A Beauty Refined Page 4

  “Georgia, I’m not like you. I don’t work for the purpose of keeping myself busy at something I love. You took on the job of baking because you wanted something more to do. I’m here because you were gracious enough to get me a job. I have to work to support myself and my son. Now I can’t remain here and work without fear of my husband causing us great harm.”

  “You could resign and reapply for the job you had in town. The hotel would surely take you back. I know you were highly thought of. You could stay with us just like you used to.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “But if Frederick is here for an extended time on business, I don’t imagine I would be safe in town. He will no doubt be there as much as he is here. No, I must take Kenny and leave altogether.”

  “But you’ve been so happy here.”

  It was true. Elizabeth couldn’t deny it. When she and Kenny arrived some years earlier, the city of Helena had welcomed her with open arms. She had found a little church that just happened to be the same one Georgia attended. She and Georgia became fast friends when the woman opened her home to Elizabeth and her son. They offered the safe housing that Elizabeth feared might never be found, and the church they attended made certain that she and Kenny were not left in need. With Georgia’s help, Elizabeth had managed to get a job with one of the hotels in town and immediately offered her earnings to Georgia. But Georgia and her son Ian were fixed quite well financially and instead encouraged Elizabeth to save her wages. Together they had a comfortable life, but Elizabeth couldn’t help feeling as though she and Kenny were an imposition. Then when it was announced that the Broadwater was being remodeled to open once again, Georgia encouraged Elizabeth to apply for the position of supervising housekeeper. She received not only the job but also this tiny cottage in which she and Kenny could live. Now it appeared she would lose it all.

  “Elizabeth, your husband and daughter won’t remain here permanently,” Georgia said in a manner that suggested she had a plan. She cocked her head slightly to the right and smiled. “So perhaps you need only leave Helena for a short time.”

  “But where am I to go for such a short time?” Elizabeth knew wherever she went she would have to immediately find work, and a good position would most likely require her to assure her employer of her desire to remain long-term. She could hardly take up a job with the intention of leaving as soon as her husband and daughter returned to Europe.

  “What if we were able to arrange a place where you and Kenny could stay for several weeks, even months? We could explain the situation to the manager. He likes you, and I feel certain if he knew the truth, he would help us.”

  “But I would still have to find a place for us to go.”

  “I already have a place in mind,” Georgia said with a smile. “My sister and her husband have a ranch near Townsend. It’s about thirty-five miles from here. This is always a very busy time of year for them. You could go and work for them through the summer. I’m thinking they would give you room and board in return. Your husband should be gone by fall, and then you and Kenny could return in time for school.”

  “Do you really suppose it could work?” Elizabeth finally felt the tiniest bit of hope.

  “I’m sure it could. I’ll send my sister a letter and explain the situation. I could even have Ian ride down and deliver it. That way there would be no delay.”

  “All right.” Elizabeth could see no other way. “I will need to speak to the manager. Do you suppose we could get a message for him to come here?”

  “I don’t imagine he would be very willing to leave. A large party is due in this evening. However, I know from the staff that Graf Von Bergen was said to have gone into Helena for the day. Phoebe left sometime after that with her maid and took the trolley into town. I would imagine you are safe to go see the manager yourself. Just take the back way.”

  “But what if Frederick has returned?”

  “Well, he’ll hardly be using the workers’ entrance. You’ll be able to slip right through to the manager’s office, and no one will be the wiser.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Very well. I’ll do that. Meanwhile, would you keep Kenny in town?”

  “Of course. Ian will be happy for the company.”

  “Ian, do you think Mama is sick?” Kenny asked. His expression betrayed his worry.

  “I think sometimes we all work too hard and need a rest. Your mama is a hard worker. I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

  Ian wasn’t at all sure what was going on, but he knew something wasn’t right. He had a feeling that the young woman he’d met at the natatorium was somehow related to Elizabeth, but precisely how remained to be seen. Not only that, but apparently the matter was of grave concern for Elizabeth. Concern enough that she had sent for him and his mother to come and fetch Kenny.

  “Mama does work really hard. She said that the Lord loves a hard worker.” Kenny looked up with a smile. “That’s why I want to work hard like you do. I want to be a lap . . . lap . . . i . . .” He frowned.

  “Lapidary,” Ian offered.

  “Yup. That’s what I want to be. I want to learn to do what you do and be really good at it.”

  Ian put another grinding lap in place and prepared to facet the lower portion of a sapphire. He had already secured the stone on the dop stick. Now Kenny was hovering over his shoulder. Ian was glad for the excuse to get the boy’s mind off of his mother’s condition.

  Ian held up the six-inch-long wooden stick. “Do you remember what this is called?”

  Kenny nodded. “A dop.”

  Ian smiled. “And what is it for?”

  “It holds the gemstone on one end. You cement it there so you can grind it.”

  “Right. We do that to make it more beautiful. By cutting it a certain way it allows light to reflect.” Kenny nodded again and Ian continued. “Now what do we do with the dop stick?”

  Kenny pointed to a cone-shaped device that was fixed in place to the right. “You put the other end, without the stone, in one of the holes on the jamb peg.”

  Ian took the dop stick and secured the pointed end into one of the many holes in the jamb peg cone and angled the other end toward the lap, letting the gemstone barely touch. “We have to figure out just the right angle that we need to facet the stone properly. Each of these holes represents a little different angle. Understand? Remember when I told you about degrees of an angle?”

  “Sure, but how do you know which hole to use?”

  “I study the stone first and see what would make it the best it can be. I look for the flaws. See, I want to facet the stone in such a way that we eliminate as many flaws as possible. I use the jamb peg so that the facets will be consistent. Once I choose a specific angle, the peg holds it in place so that I don’t make a mistake.”

  The door of the shop opened just then, and Ian rose from the table. “I’ll be back in a bit. You stay here.”

  Ian went to the front counter. “How can I help you?” he asked the gentleman.

  “I was told you could cut this stone for me.” The man held up a red stone. “It’s a ruby.”

  Ian took the stone and looked it over. “I’m sorry, but it’s not. It’s a garnet.”

  The man frowned. “But the man who sold it to me swore it was a ruby. He said he got it on the banks of the Missouri.”

  Ian smiled. “He may very well have thought it was a ruby. Unfortunately, a lot of untrained eyes mistake garnet for ruby. Montana garnets are quite plentiful and often much larger than rubies. Like your stone here.”

  “Well, I was going to have it made into a brooch for my wife.”

  “You can still do that. I would be happy to facet it for you. Why don’t you tell me what you have in mind?”

  Ian worked for nearly an hour with the man. Once they had figured out what he wanted and expected from the stone, the man left the shop and Ian returned to his worktable. Kenny, however, was no longer there.

  “Kenny?”

  Ian looked around the shop and found Kenny asleep on a s
tack of canvas tarps in the back room. Poor boy. No doubt worrying about his mother hadn’t allowed him to sleep well. Ian wondered again what it was all about. His mother had assured him she planned to get to the bottom of things. Elizabeth and Kenny hadn’t been at church on Sunday, and his mother feared the worst. She’d insisted Ian accompany her to the hotel earlier that morning, and once there, they’d learned that Elizabeth and Kenny had been sequestered away since Elizabeth’s fainting spell. Without any ado, Ian’s mother had insisted he take Kenny to town with him and keep him there overnight.

  Knowing his mother, Ian figured she had no doubt gotten to the bottom of things, but he also knew it may not have been easy. Elizabeth had always been closemouthed about her past. Even when people asked her direct questions about her deceased husband, she said very little. Ian preferred that to telling lies. He’d seen women lie for the silliest reasons, as well as some life-changing ones. That thought brought back memories of Nora.

  Such memories were always bittersweet. Nora had been his first and only love. She had come into his life without warning, and he had lost his heart to her immediately. Untested in the ways of love, he’d fallen hard. At her insistence, they had eloped, and only then did Ian learn about Nora’s deceptions. She had told him that her parents were perfectly fine with the young couple running away to marry. He soon found out that had been a lie—not the first, but perhaps one of the most damaging.

  For all of his youth, Ian had heard his younger sisters lie about one thing or another. His older brother assured him that women did that all the time. Several times Ian had caught his mother stretching or remaking the truth, and while he excused it, he hated it all the same. When people lied, even if it was just a slight deviation from the truth, he couldn’t trust them. That lack of trust divided Ian’s heart.

  He walked back to the worktable and sat down with a sigh.

  Shortly after five o’clock Kenny awoke and came to find Ian working. “I’m hungry,” the boy announced.

  Ian laughed. “Me too. I think we should call it a day and head over to the house. Grandma Harper will be back by six, and we’ll have supper. Until then, however, I think she left some pastries with jelly filling. You and I could probably share one and have a glass of milk. How about that?”

  Kenny smiled. “I could probably eat one by myself . . . and have the milk too.”

  Ian rubbed his head. “I’ll bet you could at that, but then if it ruined your supper, I’d never hear the end of it.”

  “I’m really hungry,” the boy insisted. “It won’t ruin my supper. I promise.”

  Phoebe knew her father was still working with his business associates. It was all very hushed, and she was to leave them alone no matter how long the meeting took. Her father had promised to try to meet her at six for dinner, but he told Phoebe she might have to dine alone. A quick glance at the clock showed that six o’clock was still an hour away. Perhaps a walk might best fill the time.

  Phoebe first checked the mirror to make certain her appearance was in order. Her father was quite firm about dressing formally for dinner. Looking at the reflection of the ivory-chiffon-over-peach-satin creation, Phoebe knew her father would be pleased. He’d chosen the gown for her in New York, commenting that it was as if the seamstress had created it with Phoebe in mind. At first she had feared it might make her look too pale, but instead it made her skin seem a warmer shade. Then again, she had spent quite a bit of time out in the sun, so perhaps her glow should be credited to that.

  The gown was cut in a simpler straight-line Empire fashion with sleeves that were fitted to just above the elbow and banded with peach satin and ivory lace. The neckline was fashionably cut, but not too low, and trimmed in ivory lace that matched the sleeves. A beaded band of peach satin was fitted just below her breast, and the same beading was intricately woven throughout the ivory chiffon.

  To this Phoebe added gloves, and she allowed Gerda to use some ornate combs in her hair. They were strategically placed amid the Gibson-girl styling, and Phoebe thought them far lovelier than one of her ostentatious hats.

  Feeling there was nothing else she could do to make herself presentable, she left her room and headed downstairs. She noted the looks of approval she received from the many gentlemen in the lobby. She did not acknowledge them, knowing it was expected of her class to be viewable but untouchable. Her finishing school headmistress had often said that a smile or even a glance would leave some men with the feeling that she might desire their company. Which she certainly did not. There was only one man who interested her at the moment—Ian Harper. She couldn’t seem to get him out of her thoughts, but for the life of her she couldn’t imagine why she kept thinking about the swimming instructor.

  Outside Phoebe walked leisurely along the path and admired the gardens. She’d been told that because the hotel had been closed for over ten years, the grounds had gone untended. The job of bringing them back to life had been quite laborious but worth the effort. Phoebe paused to study some roses. The delicate scent filled the air and made her smile. Mother had always loved roses. She walked a little farther and saw one of the bellmen approaching.

  “Excuse me,” she said.

  The young man paused and gave her a smile. “Yes, miss?”

  “I would like to take the path down to the lake. Can you point me in the right direction?”

  “Of course, miss.” He was young and gave his collar a nervous tug. “You just go around the hotel to the left.” He pointed. “If you go this way, it’s shorter and you can avoid having to walk too close to the billiards hall. You will need to cross the trolley and train tracks. The path is clear after that. You can even walk all the way around the lake, if you like.”

  “Danke. Thank you,” she corrected to English.

  Phoebe wasted no further time in conversation. She knew that if she was to be at supper by six, she didn’t have time to dally.

  She made a general survey of the landscape, noting that much of the area had been allowed to grow wild. Perhaps the new owner had no time to groom areas outside the immediate perimeters of the hotel and natatorium.

  The lake was small, but she supposed it to be sufficient. She had read in a brochure that the lake was man-made just for the spa. The hotel had canoe rentals if one was of a mind to enjoy such things. Phoebe had come with no interest in boating, but now that she was here, she had to admit that a boat ride might be quite enjoyable. Perhaps Ian Harper could show her how. . . .

  Pushing away that thought, she turned back toward the hotel, knowing that time was getting away from her. The fresh mountain air was cool and invigorating. It was as if the very nature around her had somehow embraced her spirit. Perhaps one day she would return to Montana. The thought made her smile.

  Deep in her reflections, Phoebe suddenly found herself at the back of the hotel near the laundry. Workers were carrying large white canvas bags, undoubtedly filled with towels and soiled bedding. The huge smokestack puffed heavy quantities of smoke overhead. No doubt laundry was something that had to be tended to round the clock.

  Several men were working to load ice from the icehouse, but otherwise, there wasn’t another soul to be seen. Perhaps the other guests were already at dinner. Phoebe took her skirt in hand and raised it just enough to speed up her walk. Father would be most unhappy to find her in the workers’ area of the hotel. But he’d be even angrier if she kept him waiting, and this was the shortest route back to the dining room. Being punctual was far more important to attend to than her modesty.

  “Besides, there’s no one of importance here to see me.” She hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud. A quick glance around, however, confirmed her statement.

  Just ahead were the kitchens, and not seeing any staff outside, Phoebe picked up her pace. She was just rounding the building, however, when she walked headlong into another woman.

  “I do apologize.” Phoebe straightened and dropped hold of her skirt. She smiled at the woman, then froze. The woman wore the same look of sh
ock that Phoebe knew was on her own face.

  She felt an icy tingle go down her spine. “Mutter?”

  4

  It looks as though you’ve won the lion’s share this afternoon, Graf Von Bergen.”

  Frederick nodded at the man who’d spoken. “Ja. I do enjoy a game now and then, Mr. Cooper. Gaming has long been a sport that I find worthwhile.” He left his man, Hubert, to collect his winnings. “And I must say this was a delightful way to spend the afternoon.”

  “I find it also allows a man to get to know his business associates in a better way,” one of the men replied.

  Von Bergen eyed the speaker with a shade of contempt. Mr. Thompson was neither a very good card player nor a man of interest. Thompson’s dealings with the American Sapphire Mining Company had caused one of his English associates to include him in this their first meeting, but Frederick had no desire for him to return.

  “My man will show you out. The hour is much later than I had planned. I’m afraid I’ve kept you all from your dinner.”

  Mr. Thompson pulled on his coat. “Nonsense. One can always get a meal anywhere. But a good card game is an entirely different matter.” He moved to the door of Frederick’s private hotel suite with the other men. “I hope we can repeat this very soon.”

  Frederick said nothing. He waited until all but the final man had gone. “Lord Putnam, I wonder if we might have a word in private?”

  The tall, skinny man turned and smiled. “But of course.” He smoothed his mustache with his index finger. “I had rather hoped we might.”

  Von Bergen motioned to the more comfortable chairs in his sitting room. “I didn’t wish to speak in front of the others. It has been most fascinating to study each of the men. They are much as you related to me in your posts.”

  Lord Putnam nodded and took a seat. “Each would rob you blind—if given the chance.”

  Frederick had no doubt of that. He had known Putnam for nearly a score of years, and but for some very damaging information he could use as blackmail against Putnam, Von Bergen knew this man would be no more trustworthy than the others.