Loving Lizzie Finn

4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

B yron opened the door to his family’s apartment, hoping to catch the doctor before he left. His mother’s message had said his father had taken a turn for the worse, and Dr. Fletcher was recommending a new treatment that would require substantial funds.

He passed through the front parlor and continued on to the sitting room where his mother stood with the doctor. “What happened? Is my father all right?”

Dr. Fletcher turned to him. “I’m afraid his condition is deteriorating, and I’ve reached a point where there’s little more I can do.”

Byron’s mother held out a paper. “Dr. Fletcher recommends we send your father to a sanatorium.”

Byron accepted the sheet and scanned the information there. “He’d have to travel to Europe?”

“The sanitorium in Germany has been highly successful in treating consumption. There’s also one in Switzerland that looks to be quite good,” his mother added, a hopeful note in her voice.

His gut clenched. The cost would be exorbitant. Where would he get the money? “What are the chances he’ll be cured if he goes?” he asked the doctor.

“I don’t have the exact figures, but I’ve been told the German facility in particular has lost a fairly low number of patients.”

Few had died. That didn’t mean they were cured. “What does this facility offer that you can’t?” Inwardly, he cringed that he was even asking the question, but he had no choice.

His mother’s expression grew anxious. “Byron.”

He remembered the stern disciplinarian mother who’d raised him and his sister as his father had been too softhearted to ever chastise them. Now she stood before him, worry weighing heavily on her and her tone pleading.

“I’m not saying we won’t send him,” he assured her. “I’m simply asking for more information.” If only he could allay her fears without the lie. He’d been studying their finances for weeks. They couldn’t afford to send his father abroad, at least not until the loan situation got sorted out. Even then …

“Mrs. Greeley, these are valid questions, and your son has every right to ask them.” Dr. Fletcher returned his attention to Byron. “It’s said that a certain mountainous air is helpful in treating the disease. That’s the real benefit of going to these places.”

“I see.” Guilt gnawed at his conscience. “Will he live if he doesn’t go?” Dr. Fletcher had been their family doctor for years. He trusted the man’s opinion.

“Byron,” his mother gasped.

He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

“Consumption is often a fatal disease, and in truth, there’s no guarantee he’ll survive another year regardless if he goes or stays. I’m simply providing you with options as I’ve done the best that I can, and his condition is worsening.” Dr. Fletcher clapped a hand on Byron’s shoulder. “I wish I had more answers for you.”

“Thank you, Dr. Fletcher. I’ll look over this information in more detail.” Not that it would do much good.

His mother pulled her hand from Byron’s grasp and headed out of the room. “I’ll see you out,” she told the doctor.

Once he was alone in the room, Byron groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. He had yet to tell either of his parents about Greeley & Company’s troubles. He’d hoped to repair the damage, that they’d never have to know, and now this. When his mother returned, they’d have to have a difficult conversation. Byron shook his head, and like a coward, headed for his parents’ bedroom. At least he could avoid that discussion for a short time.

He knocked on the door, and his father bid him entry. He found his father sitting up in his bed. Not all that long ago, his father had been able-bodied, robust. Now, a pale, thin man stared back at him. “How are you feeling?” Byron asked.

His father smiled. “The same as always—a bit tired.”

“I’m not a child. You don’t have to placate me.” He knew full well his father suffered from pain in his chest and hacking, bloody coughs. Byron frowned as guilt tore into him once more.

“Now. Now. It sounds as if I will be cured soon. Your mother and Dr. Fletcher have come up with a treatment that will restore me to full health, so no need to worry about me.”

His father’s kind brown eyes were the same as they’d always been. No need to worry? What if his father died because of him?

“As for you, you look tired, Byron. Are you working too hard? Greeley & Company isn’t giving you a difficult time, is it?”

Should he tell him his troubles? That after his father had nurtured Greeley & Company for years, it had only taken three months under Byron’s leadership for the company to be put at risk? That because of Byron’s poor management, sending him to a sanitorium wasn’t possible.

“Your sister tells me you’ve hired a new employee.”

Just the mention of Lizzie raised his spirits and brought a smile to his face. “Yes, I have. Like Ruby, she’s quite good at embroidery.”

His father smiled back at him. “Tell me about her.”

“There’s not much to say. I don’t know her all that well.” Byron took a seat next to the bed. “She’s from a wealthy family, yet she insists she wants to work and be an independent woman. She’s friendly, and she seems to keep to her word.”

“You appear to like her.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Ever since I brought her up, you’ve had a smile on your face and a sparkle in your eye.”

“I can’t deny that there’s something captivating about her.” He lifted his gaze to the family portrait on the wall. He could imagine Lizzie in that picture, a part of their family. Ruby already seemed to like her. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“It doesn’t matter if I do. Do you?”

“I can’t describe it. The first time I saw her, she stole my breath.” Her lush red hair and flashing blue eyes were stunning, but his attraction to her wasn’t only about her beauty. Her strength and vitality had drawn him in. “I thought maybe she was a passing fancy, but the next time I saw her, I was hit with the same feeling that she was the one for me.”

“How does she feel about you?”

“I don’t know.” He tore his gaze from the portrait and heaved a sigh. “She insists she’ll never marry, so she must not have been struck in the same way I was.”

“What do you plan to do?”

His mouth twitched. “Obviously I have to convince her she should be with me.”

“That’s my boy. Don’t let her get away.”

The obstacles between them were numerous—her uncle’s perfidy to name one. Yet even if that were resolved, her uncle would still hold a grudge. He’d never allow Byron to court his niece. Still, if Lizzie could defy her uncle to live on her own, perhaps she’d be willing to defy him to marry whomever she wished. Pursuing her would be a challenge, but he would not be dissuaded. Alas that would have to wait. First, he had to prove her uncle’s guilt and get his loan back in order. Then he would find a way to send his father abroad. And he had to do it soon.

Lizzie dutifully followed her uncle around the bank as he introduced her to his employees. All of them were extremely friendly, but of course they would be to the niece of the bank president.

The interior of The Boston Trust Company bank was opulent with its grand pillars and chandeliers, yet not overly ostentatious. Although the bank teller windows separated them from clients, a few employees sat at desks in the lobby to easily answer questions and meet with customers. The atmosphere gave the impression of high standards and respectability as if those who frequented the bank could reach the same heights.

Her uncle turned to her. “Now that you’ve seen where I work, shall I take you home?”

Lizzie shook her head. “I haven’t been to your office yet. I came to the bank to see what you do all day, and that’s what I aim to do.”

Uncle Eldon crooked an eyebrow and released a long breath. “Very well.” He motioned for them to continue their walk. “Bear in mind, there’s not much to see in my office.”

True to his words, Uncle Eldon’s office was a fairly simple affair. A desk took up the center of the room, and a cabinet sat in one corner, a safe stowed within.

Before her uncle could offer to take her home again, she sat on one of the chairs near the desk. She motioned toward his office chair. “Take a seat and work. Don’t mind me.”

His forehead furrowed. “What will you do while I work?”

“I’ll observe.”

“You’ll be bored to death.”

Hmm. He had a point. Still, she couldn’t leave yet. “If you have a pencil and a piece of paper, I’ll draw while I watch you work.”

Her uncle sat, pulled open a drawer, and handed her the materials she’d requested. “Let me know when you’re ready to go home.”

“I will. Thank you.” She set the paper on the desk as she took in the clutter before her uncle. She itched to search his office, but she had to bide her time. Still, as she idly began drawing her uncle at his desk, she discreetly scanned the room.

“Do you have any questions?” her uncle asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. “You’ve been studying my office as if trying to figure something out.”

Apparently, she hadn’t been as discreet as she’d thought. “I’m simply wondering what you do as a bank president.”

Uncle Eldon leaned back in his chair. “I’m responsible for the overall running of this bank. I make sure we have impeccable employees and satisfied customers. I determine what services we provide and what policies we employ. My job is all-encompassing, so it’s a bit hard to explain.”

“I see.” She focused on her sketch and asked the question foremost in her mind. “Do you personally handle loans?”

“Not typically. Perhaps for important clients,” her uncle said as he sorted through the many documents on his desk.

“Important clients?”

“Those with power and prestige.”

Of course. Just as she’d thought, the bank president would only concern himself with the most influential customers. Not someone with a small business like Byron. The tip of her pencil glided over the paper as she thought the matter over.

A knock on the door interrupted their discussion. Lizzie tried to remember the name of the man in the doorway, an employee she’d met only a short while ago. Price? Mr. Price.

“Mr. Teague, would you mind helping us resolve a dispute. We have a customer who has an issue with his account and won’t be appeased until he speaks with you.”

“I’ll be right there.” Uncle Eldon stood and headed for the door. “I’ll be back soon, Lizzie.”

She waved him away and continued to draw, although her attention remained on her uncle. As soon as he left the room, she hopped up from her chair and surveyed the documents on his desk. No, if he did have something to hide, he wouldn’t keep it in plain view. Continuously glancing at the door, she pulled open desk drawers and rifled through their contents. Nothing suspicious. She hurried to the cabinet and did the same there. Nothing. The safe? She studied its closed door. The safe required a key.

“What are you doing?” Uncle Eldon asked from the doorway.

Lizzie’s heart hammered in her chest. “Stretching my legs.” She returned to her chair and picked up the pencil once more. “Did you resolve the customer’s complaint?”

“Of course. I’m a persuasive man.” Her uncle grinned as he took his seat at the desk.

“I’m sure you are.” Would Byron be satisfied with her search of Uncle Eldon’s office? She’d seen everything but what was inside the safe, and it didn’t seem likely she’d be able to look in there. Were there other ways to prove her uncle’s innocence? “Can I ask you more questions?”

“What would you like to know?”

“We were talking about loans. How do they work?”

“There’s not much to it really. Someone comes in and asks for a loan. We determine if they will have the ability to pay it back in the future. If it appears they can, we both sign a contract stating the amount of the loan, the interest the bank charges, and the date the loan is due.”

Lizzie kept her head down, her gaze on the paper, and her pencil moving. “After the document is signed, can either party change the terms?”

“Not without mutual agreement. Why are you suddenly so interested in loans?”

Lizzie glanced up at her uncle’s frowning face. “I merely have an interest in banking.”

“You’re not going to ask me for a job, are you?”

Her dread mounting, she emitted a laugh that sounded more like a choked cough. “I know you won’t give me one even if I ask.” She’d gone too far in her questioning, hadn’t she? Damn.

“Then what’s the point in learning about …” Her uncle peered at her drawing.

Did he wish to see her sketch? If it would distract him from asking her more questions … She looked down at the paper and gasped when she realized what she’d drawn. Byron’s likeness stared back at her. She made a move to clutch it to her chest, but her uncle snatched it from her fingers.

“Byron Greeley. He’s the reason you’re asking about loans?” He crumpled the paper in his fist. “Do you believe I swindled him?”

“No, Uncle. I know you wouldn’t do that. In fact, I’m doing the opposite of what you think. As much Mr. Greeley would like to prove your guilt, I’d like to prove your innocence.”

Her uncle grunted. “You needn’t do that. Just trust me.” Uncle Eldon paced around his office. “Greeley has put foolish ideas into your head. Stay away from the man, or he’ll lead you astray.” He stopped and pointed a finger in her direction. “Do you hear me? Stay away from him.”

Lizzie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Uncle, calm down. There’s nothing for you to worry about. When will I ever see Mr. Greeley again?” She held back a cringe at the misleading question. After all, she’d see Byron Greeley again tomorrow when she returned to work, not that she’d tell her uncle that. She released a sigh. Not only had she been unable to thoroughly explore her uncle’s office, but she’d riled him up in the process. This trip had been a waste of time.