Page 47 of Part of Your World

He shot her a penetrating look and immediately nodded. "Lead the way, love."

Da and Alana already knew about her agreement to retrieve Mrs. Underhill's stolen journal, so Muriel skipped the background and got right to the point.

"Zane's da figured out who I was, who Da was, and called me bluff at dinner a few nights ago. He demanded that Zane have nothin' to do with me, called me a gold-digging Jezebel with nothin' to offer their family but a bucketful of lies."

Da's face turned an alarming shade of red, but he held his tongue, waiting for the rest of the tale.

"Zane defended me and stayed by me side through it all, but Mrs. Underhill . . . when she found out, she threatened to ruin not only me, but the two of ye as well if I didn't find a way to get her journal. She told me of her powerful friends and how she could arrange for rumors and planted evidence to discredit both ye, Da . . ." She turned her attention to Alana. ". . . and Liam."

Muriel hung her head, shame hurting her heart. "Ye were right, Da. I never should've gotten involved with Mrs. Underhill. She's vile and vicious and doesn't care who she hurts to get what she wants. I don't care 'bout her blackenin' me name, but the thought of her harmin' either of ye . . . it tears me up inside. Zane is gonna help me find the journal, but there's a chance his da's hidden it where we won't find it. I needed to warn ye of the storm brewin'. Give ye time to batten the hatches."

"Muriel. Look at me." Her da's voice brooked no argument.

She tipped up her chin.

"I can fight me own battles, love. Ye don't need to fight 'em fer me. I can handle a few rumors. Even if this Underhill woman succeeds in ruinin' me reputation, I'll find me way. Maybe not here, but here's not the only place a man with my skills can work. I trust the Lord to provide."

"As do I," Alana said, her tone fierce. "This matchmaker wouldn't be the first snooty woman to try to blame Liam for something going missing at the hotel." She pushed up from the edge of the bed where she'd been sitting and stood like a soldier awaiting inspection. "Quinns don't cower. Nor do we throw our little sisters to the wolves to save our own skins. We stand together. Faith and family. Forever."

Da rose to his feet as well. "Aye. Faith and family." He held out his hand to Muriel. "'The Lord is on my side,'" he quoted, "'I will not fear: what can man do unto me?'"

Muriel blinked back tears as she stood and clasped first her da's hand and then her sister's. What could man—or woman—do to them? She prayed the answer would be nothing, but deep down she couldn't shake the fear that they were about to find out just how terrible the answer to that question could be.

Chapter 21

"She's left the academy."

Octavia Underhill's fingers slipped and played a discordant note on the piano in her front parlor. She had precious little time to perfect the difficult piece she intended to perform at the Ericksons' soirée on Tuesday and didn't appreciate her maid's interruption. Yet when she turned to scold Vanessa for her ill-timed pronouncement, the weighted look in the girl's eyes gave her pause.

"Who left the academy?"

"Miss Quinn, ma'am. She packed up her belongings not thirty minutes ago and left in Mr. Erickson's carriage. I questioned the nun on duty, and she told me that Miss Quinn has decided to return home and will no longer be boarding at the Ursuline Academy."

Why, that ungrateful little tramp. Running home to Daddy as if she didn't have other commitments to honor. Octavia rose from the piano bench and paced across the center of the room. Did she think she'd be safe from Octavia's reach just because they no longer shared a roof? Ha! She'd not escape so easily. Octavia had tentacles in all areas of business on this island. All she had to do was call in a favor . . . but wait . . .

"She left with Zane, you say?"

Vanessa's chin dipped. "Yes, ma'am."

So in all likelihood the musicale was still in play. "Go to the Ericksons and question that footman of yours. See if he's heard anything about the party on Tuesday being canceled. If not, then we will proceed as planned. Otherwise, we'll need to pivot and execute the contingency strategy."

Octavia stood behind the settee and ran her fingertips along the curved wooden trim of the sofa back, her mind busy organizing details, plot points, and variables to ensure an airtight scheme.

"What contingency is that, ma'am?"

Vanessa's voice buzzed like an irritating gnat in her ear. Hadn't the girl learned by now to leave her mistress alone when she was in the midst of a plotting session? Interruptions were vastly annoying.

"The boy," Octavia said with a wave of her hand. "The one you spotted at the beach when you followed our little chickadee on her outing. He's her weakness. One we can exploit."

"He's a . . . a child, ma'am."

Octavia spun to face the upstart who dared question her. "He's a pawn in a larger game. One your feeble brain is apparently too small to comprehend."

Vanessa's eyes widened, and she retreated in the face of Octavia's fury. As she should.

Seizing her advantage, Octavia stalked forward, the aroma of weakness feeding her craving to subjugate someone. She'd prefer that someone be Horace Erickson, or even that infuriating Irish chit who seemed bent on causing trouble, but Vanessa was handy, and she needed to be put firmly into her place. Just because Octavia had come to rely on the little maid did not mean she couldn't be replaced if she stepped out of line.

"I gave you an assignment." She enunciated each syllable with clipped precision. "I don't pay you to express your opinion. I pay you to carry out my wishes. Now do as you're told."