17. Chapter 17 #2
When they reached the sitting room, Zane closed the door halfway.
He'd not risk her reputation by closing it all the way, but he wanted to give them as much privacy as possible.
He led her to a pair of pale green upholstered parlor chairs situated near the small hearth on the far side of the room.
Her silk skirt belled around her as she perched on the edge of the cushion.
He scooted his chair closer to hers, hoping to convey the message that he wasn't going anywhere.
Zane took his seat, his knees deliciously close to hers.
"I'm so sorry about my father. He was completely out of line.
I wouldn't blame you if you wanted nothing to do with my family or me after that fiasco.
" Who would want to marry a man knowing the future held nothing but scorn from his family?
His breath hitched. Maybe the true danger was of her wanting nothing to do with him.
"I promise that I don't share his views," Zane hurried to add.
"I respect a man who works hard to provide for his family.
I'd rather have honor and integrity than a big house and expensive things.
That's one of the reasons I wanted to work for Mr. Clayton.
Not only have I always loved building things and been fascinated by the combination of science and art found in architecture, but I also didn't want to be one of those indolent wastrels who lived off his parents' money.
I want to make my own way in the world. Even if my father doesn't cut me off, I plan to separate myself from his provision.
Get my own place. Live off my own salary.
I had thought to do so after completing my apprenticeship and receiving a promotion to draftsman or assistant designer.
However, if the need arises sooner, I'm prepared.
I've been squirreling away my earnings for the last few years.
Should I . . . uh . . . find myself with a wife to provide for, I'd be able to do so.
Not at this level," he said with a wave of his hand to indicate the ornate furnishings around him, "but in modest form.
" Heat flushed his face. "So, if you were hoping to be part of this world, you might need to brace yourself for disappointment. "
"Zane." She leaned toward him, her eyes round and glimmering with sincerity.
"I don't want to be part of this world." She, too, gestured to the well-appointed room.
"I want to be part of yer world. Wherever ye are, that's where I want to be.
Whether that be here among yer father's people, in a small house off Avenue M, or even in a different city altogether. I just want to be with ye."
Warmth infused Zane's chest. How many young women of his acquaintance would make such a proclamation?
Privilege was what they knew. What they expected.
He couldn't imagine any of them being content with a small house on Avenue M.
Yet he could picture Muriel smiling and laughing just as much there as anywhere.
"Before we go plannin' our future, though, I have a bit more confessin' to do." Her chin dropped, as did her lashes, hiding her vibrant eyes from him. "Ye may not want any part o' me once ye learn the rest of me story."
"I very much doubt that."
Her mouth turned upward at his words, but it was a cautious smile, not one of her unfettered grins that beamed like the sun.
She lifted her reticule to her lap and played with the drawstring holding it closed. "Do ye recall yer father sayin' that he'd taken matters into his own hands regardin' Mrs. Underhill?"
Zane thought back through all the harsh things his father had said and remembered how his mother had recoiled at something he'd said along those lines when she'd tried to soothe his temper. "I think so."
"Well, Mrs. Underhill claimed that he stole a journal from her, one in which she keeps all her business records.
I couldn't afford to pay her to help me find ye, so she agreed to help me if I helped her in return.
I'm to find the book he stole and steal it back.
" She pulled a brown leather journal from her handbag.
"I'm supposed to replace it with this empty one.
If I don't succeed, she'll reveal the truth about who I really am, which doesn't much matter now, but she also threatened to destroy me da's reputation.
To whisper lies into the ears of important men, accuse him of skimmin' cargo and conductin' underhanded dealings.
Not only that, but she plans to ruin me sister's husband, too.
Accuse him of stealin' from guests at the Beach Hotel and plantin' evidence to make it believable.
She'll destroy me family, Zane. All because o' me.
I can't let that happen." Her voice cracked and so did his heart.
"We'll find a way through this, Muriel. I promise.
" But would they? He wanted to help her, yet helping her meant betraying his father.
His loyalty was being torn down the middle.
His father or Muriel? His father had stolen a journal to protect his family.
Muriel agreed to steal it back to protect hers.
He'd known his father his whole life. He'd known Muriel for less than a month. Which path was the right one to take?