6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
L izzie pulled on her gloves as she headed to the front door, ready to walk to work.
“Stop right there.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath at the sound of her aunt’s voice.
“Where are you going at this time of morning?” her aunt asked as soon as she’d caught up to her.
“Out for a walk.”
“By yourself? You should be taking your maid as a chaperone,” her aunt scoffed, then sneered. “Why doesn’t this surprise me?” Her aunt shook her head. “You have a nasty habit of disappearing every day.”
“I would think you’d like seeing less of me.” Her aunt never had a kind word to say to her. She’d never directed a smile her way.
“Well, today, you must stay home,” her aunt informed her as she headed back down the hall.
“Why?”
“Because the modiste is coming here for your ball gown fitting.”
Lizzie’s stomach sank. If that were the case, her aunt would stand firm in keeping her home. She would need to get word to Byron that she wouldn’t be at work today. “Why didn’t you tell me I had a fitting?”
“I’m telling you now,” her aunt flung back over her shoulder as Uncle Eldon entered the hallway.
“Lizzie, listen to your aunt. She’s been working hard setting up this ball for you.”
Her aunt strode into the dining room, her way of ending the discussion.
Lizzie removed her gloves and approached her uncle, who stood just outside the dining room. “You know I don’t want, nor did I agree to, this ball.”
“It will allow you to meet new people.”
New people? “You mean suitors Aunt has personally chosen.”
Her uncle’s brows drew low. “Those suitors are more appropriate for you to meet than Byron Greeley.”
Lizzie’s breath caught, and her skin prickled. “What do you mean?”
“It seems you’ve been seeing quite a lot of him lately.”
How did he know that? Was he having her followed?
“Ever since he broke into our house, I’ve had someone watching him,” he clarified as if he knew her thoughts. “My man has seen you enter the Greeley & Company building on several occasions. I’ve been informed that you work there.”
Lizzie tensed. “That’s correct. Mr. Greeley has given me a job.”
“You don’t need to work,” he growled, no doubt quite tired of repeating himself.
“I want to make my own money.”
His eyes flashed a steely blue. “I’ve already told you to stay away from Greeley, and I expect you to listen. Quit your job.”
“No. I will not.”
Her aunt appeared in the doorway. “Once she’s married, this won’t be an issue. Come have breakfast.”
Uncle Eldon’s stare bored into Lizzie for a moment longer before he nodded and followed her aunt into the dining room.
Lizzie stepped into the parlor and stood before a long cheval mirror that had been set there. Her new gown was beyond her expectations. Royal blue with dark trim, the short-sleeved dress was simple yet elegant, modest but not overly so. The color suited her much better than any other gown given to her by her aunt. It enhanced the red of her hair and brought out the blue in her eyes. Speechless, she stared at her reflection.
“You’re the spitting image of your mother,” her aunt spat before glancing at the shocked expression of the modiste. “God rest her soul,” she added and took a sip of her tea.
Her aunt must really want her gone to dress her so well this time. No more using Lizzie for sympathy, pointing to her niece as the bane of her existence. This time Aunt Margaret would make Lizzie as attractive to potential suitors and their families as she could. If it meant Lizzie would be married and gone, her aunt would do whatever it took.
Aunt Margaret joined the modiste who was pinning and adjusting the dress. Aunt pinched the material at Lizzie’s waist. “This should be taken in another half inch.”
“Yes, of course,” the middle-aged modiste agreed.
Aunt Margaret gestured to a spot near Lizzie’s waist. “Maybe an embroidered rose here, and here.”
As her aunt took care to have the gown altered just so, Lizzie could almost imagine that their relationship wasn’t so contentious. Since her aunt didn’t have children of her own, some would think she’d have welcomed Lizzie into their home. Sadly, that hadn’t been the case.
Her mother had said she and Aunt Margaret had been close as children, but their relationship had deteriorated as adults. After Lizzie’s mother married a man her father hadn’t approved of, Aunt Margaret had turned her back on her sister like the rest. Only Uncle Eldon had refused to give up on Lizzie’s mother. After all, she’d been his wife’s sister. And Lizzie was their niece, no matter where she’d been born. She couldn’t help the circumstance in which she’d come into this world. The hostility her aunt had for her mother had nothing to do with her. She’d done nothing wrong.
“The bodice could be a bit lower,” her aunt told the modiste.
Lizzie glanced down at the scooped bodice. Her aunt had never let her wear something so daring before, and now she wanted her to bare even more skin?
If it meant she could attract a husband, yes, her aunt would have her attend the ball naked if need be.
A sudden chill brought gooseflesh to her skin. The ball would be a test of her patience and her skill in handling men. She didn’t doubt her skill. She’d dealt with all sorts when she’d lived in the brothel with her mother. Still, the thought of being on display like a pastry in the window of a bakery didn’t settle well. She suppressed a harsh laugh. Not even a pastry to be sold. Her husband-to-be would no doubt be paid a handsome sum to relieve her aunt of her burden.
Her aunt smacked Lizzie’s spine. “Stand up straight.”
While she didn’t have the power to stop this ball from happening, she could affect its outcome. She would see to it that none of her potential suitors wanted to marry her. She held back a smile. Byron would help. Or would he? He would have to be incredibly bold to show up to the event uninvited. Her aunt would be livid, and her uncle … He’d already warned her away from Byron, so he’d be angry as well. Even so, Byron would certainly offer a pleasant diversion to the dreaded event, and a part of her hoped he did make an appearance. The thought almost made this maddening situation bearable.
Lizzie scanned the area around her, wary of being followed, before stepping inside Eicherman’s Mercantile. Byron had sent her a message asking her to meet him here, and she’d sent one back warning him that someone might be following him. She wouldn’t be surprised if her uncle also had someone watching her to make sure she heeded his warning to stay clear of Byron.
The bell on the door jingled as she passed through, and she spied Byron near a far door in the back. His broad shoulders and tall frame were hard to miss. His dark suit was well-made as if tailored just for him, and it likely was. She wouldn’t be surprised if his sister made his clothes for him as handy as she was with a needle and thread. Even from this distance, he appeared handsome and strong. She couldn’t help admiring him. If she were honest, she’d looked forward to seeing him ever since she’d received his message, although the fact that they were meeting in secret was odd. Then again, she supposed it would be scandalous to meet out in the open as an unmarried couple, and her uncle certainly wouldn’t welcome Byron in his home.
Byron gazed toward the front of the store, and as soon as he saw her, his face lit up with a smile. Lizzie’s stomach fluttered, and she lost her breath at his reaction. He always seemed so happy to see her. He approached, and she met him in the middle of the store.
“Come, Lizzie. I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He escorted her to the back where an older man stood. “Mr. Eicherman, this is Miss Finn, the employee I was telling you about. Miss Finn is the person who embroidered the stockings I delivered to you today.”
Byron had told the store owner about her?
“Miss Finn, this is Mr. Eicherman, someone who admires your work.”
Mr. Eicherman smiled. “You’re very talented, Miss Finn. I’m sure your designs will be the first to sell.”
Pride swelled in her chest. Receiving compliments wasn’t something she was used to. “Thank you. I’m glad you like them.”
After a few more shared niceties, the owner was called away by a customer, and Byron ushered Lizzie to a quiet corner of the room. “Now to the reason I asked you to meet me.” Byron’s gaze swept the room before his attention returned to her. “Your uncle paid me a visit.”
“Oh no. What did he say?”
Byron frowned. “He knows you work for me, and he ordered me to fire you.”
Her shoulders drooped under the weight of her disappointment. “I can understand if you—”
“Which is why I think you should start doing your work at home. I’ve brought materials for you to take. They’re in the wagon. I’ll get them for you when we leave.” He scratched his head. “If embroidering at home under your uncle’s nose isn’t going to work, I could set up some space in our warehouse.” Byron pulled a small pouch from his pocket and pressed it into her hands. “This is the pay I owe you for your work so far.”
She stared down at the heavy pouch in her hands. “You’re not going to fire me? What if my uncle finds out?”
“Hopefully he won’t.”
Guilt pressed in, tightening her chest. “If he does, he could make your life miserable.”
Byron’s eyes met hers. “He’s already threatened to change my loan agreement again, to move up the date I’ll have to pay the principal.”
“No,” she whispered. “He told you that?”
“He did.”
Had it been simply a threat based on Byron’s prior accusations? Or had her hopes that Uncle Eldon was innocent of tampering with loans all been in vain? She studied Byron’s features. Would he lie? For what purpose? She didn’t have the power to change his loan agreement or to sway those who could. Her only use to him had been looking for proof of her uncle’s wrongdoing. But the thought that her uncle could do such a thing … It tore her up inside.
“I’m sorry.” She wished she could right her uncle’s wrongs against Byron. “Maybe it would be best if we did as he asked and stayed away from one another, so my uncle has no reason to hurt your company any more than he already has. I’ll quit my job, and—”
“No, that’s not what I want.”
“Why not? I’m one employee, and a fairly new one at that. I’m not worth the threat to your business.”
“I say you are.”
Excitement tickled her insides. Was she really so important to him?
His eyes sparkled with warmth and tenderness. “You have talent and a dream of being financially self-sufficient. I respect that, and I want to help you meet your goals.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, I promised you a job, and I intend to keep that promise.”
“My uncle …”
“His issue is with me and always has been. You’ve merely gotten caught in the middle.”
“What issue? I thought you didn’t know why he changed your loan.”
“I asked my father. Apparently, he and Teague had arranged a side deal. Your uncle agreed to give my father a loan on the condition that Greeley & Company lower our prices for the Howell & Harmon store.”
“Howell & Harmon? Why?”
Byron shook his head. “I don’t know, and my father never asked. He also forgot to tell me about the arrangement.” He grimaced. “When I noticed the discrepancy a couple of months ago, I didn’t hesitate to correct what looked to me like a mistake.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. I should have asked if there was a reason that the prices were reduced, but instead, I felt oh so good about myself for finding the error and fixing it.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her, his face flushed. “I took over the business only three months ago and look at where we are now.”
“You didn’t know. Anyone in your position would have done the same, and you’re certainly not to blame for someone changing your loan.”
Byron squeezed his eyes shut. “If my father were in charge, none of this would have happened.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” She reached out for his hand to comfort him in some small way but stopped herself from touching him. They were in public after all. “Don’t judge your abilities based on a situation that is out of your control.”
He released a sigh and met her gaze. “Easier said than done. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose the business my father has spent his life building.”
Her heart went out to him. “Trust me. Everything will be all right. I know from experience that when you’re at your lowest point in your life, somehow you manage to get through it, and eventually things get better.”
His expression changed to one of curiosity. “What was your lowest point? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“When my mother died.” Even five years later, sadness pulsed in her chest. Although they’d never been particularly close, losing her mother had been traumatic. She hadn’t only lost her mother, she’d also lost her protector. She’d fully expected Madam Maude to demand she do more than menial tasks for the brothel. “I had little money and nowhere to go until my uncle took me in.” Which was why it was so hard to think badly of Uncle Eldon. He’d saved her from a fate worse than death.
Of course, that didn’t mean he was perfect. He could have a bad side to him as well as a good side. What was his reason for tampering with Byron’s loan? For Howell & Harmon? How was he involved with them? Perhaps if she did another search of her uncle’s study, she’d find some clue that might lead her, and Byron, to the answers they sought.
Byron groaned and knocked his head against the inside wall of the hack he’d hired to follow Teague. What a waste of time and money. He’d been following Teague for days and had come up with nothing. If he weren’t so desperate for anything he could use against the man … Word was getting out that Greeley & Company was in trouble. Customers were beginning to cancel their orders, and a few employees had already quit.
Bryon ground his teeth until his jaw ached. No one knew about the loan situation except for him, Lizzie, and Teague. The bastard must be spreading the news. The hack stopped, and Byron peered out the window. Teague left his carriage and strode toward a building. Byron followed at a discreet distance. A few men and women mingled inside, the women in various stages of undress. A brothel? An ornately dressed woman approached Teague, welcoming him and ushering him up the stairs. She seemed to know him. Did he come here often? More importantly, could he use the fact that Teague visited a brothel to his advantage? After all, Teague probably didn’t want his wife to know.
Byron hadn’t stood in the parlor long before a woman clad only in her many underthings approached him. “’ello, ’andsome. Care to go upstairs with me?”
Heat rose up his neck. “Uh, no. Although I do have a question.”
“What is it, love?”
“That man who just went up the stairs, Mr. Teague, does he frequent this brothel often?”
“Ah, I can’t tell you that, love. Madam Maude would have me head if I gave out information about a patron.”
Byron nodded and turned to leave.
“Pssst!”
Byron’s attention was drawn to an older woman sitting at a table off to the side. She waved him over. “I can tell you about Teague,” she slurred. “Come.” She waved again.
He scanned the room. Everyone seemed absorbed in their own conversations and liaisons. When he approached the woman, she smiled broadly and lifted a bottle of whiskey. “Come sit with Effie. We’ll share a drink.”
He raised his hand as he took a seat next to her. “No liquor for me.”
She leaned in close and ran a hand along his arm. “Are you sure? A little nip does wonders,” she purred, the whiskey strong on her breath.
“I’m sure.” He removed her hand from his arm, but before he could ask about Teague, she frowned and drank a gulp from her glass.
“I used to be the most sought-after doxy in this place, years ago, mind you.” She lifted her glass high. “Now Madam Maude threatens to kick me out, after all the years I made money for her.”
Perhaps coming over had been a mistake. The woman beside him seemed more interested in lamenting her current state than giving him information. He began to rise, but she grabbed his wrist.
“I can tell you about Mr. Teague for a price.”
He sank back down onto his seat and fished a few coins from his pocket. He handed them to her, and her brow furrowed.
“This is all you’re willing to pay?”
Was the information she had worth more?
“Trust me. What I have to say will be worth the money,” she assured him as if she’d read his mind.
Despite his doubts, he took the last coins from his pocket and dropped them into her waiting hand. She poured herself another glass of whiskey and one for him too. She slid his glass before him.
He released a long breath and took a sip of the liquor. She drained the contents of hers and sat back. “Mr. Teague has been frequenting this brothel for years,” she finally whispered. “First he came to visit his sister-in-law, and now … now he sees any number of girls.”
“His sister-in-law?” He should have kept his money. This woman was spewing tales. He rose from his seat. “Thank you for your time.”
“I’m telling the truth. His wife’s sister was a foolish woman. She left her family for a worthless husband. When her family cut her off, he abused her. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Madam Maude met her on the street and convinced her to come here, promising her protection.”
“Why didn’t Teague take her in when she was in such dire straits?”
Effie shrugged. “I don’t think he knew her situation until she was already at Maude’s House. When he did discover where she was, he wanted to take her away, but she refused.”
Byron sank back down onto his chair. That made no sense. “Why would she refuse?”
“I don’t know. She would never say.” She poured another glass of whiskey for herself. “Instead, he paid Maude, so Caroline didn’t have to service patrons anymore.” Effie took a sip of her drink. “I’m sure it cost him a pretty penny too. After all, Caroline was beautiful with red hair and big, blue eyes—very popular with customers.”
Effie huffed a laugh. “Despite the agreement between Mr. Teague and Madam Maude, the silly woman soon moved upstairs to the servants’ quarters and began doing menial work.”
“Teague’s payments weren’t enough?”
She shook her head. “Caroline had an odd sense of pride. While she couldn’t refuse his generosity—Maude wouldn’t have let her even if she’d wanted to—she tried to believe that she was earning her own keep.”
Effie set her hand on his arm once more. “When Caroline found out she was pregnant, he was even more insistent that he take her and the child to live somewhere else, but she wouldn’t budge.”
“She had a child?”
Effie nodded. “She swore her daughter was her husband’s child, and she was fiercely protective of her. When the girl became old enough to work as a doxy, Caroline fought Madam Maude, and that Teague fella helped. He paid Maude off, so the girl could remain at Maude’s House without having to entertain customers.”
“Is she and her mother still here?”
Effie yawned and wilted in her chair. “Years passed, and Mr. Teague visited often. Eventually Caroline was killed by a drunken customer when she tried to stop him from beating a doxy.”
“What happened to the daughter?”
“Teague took her away.”
Teague only had two family members living with him, his wife and Lizzie. His heart paused a beat, and his face prickled as the blood drained from his head. This woman couldn’t be talking about Lizzie, could she? No, Lizzie wouldn’t have grown up in a place like this. His gaze swept the room once more. The half-dressed women and lewd men laughing and touching each other shouldn’t be a sight a child should ever see. Effie’s words echoed inside his head. Caroline was beautiful with red hair and big, blue eyes. Just like Lizzie.
“What was the daughter’s name?” he asked Effie, who was leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed.
“Effie, who do you have there?” A younger woman approached their table. She looked oddly familiar.
The older doxy’s eyes opened, and she waved the woman closer. “Stella! Come, come. Let me introduce you to …”
“The daughter’s name …” he pressed.
“Have we met before?” Stella asked him. “You look familiar.”
“I don’t believe so.” This was the first time he’d ever been in this brothel. He glanced over at Effie, who had her eyes closed again.
“Oh, Effie, if Maude catches you drunk again, she’ll tan your hide.” Stella shook Effie awake and helped her to her feet. “It was nice meeting you,” she said as she passed by, taking Effie with her.
So much for finding out the name of Caroline’s daughter. Maybe if he came back at another time … His mind reeled with what he’d just learned. Lizzie had been born and raised in a brothel?