Page 50 of Part of Your World

His father leaned backward and sputtered. "It wasn't theft. It was a renegotiation. One I did to protect you. You and your mother."

"From what?" Zane pressed. "From what might happen if the truth came out about your business practices? Mother told me about the secret. About how it would ruin you." She'd given him no specifics, but he'd imagined several possible scenarios. Manipulating the market to ensure greater profit. Falsification of records. Forged receipts. Dishonest weighing of cotton shipments. A broker in a position of power could engage in any or all of those practices with few repercussions. Unless someone produced evidence of his guilt. "Sounds to me like you were protecting yourself."

"Easy to sit in judgment when the chair's cushioned and comfortable." Father raised a single brow, his scorn palpable. "Who do you think gave you this comfortable life?" He thumped his chest with the journal. "I did. Your education, your exposure to the architecture of Europe, even your apprenticeship with Nicholas Clayton—none of it would have happened without my provision. Black and white might work for your ink drawings, but the business world operates in shades of gray. Right and wrong is a matter of perspective."

Zane shook his head. "Calling wrong right doesn't make it so."

Though learning of past wrongs tainted the right he'd enjoyed. He'd profited from his father's dishonesty. The house he lived in, the schools he attended, the connections that led to his apprenticeship. All fruit from a rotted tree. Zane prayed the Lord would redeem his ill-gotten gains and use them for good. He'd have to be cut away and grafted into a new tree, though. One with godly roots.

Muriel's hand slipped around Zane's arm, and a bit of sunshine returned to banish the gloom brought on by his father's cold-heartedness.

"Please, Mr. Erickson," she said. "I need that journal. If I don't return it to Mrs. Underhill, she's gonna hurt me da and me sister. Ye can remove the pages pertainin' to yer own situation. I have no desire to see anyone in yer family suffer, either."

Father grunted. "How generous of you. But what about the other families? Do you wish to see them suffer?" He looked back to Zane. "The Trimbles are in here. Did you know that? Is the blackmail of Max's parents acceptable to you?"

"Of course not." Now Zane was the one sputtering.

Max? He'd mentioned something about his mother seeking a matchmaker for him, but Zane had failed to put two and two together.

"Where's your black and white morality now? Is aiding an extortionist acceptable if it helps one person and hurts dozens of others?"

"It's not the same." It wasn't, was it? "Those people surrendered their secrets willingly, knowing the consequences. Muriel's family did nothing to earn Mrs. Underhill's retribution."

Father smiled, and Zane's stomach soured.

"Your little lady friend there made an agreement with Mrs. Underhill, though, didn't she? In order to get her hooks into you. So she's as guilty as anyone else in this book. Why help her and not the others?"

No answer jumped to Zane's mind.

His father's smile grew. "Gray areas. Maybe you're more like me than either of us thought."

Muriel moved out from behind Zane. "The agreement I made with Mrs. Underhill only entailed her revealin' me true background and shamin' meself if I failed to return her journal. It had nothin' to do with framin' me da or me sister's husband for crimes they didn't commit. That's what be different, Mr. Erickson. She changed the deal and is threatenin' folks with no connection to her at all. If the consequences would only fall on me, I'd take them as me due. But it's not right for me da and brother-in-law to pay a price they ne'er agreed to."

Father clicked his tongue as he wagged his head. "So naïve. You didn't really expect to swim with a shark and not get bitten, did you? At least I had a plan. First, I ensured all evidence of our family secrets were burned to ash, then I hedged my bets by rigging the game. A little financial inducement bought the cooperation of her butler and ensured the journal ended up in my hands. Finally, I gave Mrs. Underhill a taste of her own medicine. Find my son a suitable bride or I'd expose her schemes and release her clients from their financial responsibilities. And since you are completely unsuitable," he said with a disdainful glance at Muriel that made Zane grind his molars, "it seems it's time to hold up my end of the bargain. I think the Galveston Daily News will find this little book quite interesting, don't you? They might even pay a tidy fee to purchase it from me."

"So all that talk about protecting the secrets of the people in that book was just a . . . a ruse? You plan to sell them?" Unbelievable! He'd known his father could be a ruthless businessman, but had his conscience really become so hardened that he would choose profit over human decency?

He smiled. Actually smiled. As if he were proud of himself. "Anonymously, of course. I'll broker the deal through a third party. No need for anyone to learn how the journal came to be discovered." The smile flattened and his eyes narrowed. "That woman never should have involved herself in my affairs."

Zane fell back a step, nausea stirring his stomach. "You're as much a villain as she is," he murmured.

Father shrugged, making no effort to deny the charge.

The horrifying truth brought new clarity to Zane's mind. He'd never take a cent from his father again. He'd move out of this house at once, live off his apprentice salary. It would mean forgoing the finer things, but he'd never cared much for fancy clothes or expensive furnishings anyway. He did like having a cook, but maybe Muriel would take pity on him and invite him to supper a few times a week. If she still allowed him to court her.

"There's no reason for the coming scandal to touch you, son." Father waved dismissively at Muriel. "Let her sort her own problems. She's lied and manipulated you from the beginning. You owe her nothing."

"I owe her my life. Or did you forget where and how this relationship began? She pulled me from the Gulf and manipulated my lungs into breathing again." Zane trudged around the desk and put his face an inch from his father's. "From the beginning, Muriel has revealed herself to be a caring and courageous woman. Her only misstep came in heeding the advice of a sea snake. I'll not make the same mistake by heeding yours. Now give me that journal, and let us be done with this."

Zane clasped the edge of the leather cover, but his father jerked it away and backed toward the door. He pointed the rolled-up notebook at Zane like a wagging finger.

"You marry that girl, and you're done with this family. I'll cut you off. You'll not see a penny of my money."

Was the man so blind, he thought money was their only connection? A pang hit Zane's heart. Maybe it was.

"Now that I know how you make your money," Zane said, "I'm going to cut myself off. I'll live on what I make working for Mr. Clayton."

"Fool!" Father spat. "You think she'll have you without my money? That's all a woman like her cares about."