Elizabeth Drake

Chapter Three

“Why do I have the feeling that your sister is still at your house?” Ryan asked as Vincent walked into the office at the bank.

Although he wore the tailored suit and was dressed better than most gentlemen, Vincent was visibly tired. There were dark patches below his eyes and his complexion looked grayer than usual. Vincent sighed heavily and closed the door to Ryan’s office behind him.

“Apparently, my father was not the only one in danger. According to my sister, there may be some trouble for us as well,” Vincent offered.

Ryan remained in the comfortable position he had been in. Vincent did not understand how anyone could be so improper, but he was sure that it had to do with Ryan’s American upbringing. With his shoes rested on the corner of his desk, Ryan twirled the dry pen around his fingers, questioning Vincent with his eyes.

“By us, you mean you and her, right?”

“I would like to say that.” Vincent stepped across the floor and took a position in a large wooden chair. “As it stands, I don’t know for sure.” Ryan stared at the pen while he thought of possibilities.

“Did you learn your moralistic values from your father?” When Vincent remained, silent Ryan continued. “You have made a few enemies over the years.”

“I don’t think that there is any connection between us and my father,” Vincent added. Ryan tilted his head to the side as he realized what he had just said. “I have a few enemies.”

“Not as many as I have, but you are still quite well-known.”

“This is serious Hawke.” Vincent ignored his humorous smile.

“Not for me it isn’t.”

Ryan was good at what he did, but he could be irritating at times. Vincent had come across him in a rather odd way. When he had started out in the banking business, he was as legitimate as he could be. His morals were steadfast, and his methods were perfect. However, there was no money in being honest.

After several failed attempts to make his fortune, Vincent found himself broke, but on the verge of a financial breakthrough. His only option was to take out a loan from a dangerous man, someone that had a reputation for making their money back with twice the interest. Unfortunately, the financial gain that Vincent was expecting fell through. The man that came to collect the first payment was Ryan Hawke.

After a few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a fractured leg, the debt was paid. It was then that Vincent saw where the real money was. When Ryan came back for the rest of the payment, Vincent did not have a dime to his name. After a severe beating, he told Ryan that he was going to have to kill him, because he didn’t have the money. Ryan, who had a sick sense of humor, admired the man for his bravery. He let Vincent live. However, he pointed out that Vincent had the perfect cover for a loan business of his own.

 Vincent took his advice and propositioned the partnership. Ryan was quick to accept the offer. Within a few months the two men were beyond wealthy. Vincent’s morals were quick to fade, as his pockets grew full. They began to make a name for themselves, both professionally and privately.

Within the bank, Vincent and Ryan were renowned for their professionalism and welcomed into any circle of society that they chose, but with the promotions that followed, Vincent had most of the bank’s money at his disposition. The real fortune came from the people that could not walk into the bank with collateral for a loan.

“Was your father rooted in society?” Ryan tossed his pen onto his ledger and pulled his feet off his desk. “Obviously, he has enemies of his own, do you know who it could be?” Vincent shook his head as he remembered the man that he lived with for a short time in his life.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Beth said that she went to a friend’s house just after she heard the gunfire. Someone got there just before she did. From the sounds of it, the man was not only looking for Daniel Drake, but his son too.”

“You have a brother?” He asked.

“No, but the man did not know that.” Vincent looked out the window as he finished the retelling. “To make matters worse, Beth’s rather intelligent friend was quick to offer information about her.”

“So, now they can look for Elizabeth and you,” Ryan surmised. When Vincent stood up and began pacing, Ryan tried to piece the puzzle together. “What is in the envelope she held out?”

 “I don’t know.” Vincent turned to face him. “She won’t give it to me.”

“That’s a woman for you.” Ryan opened his desk drawer and took out an envelope. “She will tell you that you could be in danger, but she won’t show you why.” Without realizing it, Vincent took offence to the comment.

“She’s been through hell.”

“You didn’t seem to care when the sniveling little rat showed up here yesterday.” Ryan threw his own words back at him.

The vacant stare on Ryan’s face could have either been taken as toleration or annoyance. Even though they had worked together for quite a few years, Vincent still could not decipher his expressions. Raising his hand out in front of him, Vincent offered his guilt without seeming over compassionate.

“I didn’t know what happened,” he admitted. A faint smile spread across Ryan’s face as he watched Vincent struggle with his guilt.

“And yet, as entertaining as this is, I still don’t care.” With a flawless transition, Ryan brought the subject around to a more pressing matter in his mind. Lifting the envelope once more, he placed it on his desk closer to Vincent. “Here is the payment from the chimney sweep.”

The temptation of the money was almost enough to sway his train of thought. However, Vincent picked up the envelope and did not ask the same questions that he normally did.

“She said that she needs to get to Oswald Roshire.”

“Oswald Roshire, does she even know who the hell he is?” Ryan jerked his head back quickly.

“No,” Vincent answered. “She has been brought up over thirty miles from here. She has no idea who anyone is.”

“You would think that one of the richest men in the country would be well known, even so far as thirty miles away.” Ryan watched Vincent put the envelope in his inside vest pocket. “Actually, this is getting kind of interesting.” Placing his feet back on the edge of the desk, Ryan picked up his pen and began to twirl it again. “I am having a hard time imagining what your boyhood must have been like. You were quite the gentlemen when I first met you. I just can’t see you as a back-wood’s farm boy.” Vincent put up his hand to stop him.

“I was never on a farm in my life. Just because she is my sister, does not mean that we have anything more than our father in common.” Showing a loss in his patience, Vincent lowered his voice slightly. “We did not have the same mother. I spent two years raising a little girl and living off the streets, while Daniel Drake drank away every cent he made.” Ryan looked toward the door before returning his attention to Vincent.

“That’s a pretty sad story, but unfortunately I have a meeting.” The sound of jingling keys was soft but unmistakable as Mr. Thatcher came to the door as Ryan looked up at him.

“Give me one more moment,” Vincent said to the clerk. When the door closed behind the young man, he continued. “I am going to need your help with this.”

“With what?” Ryan stood up from his chair and adjusted his deep gray coat and gold cufflinks. “You have no idea what happened, who did it, and if they even know where to find you.” Vincent held his glare on Ryan as he rubbed his hand along his short beard. Ryan looked toward the door again and saw that his ten o’clock appointment had brought his lusciously beautiful wife. “Get the letter.”

“I have tried,” Vincent admitted. “She still won’t give it to me.”

“Then take it from her,” Ryan offered impatiently.

“I can’t find it.” Vincent knew that Ryan was ready to kick him out of his office. Taking him by the shoulder, Ryan led him slowly to the door.

“Do you want my help?” Ryan asked. “Then get the letter.” With an over expressive smile Ryan nearly pushed Vincent out of his office.

***

Elizabeth had begun to use sleep as an escape. Her ankle was still swollen, but she did not need to stay in bed as much as she had been. Vincent had come to see her once each day, but she had hardly spoken to him since he had deceived her.

The anger and the hurt were much too deep for her to deal with. Elizabeth had begun to live in the dark robe that Vincent had given her. A maid had been sent to buy her a dress. Even though it was the most expensive gown she had ever seen, Elizabeth refused to wear it.

After days of hiding in the small room, she had finally formed a plan. Once her ankle had healed, she was going to find Oswald Roshire. When she had delivered the letter, she would return to Caterwood, stay with Fanny, and try to get a job at the glass factory.

“Beth, can I come in?” Vincent asked after he knocked on the door. Knowing that she still would not answer him, he walked in anyway. “How is your foot?” Elizabeth remained silent and rolled over to face the wall. “Look Beth, you are going to have to talk to me sometime.” He did not walk around the room to face her. He simply stayed near the door. “The maid told Mr. Halis that you are walking much better. Are you ever going to leave this room?”

When she still did not answer him, Vincent began to lose his patience. Taking a step into the room, he looked on the table and the dresser for the letter that she had kept hidden. The small bedroom had one large window that overlooked the street. It allowed a lot of light into the room, but he had been getting home late in the evening. The light had nearly faded.

“I am not sending food up here again. If you want to eat, you are going to have to come downstairs.” He did not expect the threat to get a response.

“Where do I find Oswald Roshire?” She asked in a clear voice.

“Did you read the letter?” He watched the bedcovers expand and collapse as she sighed.

“It is none of my business.” Elizabeth was getting tired of the question. “I was told to give it to a man named Roshire.” Vincent ran his hand through his hair as he wondered what was wrong with her.

“If someone is after you, don’t you think you should try and find out why?”

“Stop asking me questions!” Elizabeth turned to face him. “Don’t you think I want to know the answers too? I am doing what my father told me to do.”

“He is dead Beth,” Vincent began. She did not want to face the truth, even though she could not deny it.

“I am not giving it to you. If no one has come looking for either you or me, I am not giving it to anyone other than Mr. Roshire.”

“I would like to avoid having someone look for me.” Vincent pointed out. “And if I were you, I would try to stop trouble before it lands on my doorstep.”

The deep blue striped suit looked nice against his dark hair and his dark eyes, but Elizabeth wondered if he had anything other than his money.

“Will you take me to him?”

“We don’t even know why! What would Daniel possibly have in common with a man like Roshire?”

“I don’t know!”

His annoyance was very apparent as he looked down at her. Vincent felt uncomfortable in the small room with Elizabeth. She had changed so much that he hardly felt like he knew her. The more she tried to protect Daniel, the more Vincent was beginning to dislike her.

“Just tell me what it says, and I will take you to him tomorrow,” he whispered. There was no way that Vincent could get in to see Oswald Roshire. The man was so busy that he practically saw his own family by appointment only. However, Vincent had lied to his sister before, and he saw nothing wrong with doing it again.

“No,” she replied flatly.

“Get dressed. You are eating downstairs, or you are leaving my house,” he ordered. Vincent had lost his patience. The woman was as stubborn as he was, and it was a very dislikable quality.

As soon as he left the room, Elizabeth threw back her covers and looked at her ankle. The swelling had nearly subsided, but it was still difficult to put weight on. Standing up from the bed, she reached into the inside of the robe and removed the letter that was next to her chemise. She looked at the writing on the paper. Though it had not been addressed to her, it was her father’s hand that had penned the words.

 Vincent was naive to think that she did not want to know what it said. Every bone in her body wanted to know what was in her hands, but Elizabeth loved her father dearly. He had warned her that the less she knew, the better it would be. She had already defied his wishes by showing the letter to Vincent, but she would not betray him any further.

Elizabeth knew that she needed to face her situation, but the more that Vincent pushed her, the more she wanted to resist him. Leaving the bed, she picked up the pastel green gown that hung on a form in the closet. It was far more beautiful than anything she had ever worn before, but she did not feel right wearing it. It was trimmed with white lace and had a small pink rose in the center of the chest. With layers of material within the skirt, she eyed the dress and longed to put it on. The small white shoes that sat at the bottom of the closet had the same light green embroidery on the toes. If she were going to find Oswald Roshire, she would need to look decent.

Taking the gown and the shoes out of the closet, Elizabeth began to dress. Her chemise and corset were freshly cleaned, and her hair still smelled like cinnamon. Pulling the material over her arms, she slipped into the gown. A sentiment that she could not have expected swept over her as she got dressed. Elizabeth no longer felt like a poor farm girl from Caterwood.

The shoes were a little small and uncomfortable, but she was not about to complain. The tightness of the swollen ankle made the event less pleasant, but the shoes were beautiful, and Elizabeth was going to wear them even if they made her bleed.

Instead of pulling her hair up into the bun that she had become accustomed to, she let her golden curls fall down her back and fashioned only a small portion of the sides on top of her head. Having the same high forehead that Vincent had, she allowed the shorter pieces of hair to curl just above her light blue eyes. When she had completed her task, Elizabeth could hardly believe the change in her appearance.

She walked down the staircase slowly, due to her sore ankle. However, when she reached the small dining room the man that she had first thought was her brother, stood next to Vincent.

“Beth, I didn’t expect you to come down,” Vincent said as she stood in the doorway. Ryan looked toward the door. The woman stood angry and slightly embarrassed.

“I did not realize you had a guest,” she whispered uneasily.

“Ryan is not a guest. He is here nearly as much as I am,” Vincent explained.

The woman was obviously embarrassed by his presence. However, Ryan found her expression entertaining. She clearly wanted to run out of the room and if she could have talked her feet into moving, she probably would have.

“Perhaps I should take my meal upstairs?”

“Not at all,” Vincent said gently. “Beth, this is Ryan Hawke. He has worked with me at the bank for a few years now.”

There was no way for her to show how much she hated her brother at that moment. The first time she decided to give him a chance, he invited the one man that she had chosen to hate.

For days she had been embarrassed about what she was put through. The stranger had no right to deceive her on the worst day of her life, but the uncaring pig had the nerve to let her believe he was her brother.

As Elizabeth stared at the man that she had first trusted, he nodded in her direction. The only thing that kept her from running out of the room, besides her foot, was the fresh cut just above Mr. Hawke’s eye. She had hardly been able to look in his eyes when she had first met him. He avoided eye contact almost completely, but she was sure that the wound was not there before. Looking at the floor and then over to Vincent, Ryan waited for someone to say something.

“Beth,” Vincent broke the silence. “Mr. Hawke was not responsible for what happened. He feels worse than I do.” Ryan looked over at Vincent with a blank expression, completely unaffected by what the woman was put through. “Please, just come and eat. You have been up there for days.”

“Excuse me, I am not feeling well.” Even though she hated Vincent for lying to her, she hated Ryan Hawke even more, and she was not about to tolerate a meal with him. Turning on her heals she walked out of the room and took to the stairway once again.

“That went well,” Ryan smiled and pulled out a chair to sit down. When Vincent stood still, Ryan remained standing. “Don’t tell me that you want to go after her.”

“I was hoping that you would check her room for the letter, while I kept her down here,” Vincent admitted.

“You want me to check her room?” Ryan asked with the same blank stare. Vincent placed his hands on the back of the chair and looked at the table.

“Well, it is better than me looking for it while she is sleeping.”

The smile that would seem like a common act to anyone else looked seemed dangerous to Vincent. When Ryan stepped away from his chair and began walking towards the hallway, Vincent apprehensive.

“What are you doing?”

“I am going to check her room,” Ryan said as he walked away.

“Damn,” he whispered. “Not while she is in it!”

Ryan gave no answer as he started up the stairs. The woman in question was not even half of the way up when she turned to see Ryan’s large form brush past her on the steps.

“Excuse me?” She asked as Ryan reached the landing and headed toward her room. “What do you think you are doing?” Elizabeth hobbled up the stairs while Vincent came up behind her. Without paying attention to either of them, Ryan walked straight into her room and began searching through the drawers.

“This is how it works, Vincent. You talk about things. I get them done.” Looking through people’s personal belongings did not bother him. Ryan had made them both quite wealthy by doing just that. As he opened the drawers and rustled around in the few things that were there, he ignored the protest of the woman that stormed in behind him.

“Who do you think you are?” Elizabeth asked as the inconsiderate man opened every drawer in the dresser and searched the closet shelves. “Excuse me? Are you in the habit of barging into people’s private rooms and looking through their things?”

“This is not your room,” Ryan reminded her. “And if you want me to stop, give your brother the letter and I will be on my way.”

“Vincent!” Elizabeth yelled as Ryan emptied the flower vase onto the floor and looked in the bottom of the ceramic pot. She was more than insulted as the man continued to search every crevasse of the room.

 “Just give me the letter Beth,” Vincent ordered. He had seen Ryan tear through a room before. He knew it was unlikely that the American would stop until he found what he was looking for.

“I am not giving you anything!” She was furious at her brother as he allowed the man to ransack his house.

Paying no attention to her, Ryan pulled back the covers on her bed and checked under the pillows before lifting the mattress. When he was satisfied that the letter was not anywhere in the room, he walked straight up to Elizabeth and looked straight into her eyes.

Elizabeth had never felt as intimidated as she did at that moment. Ryan leaned closer to her with his wide brown eyes staring into hers. A chill ran down her spine as she looked at his features. The height of his forehead and the dark beard that ran along his narrow jaw was menacing. Elizabeth stared at the thick cut just above his eye, while he leaned closer to her.

“She has it on her.” His voice was deep and dangerous. Elizabeth had no doubt that Ryan was going to take it from her.

“Alright that’s enough,” Vincent stated as he pulled Elizabeth to his side. Elizabeth forced herself to look away as Ryan continued to stare.

“You told me to find it. She has it hidden in her clothes.” Ryan stood up straight and returned to the nonchalant personality that Vincent was use to.

 “Beth, just give me the letter,” Vincent said. He could see the pain in his sister’s eyes as she looked up at him. Shaking her head slowly, Elizabeth feared what they were about to do.

“I won’t give it to you.” Her voice cracked. Raising his eyebrows as if he were considering the option, Ryan looked at Vincent.

“Alright, keep it then.” Vincent moved past her and walked out of the room. Ryan was not accustomed to not getting what he wanted. With the charming personality that he clung to, he decided to offer her some information.

“The only thing that keeps you in danger is that letter. That is why your father got rid of it, and that is why he wanted you to get rid of it.” Standing to his full height once again, Ryan winked his eye at her and clicked his tongue twice, before offering an almost invisible smile. Then he walked out of the room as if nothing had ever happened.

After she had been left alone, Elizabeth placed her hand to her chest and began to breathe at last. Her temporary sanctuary had been destroyed. The one room that she had felt safe in had been turned upside down. Walking over to the dresser, Elizabeth grabbed the dress that Jacob had given her and her boots. She had no idea where she was going to go but having her father’s money at her side with his letter made her feel a little more confident. She stormed out of the room and walked down the steps hardly feeling the pain in her ankle at all.

“Mr. Halis,” Vincent called once he saw her on the stairs. Elizabeth walked up to him without fear since Ryan was not standing near him. Vincent knew that she would leave. He could hardly blame her. “See that Miss Drake is taken anywhere that she wants to go.”

“Yes, Sir,” the butler agreed as Elizabeth chanced a glance at the man that had ransacked her room.

“If she stays at a hotel, make sure it is at my expense,” he added.

“No, thank you,” she was quick to reply. “I am better off on my own.” Mr. Halis went into another room and rang the bell for the carriage. When he returned, Elizabeth had walked out of the house to wait on the step.