Page 40 of Part of Your World

A small chuckle escaped. "Now ye're spoutin' blarney, ye are."

Zane held up his hand as if making a pledge. "I swear that every word I said is true."

Had the Lord e'er made a man so fine as Zane Erickson? Kind and generous to a fault. Gentle. Compassionate. Understanding. No gentleman could compare. She might have been halfway in love with him before, but she was well on her way to bein' a complete goner now.

A knock on the sitting room door drew Muriel's gaze. Mrs. Erickson stood in the opening, her expression contrite. "May I . . . May I come in?"

Muriel stiffened and tugged her hand free of Zane's gentle hold. Gracious. As if she hadn't besmirched herself enough in his mother's eyes, now here she was practically canoodling with the woman's son in her personal sitting room. All right, no actual canoodling had occurred beyond mere hand holding, but appearances often counted more than truth in these scenarios.

Zane made no move to expand the distance between himself and Muriel, however. He simply gestured for his mother to enter. "Of course."

With every step that brought Mrs. Erickson closer, the false journal in Muriel's reticule grew heavier upon her lap. Glancing down, she half expected it to have burst the seams of the bag to expose her guilt.

When his mother reached them, Zane stood from his seat and offered it to her then fetched a different chair from across the room and situated it on Muriel's other side.

"Thank you, son." Mrs. Erickson settled in the chair like a swan settling upon a lake. So graceful and elegant.

Even with years of practice, Muriel doubted she'd ever possess such poise. Living up to this woman's expectations of ladyhood would be nigh impossible. All of Mrs. Underhill's criticisms about Muriel's lack of social polish, lack of education, and lack of refinement lifted their ugly heads to chatter their accusations in her ear. She shrank in her seat, her chin dipping to her chest and her shoulders rolling forward as if she could curl into a ball and roll away. How she wished she could!

"I owe you an apology, Miss Quinn."

Shock brought Muriel's chin up and immediately set it to wagging from side to side. "Oh, nay, ma'am. 'Tis me that should be apologizin'. I'm the one who lied."

A small smile touched the woman's lips. "That's true, but I'm the one who made the deal with Mrs. Underhill that set this entire series of events in motion. My husband acted poorly this evening, and I'll make no excuses for his terrible treatment of you, but he was right about one thing. I never should have made a deal with the matchmaker, not once I learned the currency she expected for our transaction."

Zane leaned forward, a frown marring his face. "What currency? I thought you said you made payments to her each week."

She turned toward her son, a slight flush coloring her cheeks. "I do. But she insisted upon . . . insurance. To guarantee the payments won't stop if she produces a quality match before the total sum is collected."

"What kind of insurance?" Tension radiated in Zane's voice.

His mother dipped her head. "A secret. One that could ruin your father."

Muriel blinked. Secrets? Was that what the book held? People's secrets?

"She has a system, you see," Zane's mother explained. "The secrets remain confidential as long as the payments are made. And everyone I talked to who has used her services assured me that Mrs. Underhill never extorts more than the agreed-upon sum. Once the final payment is made, the page is removed from the book and burned. But now that I've learned that your father has interfered, I fear what might come. Mrs. Underhill is not a woman to cross. She's powerful and ruthless. Those who fail to live up to their end of the contract pay a price. A steep one. Maybe she'll be appeased if I continue making my payments. But if not . . ."

Muriel's heart throbbed in her chest as she thought of her da and her sister. Yet now it seemed the risk they faced extended to Zane's family as well. They needed to find a way out.

Empathy throbbed in Muriel's heart. Tentatively, she reached out and touched the older woman's shoulder. "I know ye have no reason to trust me, Mrs. Erickson, and I've little power in this tangled situation, but I promise I'll do all I can to protect yer family as I strive to protect me own."

Perhaps she could remove the page with Mrs. Erickson's secret before she returned the journal to Mrs. Underhill. But what about all the other people with secrets written in that unholy book? What would become of them?

"That's kind of you, Miss Quinn, but I've learned that the best way to fight deception is with truth. And while I can't reveal the truth of my husband's secret, I can certainly reveal the delightful truth of my son's courtship." Mrs. Erickson found a smile and aimed it at Muriel. "I'd like to officially launch you into Galveston society, my dear. We'll start small, of course, only inviting close friends who can be counted on to lend their support. I thought I might host a musicale here at the house. My son has told me about your beautiful singing voice." She tossed Zane a fond and rather teasing glance. "Went on and on about it those first few days after his rescue, as a matter of fact." Zane's cheeks reddened, and Muriel couldn't stop a grin from blooming in response. "How better to win over society than to charm them with your beauty and talent?"

"What about Father?" Zane's question stole the smile from his mother's face. "You can't think he'd approve of such a thing."

"Leave your father to me. I'm sure we can arrange for him to be called away on business that night." The sourness in her voice made Muriel's heart ache.

What had happened to corrupt Mr. and Mrs. Erickson's happily ever after? Marriage was designed to bring people closer, to be true partners in life, one flesh that could not be torn asunder. Yet some force had been tearing these two asunder for quite some time, and the result was heartbreaking.

Mrs. Erickson addressed her son. "Zane, I've only ever wanted your happiness, and it's becoming clear to me that Miss Quinn is the young woman most likely to make you happy. Your grandfather and I stand ready to lend you our support regardless of your father's disapproval. He'll come around eventually." She sounded more hopeful than confident in that last statement, but no one could doubt her love and commitment to her son. "Let me do this, Zane. Please."

Zane clasped his mother's hand, and his voice rasped a bit as he agreed. "Thank you, Mother."

Mrs. Erickson blinked rapidly in an effort to keep the moisture in her eyes from leaking. "Excellent. The sooner the better, to my way of thinking. We'll plan for next Tuesday evening. We'll even ask Mrs. Underhill to serve as accompanist. I happen to know she delights in showing off her musical skills to society, so perhaps we can soothe her temper even as we demonstrate her matchmaking proficiency. She'll believe her plan is working, and hopefully, we will buy ourselves some time to find a way to escape her wrath."

Muriel only knew of one way to escape Mrs. Underhill's wrath, and Zane's mother had unwittingly provided the perfect cover. Access to the Erickson home while Mr. Erickson was away. A distracted audience. Perhaps even a little help from someone with experience picking locks.