Loving Lizzie Finn

3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

L izzie stared down at the letter in her hands. She’d found it buried in a desk drawer in Uncle Eldon’s study while she’d searched for the evidence against her uncle she hoped she wouldn’t find.

Mr. Teague, Madam Maude has told me about your arrangement with her. While I’m grateful for all that you’ve done for me, you need to stop concerning yourself with my situation. You are my sister’s husband, not mine. For Margaret’s sake, you’d best remember that. Mrs. Finn

Mrs. Finn—Caroline Finn, her mother. What had she meant by the arrangement Uncle Eldon had with Madam Maude? Not that it mattered much anymore now that her mother had passed. Which begged the question of why Uncle Eldon still had this letter. Odd. She slipped the note back inside her uncle’s desk drawer and left the study now that she’d finished combing through Uncle Eldon’s documents.

Taking advantage of the fact that her aunt and uncle were both gone for the day, Lizzie headed upstairs and entered their bedroom. She opened the wardrobe and began sorting through the garments hanging within. Not that she would find documents in here, but she’d agreed to look for evidence, and she would. She’d rummage through this entire house. Then she could honestly tell Byron Greeley that she’d kept her part of their bargain. In return, she’d have a job. A real, paying job … for as long as it would last.

Her stomach twisted. What would he do if he discovered where she’d been raised? Would he rescind the offer? No, not if he wanted her help, and maybe he wouldn’t find out about her past. He hadn’t thus far.

Although she was used to derisive looks and annoying murmurs, the fact that Mr. Greeley didn’t know where she’d grown up was quite nice. Mr. Greeley … He was quite nice too. Both in appearance and in how he obviously cared about his employees and his family.

She heaved a sigh and closed the wardrobe. Nothing to be found. Just as she’d thought.

What next? The trunk. She moved to the chest at the foot of the bed and opened the lid. Both men’s and women’s clothing were neatly folded inside. How curious that Uncle Eldon shared a bedroom with her aunt. They hardly seemed a love match. Then again, although Aunt Margaret didn’t treat her well, she was always civil toward Uncle Eldon. Lizzie dug through the garments. Again, nothing.

“What are you doing here, Lizzie?”

She startled at the sound of her uncle’s voice. Her pulse fluttering, she rose and faced him. “What are you doing home?” In the middle of the day.

He brushed his hand over a red splotch on his otherwise white shirt. “I had a run-in with my tomato soup at lunch. And you? You didn’t answer my question.”

Uncle Eldon appeared more curious than suspicious. Still, her heart pumped hard, and her palms grew damp. “I …” She glanced down at the open trunk, its contents now a mess. “I wanted to borrow a corset cover from Aunt Margaret.” At his bewildered expression, she added, “My own is in need of mending.” Lying to him rankled, but what else could she do? If he knew she was working with Mr. Greeley and why, he’d be angry and disappointed.

Her uncle approached her and looked down into the disheveled chest. “Don’t you have more than one?”

Yes. Drat. “They all need mending,” she quickly explained.

“Your maid, Emma, is she slacking in her duties?”

“No, I don’t let her sew them.” That much was true. “I prefer to mend things myself.” Once she lived on her own, she wouldn’t have servants to make her life easier. She might as well get used to doing these types of things for herself now.

Uncle Eldon studied her, one eyebrow slightly arched. “Have you asked your aunt’s permission?”

Ha. She avoided her aunt whenever possible. Asking the woman for anything was out of the question.

“I see,” he said, noting her silence. “Well, take one and be off.”

She hastily set the trunk to rights and snatched up a corset cover, then headed for the door when an idea dawned. “Uncle?” she asked, turning back.

“Yes?”

“Would you take me to work with you some day soon?”

He reached into the trunk and looked through the contents. “Why?”

“I’m interested in learning more about what you do.” And prove to Mr. Greeley that I’m true to my word. She would leave no stone unturned. The sooner she determined her uncle was innocent, the sooner she could put the whole matter behind her.

“I’m not going to give you a job.”

“I’m not asking for one.”

“You will.” He lifted a clean shirt from the chest and tossed it onto the bed. “That’s why you want to come to the bank with me, is it not?”

She averted her gaze. Her true reasons were more underhanded than that.

“You deserve a life of leisure. A home. A family.”

How many times had she told him she would never marry? “But—”

“Yes, you want to be self-reliant.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead, a weary look on his face. “I don’t think you understand how difficult that life is for a woman.”

She emitted a low, dark laugh. “I believe I do, or do you forget where I grew up?”

“Forget? Never.” He dropped his hand to his side. “Learn from your mother’s experience. Once she left her family, her life spiraled down a path you don’t want to take.”

Her spine stiffened. “I’m not my mother.” She raised her chin. “Besides, she left her family to wed, if you remember.”

“A man her family didn’t approve of,” her uncle corrected her. “She should have listened to her father and found a suitable husband. Just as you should listen to me. If you marry …”

Her glare brought his words to a halt.

“Ah, Lizzie, you’re a stubborn woman.”

Indeed, she was. Stubborn like her uncle. One would think she was related to him rather than her aunt. She and her uncle would never see eye to eye on this subject. Worse, she hadn’t intended to discuss it in the first place. Best to get back on task. “What if I promise not to ask you for a job? Will you take me to work then? I really want to see what you do all day.”

Uncle Eldon stared back, wary.

“Please, Uncle.”

He shook his head. “If that’s what you wish.”

A thrill of victory put a smile on her face, until guilt wiped it away. She’d only asked to accompany him to the bank for one reason—to snoop around his office. No, scratch that. She was going to prove his innocence. In a way, she was helping her uncle. Yes, that was what she had to remember, even if her actions felt wrong.

The room around her buzzing with activity, Lizzie stitched a delicate blue flower onto the ankle of the stocking in her hands. Ruby, Byron’s sister, leaned in to look over Lizzie’s shoulder. “You’re really quite talented. Almost as talented as I am.”

Lizzie glanced up to see Ruby snicker. “You give me something to aspire to,” Lizzie teased back. Ruby had no doubt been taught to stitch by her mother, as most women were. Lizzie had been no exception, even if her talent had been born out of necessity. At the brothel, she and her mother had to earn their keep, or Miss Maude would have kicked them out. Lizzie had cooked and cleaned, but when she’d turned twelve, those duties hadn’t been enough anymore, not for Miss Maude, considering what else a girl of that age could do. Lizzie had turned to sewing and stitching, making elaborate gowns for the woman to appease the madam. Not that Ruby needed to know any of that.

Neither did Ruby’s brother. Lizzie looked to the far side of the room where Byron spoke with his foreman.

Byron was about the same height as the man, but he stood with the confidence of a leader. Given his lean, muscular frame, Byron must do his fair share of manual labor. And handsome. He was certainly that.

As if he could sense her stare, Byron’s attention turned toward her. His gaze locked with hers, and her insides swirled in an eddy of sensation.

Ruby’s boys raced across the room from where they’d been stacking hat boxes.

“Lewis, Jesse, settle down,” Ruby called out from beside her.

When they passed Byron, he lunged forward and snared them both in his arms. “Whoa. Slow down, you devils.” The boys giggled and struggled to get free. Grinning, Byron lifted them from their feet, hauling them to their mother like bundles of cloth.

Lizzie turned back toward Ruby to find Byron’s sister looking directly at her instead of the boys. Ruby glanced between her and Byron then asked, “Tell me, how did you meet my brother?”

Her first meeting with Byron flashed through her mind—Byron drunk and going through her uncle’s things. “I—”

“I know her uncle.” Byron set the boys down beside the table. “We have a loan with his bank.”

Lewis and Jesse pulled on their uncle’s arms, begging to be picked up again.

“Boys, come count how many spools of thread I have left in this box.” Ruby set a rather large box on the floor, filled to the brim. “I may need you to fetch more.”

The lads did as they were told without a grumble, carefully pulling out one spool at a time.

“Now then.” Ruby cast Byron a questioning look. “What uncle is this?”

“Eldon Teague,” Bryon offered.

Ruby’s light-brown eyes flared, and she gazed at Lizzie as if she’d grown two heads. “Your uncle is ungodly rich. What are you doing working here?”

Had they not discussed this before? “I want to earn my own money and eventually live independently.” Perhaps sooner than eventually, given Aunt Margaret’s determination to see her married.

“You’re going to live on your own, and work here?” Ruby asked, her incredulous look still in place.

Why was her plan so hard to believe? Perhaps not many women had accomplished the same, but she wasn’t the first. “Yes, I’ll be living on my own, the sooner the better.”

Byron frowned. “Why the rush?”

His concern touched her, until she considered what his true reasons might be. After all, he could simply be worried she wouldn’t be in Uncle Eldon’s house long enough to prove her uncle’s guilt. “My aunt has had enough of me. She’s hosting a ball with the intent of marrying me off.”

Byron’s frown deepened.

Shaking her head, Ruby went back to her embroidery. “Why is marriage such a bad thing?”

She could tell them about her father, who had abused her mother, or of all the vile men she’d met in her short time on this earth. After all, Lizzie had lived in a brothel for most of her life. But for the moment, everyone here treated her with respect. No doubt that would end once they knew the truth. “Friends” who learned of her upbringing had a habit of distancing themselves from her. “Let’s just say, I’ve learned from my mother’s experience.” In more ways than one.

Ruby’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Perhaps you haven’t come to know the man you’d like to spend the rest of your life with yet.” She peered up at Byron, the devil in her eye.

“Let it be, Ruby, or you’ll make her uncomfortable,” Byron said, then walked toward his office.

Ruby continued to smirk as she picked up her embroidery. Ah, his sister thought to play matchmaker. Ruby probably pestered her brother all the time about finding a wife. Lizzie returned to her stitching. “I presume your brother isn’t courting anyone at the moment?”

“Afraid not.”

A small part of her savored the news, even though she shouldn’t care in the least. “Is he not interested in marrying and having a family of his own?” Perhaps he was a kindred spirit in that regard, although he’d seemed somewhat shocked by her opinion on the matter.

Ruby shrugged, a motion that contradicted the glimmer in her eyes as she regarded Lizzie. “Oh, I believe he wants a wife and a family someday. He merely hasn’t had the time for courtship.”

Lizzie focused hard on the design she was stitching. Byron’s desire for a wife, or lack thereof, was none of her concern.

“Plenty of women try to gain Byron’s attention, and I do my best to steer him in their direction,” Ruby added.

Lizzie’s needle missed its mark, pricking her finger in the process, a sharp sting that resulted in a small drop of blood. Bringing the digit to her mouth, she scanned the workroom, and all the women who worked at Greeley & Company. Were they single or married? Exactly how many women vied for Byron’s attention? Not that she needed to know. She forced her mind back to her embroidery.

Ruby let out a long sigh. “Ever since he took over running this business, his life has been filled with nothing but work.”

“How long has it been?”

“Our father had to retire three months ago because of his declining health.”

Oh no. “Your father is ill?”

Ruby’s hands stilled. “Consumption, we’re told.”

“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Thank you.” Ruby’s fingers set to work once more. “I’m not worried for myself. I have Gabe and my boys to give me comfort, but my mother and Byron … I do what I can for my mother, but Byron has taken too much onto his shoulders. I can see something is bothering him. I’ve offered my help, and Gabe’s help, and yet Byron insists he has everything in hand.”

Poor Byron. And poor Ruby, worrying about her brother.

The urge to go to Byron surged through her. If nothing else, she could reassure him that she’d been doing as he’d asked. Acting on impulse, she set down her stitching and rose to her feet. “I forgot to mention to your brother I won’t be working tomorrow. I’d best go tell him.”

Ruby did no more than nod, apparently lost in her own thoughts.

Lizzie looked through the open door at Byron sitting at his desk in the cramped office, his head in his hands. He did indeed look like something was bothering him. She knocked on the doorframe, and Byron’s head jerked up. He quickly stood. “Miss Finn.”

“Lizzie. Please call me Lizzie.” Everyone else who worked at Greeley & Company treated each other as friends or family rather than coworkers or boss. “I …” She glanced over her shoulder. “I wanted to give you an update on my progress.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed, and he waved her closer, the gesture causing a giddy thrill in her middle. What in heaven’s name? Stop that.

“Have you found anything?” Byron whispered. He studied her with such intensity gooseflesh rose on her arms.

“No, not yet.” Most likely not ever, given that her uncle had done nothing wrong. Although when Byron muttered under his breath and swiped a hand over his mouth, she almost wished she had something she could tell him. “I’ve searched the entire house.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I’m telling the truth.” She thrust her shoulders back and stood with her spine perfectly straight. “My word is good. I’m keeping to my side of our agreement. In fact, I’m going with my uncle to his bank tomorrow.”

Byron’s head tilted, his stare softening. “On what pretense?”

“I’ve told him I’d like to learn about what he does all day.”

“He believed you?”

She gave a short laugh. “Not precisely. He thinks I mean to ask him for a job, and he fully intends to turn me down.”

One side of Byron’s mouth quirked up. “I must say I’m impressed. You really are doing your part.”

That partial smile, his approval … She had to admit, it felt good to hear such praise. If only she could give Byron what he wanted without hurting her uncle. “It might be a good idea to look into other ways to save your business besides proving your loan agreement is fraudulent.”

“I have been, with no luck so far.” He gestured toward the surface of his desk, where there appeared to be a scattering of invoices. “I’ve been contacting our customers, asking if they would like more from us, perhaps even a different product altogether. Not that a few more orders would be enough.”

She sank into a chair beside the desk. “Could you take out another loan?”

“I’ve looked into that option as well. It seems banking institutions don’t like to loan money to businesses on the verge of failing.”

“How do they know?” Was Byron so forthcoming? Even if he was, surely he wouldn’t have stated the situation that way.

“Your uncle has been talking to his friends about me,” Byron said, taking his seat once more.

That couldn’t be. Why would Uncle Eldon do such a thing? He wouldn’t intentionally besmirch Byron’s good name. Unless, he’d felt obligated to forewarn his friends of a bad investment? Still, she had to believe Byron’s situation could be resolved.

Byron was a good man, and his employees deserved to keep their jobs. She reached over and laid her hand on Byron’s arm. “I’ll help however I can. We’ll find a way to save your business.” If her uncle had done no wrong, she couldn’t provide Byron with the proof he desired, but she would support him in other ways if she could.