“That day on the riverbank…I was thinking of ending my life. To save me from the shame of it. I had hit rock bottom. I had no strength to go on, black days passed and unaccounted for. Crying did no good, for I had emptied everything inside me. There were no colors, only a shrouding veil of gray and cold to bind me prisoner. When you waved to me, the riverbank gave way. I thought nature had provided the answer.”
He held her tighter to curb her shaking. To think that this lovely woman harbored such guilt.
“On the descent, my baby kicked. I wanted to live. I had to live. Icy water sucked me beneath and rang victorious as my tombstone. The shoreline had become a figment, as if the world had evaporated. And then you were there, pulling me back into the world.”
“The worst thing is that my parents never believed my innocence. I can never live down my mother’s scorn or my father’s dubious pity.”
Pain shimmered deep in his heart, blending with fury. In the waning light, he kept her in his arms, safe and free from hurt.
Stillness filled the room and covered them like a great warm quilt. Everything was transfixed only the light of the setting sun moved. Silence was pure. Silence was holy. Silence emerged true wisdom to be found.
To hold her in his arms and be comfortable with each other without declarations. Words spoken would be useless and fracture the peace. Zachary sighed and nuzzled his chin into her hair with the mystery.
For this moment, she was his. He’d saved her life, delivered her child. Providence had connected them again. Like islands in the sea, they were different on the surface, but those invisible threads entwined in the deep.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Zachary passed a flower seller and stood in front of Dyer’s full-block mansion. The looming edifice engulfed Zachary in its shadow with its immense large gables and chimneys cluttering the roofs.
The butler waved Zachary in, and he stood in an enormous entrance hall beneath a gigantic crystal-cut chandelier. The floor was of black and white tile squares and the house seemed cold, almost enough to see his breath despite the warmness of the season. Close on the butler’s heels, Zachary followed through a succession of dark corridors lit with gas jets, setting a cadaverous glow and grotesque shadows. A fitting setting for Dyer. Why didn’t Zachary bring a stake to put through the man’s heart?
In his office, Rawlins Dyer sat behind an enormous mahogany desk, hands arrogantly folded over his stomach, cigar clenched between his gleaming teeth, eyes mere slits of condescension. “We’ll dispense with formalities, Mr. Rourke. Take a seat.”
“I prefer to stand.” Zachary wished to terminate the oil tycoon’s summons as soon as possible. On the wall behind Dyer’s head was a bronze plaque with the engraving,ViaPecuniae emere est cum sanguis in plateis currit.Latin for “The way to make money is to buy when blood is running in the streets.” How appropriate.
“Humor me and tell me that you have come to pay off your debt.” Dyer grinned like a schoolboy who had glutted himself on a treat.
One of Chen’s philosophies came to mind.Skeletons of mice are often to be found in coconuts, for it is easier to get in, slim and greedy, than to get out, appeased and fat.
“Hurry along, I’m a man secure in the knowledge that I hold all the power in this negotiation.” No mistaking his pallid narrow face expressed benevolent malice.
“Sorry to disappoint you. I have not failed despite your attempts to bankrupt me. The theft, slowing my deliveries, wrecking my factory, exploiting my customers. The fraudulent bookkeeper your man recommended, I fired.”
Dyer leaned forward and tugged the cigar from his mouth. “I see that Elizabeth’s fiancé, the duke cried off. Her parents are up in arms. Something about a scuffle at the opera?”
Zachary remained silent, refusing to be baited. Elizabeth merited so much more than the man child.
Dyer might have grimaced had he not been so accustomed to tense negotiations. Zachary could see it lingering there in his expression. Beneath his walrus mustache, the corners of his mouth turned downward a slight degree. His lifeless eyes, the irises like cast iron and completely filmy and cloudy, as to convey the eyes of a long-interred corpse. Elizabeth was the entire crux of this meeting The man desired her.
A hollow opened in Zachary’s belly. He did not like the direction of the conversation. Dyer was a shrewd man. When he desired something, he obtained it by whatever means. Was Elizabeth in danger? Would he destroy her reputation?
Dyer was no fool. Nor was Dyer surprised to see Elizabeth when he’d come to gloat about the destruction at Zachary’s factory. Dyer had informants, knew Elizabeth had spent an inordinate amount of time with Zachary. The same gleam in Dyer’s eyes appeared when he mentioned her name.Lust. Jealousy. Desire.Something deeper, more insidious played out, subtle but there none the same. Zachary had met men like Dyer. The man possessed sordid appetites. Elizabeth was an innocent and needed protection. She must never fall prey to a man with Dyer’s inclinations.
Zachary snorted. “Your misplaced attention to my company is noted.”
Dyer grinned, and the oxblood leather creaked as he leaned back in his chair, straining the springs. “Whatever do you mean? I hope personal feelings will not get in the way of your little project.”
Zachary clenched his jaw so hard his molars ached. In his mind, Rawlins Dyer had far exceeded the foulest work of God’s creation. If he had any regrets, it was not having the opportunity to draw a gun on him. A beneficial endeavor, he mused, beneficial as for the welfare of humanity. The difficulty lay in the opportunity. In any case, the idea had merit.
Dyer sniffed. “People grow up and then they see what is best for them.” A note of consolation had crept into Dyer’s voice. The hair on the back of Zachary’s neck bristled.
Zachary smiled. “You are very intelligent and loyal to Miss Spencer. I happen to have discernment. The undercard was thrown too soon.”
The leviathan’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “I don’t understand.”
“The meaning is that there are no tricks left. Carefully designed unintentional utterances do not collect the intended effect.”
Dyer stared at him. “Are you referring to do further business with me?
