already working. “A twenty-year contract signed by a fifteen-year-old?” His voice carried a sharp edge. “Rose, do you have a copy of this document?”
She shook her head. “Vincent kept all the papers in his office. He said it was safer that way.”
“Of course he did.” Robert’s tone turned grim. “Rose, I need you to understand something. A contract signed by a minor under duress—especially one involving twenty years of labor—that’s not just unenforceable, no legitimate court would uphold such a thing.”
Hope flickered in Rose’s green eyes, fragile as candlelight in a draft. But it was quickly shadowed by fear. “Vincent has friends in the territorial government. Judges, lawyers, men who owe him favors. He’s made that very clear over the years. He says the law will always side with him.”
Enoch leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “He’s not the only one with connections. Our father is the Duke of Clarence, distant cousin of Queen Victoria. I know that’s in England and this is America, but we still have a long list of people in the Montana Territory and beyond who would be more than willing to listen to the facts of the case, especially when their attention is requested by the Duke of Clarence or one of his sons.”
Rose straightened, and something that looked almost like hope crossed her features. “You’re titled aristocracy.” She spoke as though testing the words. “I’d forgotten.”
“Most people out here have.” Enoch’s smile held a hint of irony. “But the connections remain. Vincent Dunhill may have territorial judges in his pocket, but he doesn’t have access to federal courts. Or to the kind of legal minds we can call on.”
