Zachary shoved Elizabeth behind him, cursing himself for being caught unaware.
“Thank God, we found you before the wagging tongues ruined your reputation,” her mother said, her skin flushed and her mouth pulled tight. She reached behind Zachary and yanked her daughter from the alcove.
Zachary moved a step toward Elizabeth.
Elizabeth shook her head, straining against her mother’s cruel grip as she was dragged from the library. “I’ve done nothing to be ashamed, Mother.” She turned her head, beseeching Zachary.Do not do anything.
Edward Spencer’s harsh glare fell on Zachary. “I have invested heavily in you.” The financial baron let the threat coil over and strangle him. The banker would pull his financing. His company and dreams destroyed. “My daughter is from a different element of society, a society in which—you are not worthy.”
Small black magpie eyes glared up at Zachary. The beefy, red-faced financial bully, drunk with wealth and power, whobawled orders to stock markets, directors, courts, governments, and nations had spoken. Tread carefully. One misstep might find Zachary floating in the Graniteville swamps.
“I want your promise as a gentleman to stay away from my daughter. She has been through a lot.”
Zachary’s hands fisted with the remembrance of the man’s cruelty. How Elizabeth was sent away in shame for a misfortune out of her control. That the man didn’t seem to have a care that his daughter almost drowned or could have died in childbirth as long as she didn’t tarnish the family’s reputation. Most reprehensible was the fact that she was denied her child.
“Financing is paramount to a new entrepreneur. Without it, the venture could be fatal,” Spencer emphasized, mistakenly ascertaining Zachary’s hesitation.
A vein throbbed in Zachary’s neck from the veiled threat. Bedecked in her alluring gown, but most importantly, her confession. It made him hurt to see her face so ravaged by emotion. It was an impossibility for him to stay away from her. But stay away from her, he must. Her father was right. She was beyond Zachary, from a different world. A world he had yet to prove himself in and may never prove himself. She must marry within her class, and for all the good things life might afford her.
Zachary nodded his assent.
Why did bile burn his throat?
The gods were not inclined to let him be, leaving the goddess, Elizabeth, to weave her enchantment.
But his rational mind echoed with loud and clanging warnings.
Chapter Eighteen
No one was at breakfast. Good. Elizabeth could eat in peace. Still reeling and angered from the embarrassing encounter at the ball, Elizabeth wished herself deceased, hidden beneath a nameless headstone in some unknown church cemetery forever.
Dyer cornered her at the breakfast buffet.
“Why are you here?” She could not look up. How her mother had snatched her from Zachary, called for the Spencer carriage, leaving immediately and leaving everything to wild speculation.
“Waiting for your father. We are going to look at a stretch of land north on the Hudson.” He was quiet for a moment, and then spoke. “Elizabeth, as your closest ally and friend, you must not take interest in the cowboy. I see him as a fortune hunter. A man prone to wandering with no roots.”
Elizabeth thumped a piece of bacon on her plate. “Is that what you think?”
“I’ve been in business for years. Have built an empire. I know men. I know drifters and I know money-grubbers. There are rumors circulating. You don’t want to disappoint your father by condescending to the company of a cowpoke or tarnishing your reputation. Most of all, I don’t want to see you hurt.”
The guilt her family and now Rawlins laid on her shoulders. Like rust upon iron, defiled, consumed, gnawing, and creeping into it until it ate out the heart of the metal. She was tired of being told what to do, who to talk to, and what to say. She must break free of her cage.
“I’m a grown woman and can make my own decisions.” Was that her talking? She sounded like a petulant child when Rawlins had done so much for her.
He seated her at the table, leaned over, and whispered huskily into her ear. “There are some men who may wish to defile you, Elizabeth.”
She snapped her head around. Gone was the benevolent aged uncle replaced by what? Longing? Desire? Lust? Too much to be interpreted in a specific emotion. His regard vanished as quickly as it appeared into the smooth veneer of a knowing uncle. She turned her face to her plate and cleared her throat. What if Rawlins Dyer was more complicated than she had thought? Was he projecting shame on her for something he had done? Elizabeth resisted the urge to rub her temples and watched him procure a cup of coffee from the sideboard.
She glanced about the room. Nothing seemed out of place. Deep inside she knew something was very, very wrong. She shivered. Cold rattled into her bones. Shadows. Dark, dizzying shadows.
The murky memory like a pillow of glass shards. The more she squeezed, the more it cut. She shook her head to dispel what had come over her. Maybe she was crazy.
He took the chair beside her. “I support your work at the orphanage and applaud your goodwill for it. If you persist with the cowboy, your father and mother may forbid you to go there. Regardless, know that I will support you.”
Her stomach twisted with a nauseating wave. Was Rawlins manipulating her? Applauding her, then threatening to takewhat she treasured the most. A roar of waves crashed overhead. Big fish eat little fish. Hadn’t Rawlins done this his entire life to obtain his wealth? Had she overlooked his machinations for his friendship? To speak mere portions of truth to deceive. A true craftsman of destruction.
Rawlins pulled out a pair of spectacles, put them on, and then proceeded to study the contents of the newspaper. His expression made her think of a weasel examining freshly laid eggs in a chicken coop.
