A Beauty Refined

by Tracie Peterson

  Kenny swam to the side where Phoebe stood. “Did you see me?”

  “I did,” Phoebe said, bending down. “You did quite well. I’m very impressed.”

  Kenny seemed pleased with her praise. “Ian’s a good teacher. You’ll see when you let him show you how to swim. Then pretty soon you’ll learn how to dive too.”

  Phoebe straightened. Her expression sobered as Kenny kicked off from the side and began to swim across the pool. Seeing her face, Ian wondered if she was worried about her mother and the meeting that was taking place. He’d thought earlier she might talk about it, maybe not in so many words, but in a broad manner. She hadn’t, however, citing complications—something that Ian was only too familiar with.

  Ian swam to where Phoebe stood. “It was kind of you to come. It means a lot to the boy.”

  “He’s very sweet, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.” She looked at Ian with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. “I would have been here sooner, but your mother gave me a plate of food and I felt I needed to put it in my room before coming here. Then when I got back to my room, my maid needed my attention and . . . well, it was . . .” She fell silent.

  “Complicated?”

  She met his gaze, and Ian felt his heart nearly pound out of his chest. “Yes. Complicated.”

  He wanted nothing more than to jump out of the pool and take her in his arms. She looked so worried and frightened. Knowing what he did about her father and mother, Ian couldn’t blame her.

  “I . . . uh . . . need to go,” she said, backing up a couple of steps.

  Ian could tell by the look in her eyes that she was just as affected by the moment as he was, and it made him want to say that he knew what she was thinking—what was worrying her. He wanted to declare that he would help her and see her through this difficult time, but of course . . . he couldn’t.

  “Say, I have an idea.” Ian glanced quickly back at Kenny. “How would you like to go fishing?”

  “Fishing?” Phoebe asked. “I’ve never been, so I can hardly say whether it would be something I’d like to do.”

  “Well, since your father is tied up, I thought it might be the perfect time.”

  “Fishing.” Phoebe seemed to consider the matter a moment. She had no chance to reply, however. Kenny had heard the word as well and eagerly swam to join them.

  “Can we go fishing?” he asked.

  “I was just inviting Miss Phoebe to go with us.” Ian smiled as Kenny launched himself from the pool. “I thought we could take her to our special place.”

  Kenny’s face lit up. “Please, Miss Phoebe. Please come fishing with us. It’s a real pretty place. You’ll like it a lot. Maybe you can teach me some more of those German words.”

  She looked at the boy oddly for a moment and then turned back to Ian. He saw something flash across her expression. It was a look of questioning, but as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

  Finally she nodded. “I think that would be fun. Let me go change my clothes.”

  16

  Phoebe had little desire to thread a worm on a hook, but once Ian had done the deed and cast the line in the water, she accepted the pole. When his fingers brushed across her own, Phoebe felt her face flush and her heart pick up speed. She ducked her head and looked away, but not before she saw a longing in Ian’s eyes that matched her own.

  “Ah . . . this isn’t all . . . that difficult,” he stammered and moved back a couple of steps. “If you feel a little tug on the line that probably means you have a fish on the other end.”

  “And then what?” Phoebe asked, hoping her nerves would calm. She looked with great doubt at where the line disappeared into the water.

  “Then you pull the fish out,” Kenny said without waiting for Ian to reply. “It’s real easy.”

  “Indeed, you make it sound so.”

  Phoebe had never been to this secluded area along the meandering creek. It was beautiful and cool, and she thought it might be very pleasant to never leave. Being here with Ian and even Kenny gave her a peace of mind and joy that she seemed unable to find anywhere else. Of course, her growing attraction to Ian left her confused as to what she should do. Phoebe had never been in love before, and venturing into that territory was more frightening than she cared to admit.

  “Be careful, Kenny,” Ian called out, pulling her thoughts back to the task at hand.

  Kenny moved up and down the bank, pulling his line through the water. It was almost like a dance. He seemed so happy and carefree, and Phoebe envied that. Had she ever known such sheer pleasure from something so casual?

  “He never sits still.”

  Ian’s comment drew Phoebe’s attention. “I’ve noticed that.” She smiled. “I admire his ability to enjoy life no matter where he is. I’ve never seen him unhappy.”

  Ian shrugged. “At his age there are few problems that seem as insurmountable as they do to us.”

  “Who is he, Ian?”

  “Excuse me?” Ian looked more than a little surprised.

  “He isn’t your son, yet I’ve never seen him in the care of anyone else.”

  “Yes, well, he’s the son of a friend of ours—my mother and I. He’s been helping me at the shop since school’s out. We’ve been good friends for a long time now.”

  “I got one!” Kenny yelled. “I got one!” He yanked his pole upward, and the line pulled up from the water with a good-sized fish attached at the end.

  Phoebe couldn’t help but be excited for him. “Das ist gut, Kenny. He looks quite big.”

  “He’s gonna make a good supper. Mama will be so surprised when she gets back from her meeting.”

  This was the first comment he’d made about his mother in some time. The only other thing Phoebe could recall was his telling her that she was pretty like his mother.

  Ian helped Kenny take the fish from the hook and put it into a fish bucket they had in the water. “All right, now go catch a dozen more,” Ian encouraged.

  Phoebe felt her own line flutter and gazed down at the water in surprise. When she felt a decided tug on the line, she jumped up and called for Ian. “I think there’s a fish on my line!”

  Ian left Kenny and came to where Phoebe now stood. She quickly thrust the pole in his direction, but Ian shook his head. “No, you need to see this through. Pull up, and I’ll get him with the net.”

  She felt completely ill at ease with the task but did as instructed with Kenny cheering her on. Finally Ian had the large fish in the net. He stepped toward her with the thrashing beast. “He’s bigger than yours, Kenny,” Ian called out.

  “Das ist gut,” the boy yelled back in reply. Phoebe and Ian laughed, which only served to egg Kenny on. “I’m gonna get an even bigger one. We’ll have a contest.” Kenny laughed and then caught sight of something that caused even more excitement. “Ian, your pole is moving.”

  Ian handed Phoebe the net’s handle and quickly went to his pole. He easily retrieved the fish but, much to his disappointment, noted it was the smallest of the three. “I’ll starve if they’re all this size.”

  “You can certainly have mine,” Phoebe announced. “I wouldn’t know what to do with him anyway. In fact, I believe I’ll just watch for a little while. This is far more work than I counted on.”

  Ian laughed and took his fish from the hook. “I’ll just throw him back and let him grow a little more.” He tossed the fish into the creek, then came back to take the net from Phoebe. “But this one, we keep.”

  Phoebe sat back and watched them continue to fish. She was delighted to see Kenny so happy. He jumped from one perch to another, all while managing the pole. He seemed quite at home, and his antics made Phoebe laugh.

  After an hour or so, Ian determined that they had more than enough for supper. Phoebe thought back to Kenny’s comment that his mother would be surprised.

  When she gets back from her meeting.

  The words echoed in Phoebe’s head like a warning bell. She looked at Kenny, only this time she gave him
a thorough study. He had always reminded her of someone—a childhood playmate perhaps—but only now did it hit her who that someone was. Dieter. When she was quite young, Dieter had looked just like Kenny.

  Her stomach clenched. Her mother had said that she needed to tell Phoebe something, but someone else was involved. She had presumed at the time Mutter was speaking of Vater, but now it seemed all too clear.

  “I’m going to go look for sapphires,” Kenny told Ian.

  “Aren’t you hungry? We have some sandwiches and cookies, and I don’t think we should make Miss Phoebe wait too long to eat.”

  “You can start without me,” Kenny replied, surprising them both. “I want to find a sapphire for Mama.” He wandered down the bank, studying the ground as he went.

  Phoebe felt almost dizzy as she considered the truth of who Kenny was. She looked at Ian and knew he would realize something was wrong. She did her best to force a smile and act nonchalant, but his expression told her she’d failed.

  She looked away. There was nothing to be done but ask the question.

  “Are you all right?” Ian asked. He knelt down beside her. “You look pale.”

  Phoebe turned and met his eyes. She bit her lip and momentarily lost herself in Ian’s gaze.

  “Phoebe?” He reached out and touched her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  “Kenny.” She spoke the name and watched as Ian’s expression changed. “He’s my little brother . . . isn’t he?”

  Frederick Von Bergen despised being summoned to a meeting by anyone, even the kaiser himself. But even more he hated being called to a meeting by someone he didn’t know. Throughout his life he had made it a priority to be the one commanding each situation in his life. Now someone else was taking that position, and he resented it—greatly. Still, given it could prove to be advantageous to his financial situation, he didn’t feel he could ignore the matter.

  “I am glad you could come,” an amiable older man said with a smile. He ushered Frederick inside, then paused in the church foyer. “I hope it did not inconvenience you.”

  “It did, but your note sounded as if the matter were life and death.”

  The stranger nodded. “Won’t you come with me?”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  The tall man turned and smiled. “Indeed, where are my manners? I’m Pastor Clearwater. This is the church where I minister, and you are Mr. Von Bergen.”

  “Graf Von Bergen.”

  The pastor smiled. “Of course.”

  “What do you want with me?” Frederick was reaching the limit of his patience. “You sent me a note ordering me to be here today, but I have no idea of what it’s about.”

  “I’m sorry that you thought my invitation an order. I assure you that while it was most important that you come, your presence was requested—not ordered.”

  His reply did little to calm Von Bergen’s anger. “I am a man of great importance, and my schedule is quite full. I hardly have time for visiting churches, and if this is a request for some sort of charitable contribution, then you should know I hold little value in religion.”

  The insufferable man had the audacity to laugh. “Neither do I. Religion is a weapon used by the devil.”

  Frederick frowned. He was usually quite good at figuring men out, but this preacher had him quite perplexed.

  “Now, if you’ll just follow me.” Pastor Clearwater began walking down the aisle of the small sanctuary. “There is someone here who wishes to see you. We thought this setting more fitting to sustain calm and clarity of thought.”

  It was only as he moved to follow the preacher that Frederick noticed there was a woman sitting in the front pew of the sanctuary. A straw hat covered her head, giving no indication of her age. Frederick hoped she was merely here to pray and had nothing to do with whatever it was the pastor had on his mind. He had no desire to meet some simpering woman. Unless, of course, she happened to be rich.

  When they reached the front of the church, Pastor Clearwater stopped and turned once again to face Frederick. As he did this, the woman stood and turned as well.

  Frederick frowned, his gaze fixed on the pastor. “What is this all about?”

  “Guten Tag, Frederick.”

  The voice, a mix of British-accented German, was one he’d not heard in many years, but he recognized it all the same. Frederick hesitated to look at the woman. His heart raced, and he felt as if an icy hand had taken hold, physically forcing him to turn to her.

  “Elizabeth.” He barely breathed the name at the sight of the wife he’d not seen in ten years.

  17

  Elizabeth fixed her husband with a look that she prayed was devoid of emotion. In his eyes she could see the anger—anger she knew only too well. The tight set of his mouth and reddening face left her little doubt that he was about to explode in rage. If she dared to show any reaction, Elizabeth knew it would only make things worse.

  “How dare you demand my coming here?” Each word was stated in guarded precision.

  “Why don’t we sit,” the pastor suggested.

  “No. I won’t be here long enough,” Frederick replied. “I have no business with this woman. She is of a wanton nature. Did she tell you that she deserted her family? That she slipped off in the night, most likely to meet a lover, and left her husband and young children behind?”

  Elizabeth felt her knees tremble and knew if she didn’t sit, she might well collapse. This meeting was much too taxing. She sank to the pew. “You know that is a lie, Frederick.”

  “A lie?” He stared down at her in obvious contempt. “You deny that you left without a word?”

  “No.” She squared her shoulders and returned his gaze. She had to be strong for Kenny’s sake. For Phoebe’s too. “I had no choice. However, I also had no lover and have never done anything to compromise myself or my values.”

  “Please have a seat, Mr. . . . Graf Von Bergen.” The pastor motioned to a straight-backed chair that had been placed not far from where Elizabeth sat. He, meanwhile, took a seat beside Elizabeth on the pew. “We should address this matter in a civilized manner.”

  Frederick gave a harsh laugh. “I can see she has filled your mind with her lies.”

  The pastor looked at Elizabeth as if to question her willingness for him to continue. They had already discussed how this meeting might play out, and now Elizabeth nodded, giving Pastor Clearwater clear permission to proceed.

  “Graf Von Bergen, the mistakes of the past cannot be undone. However, there is a great deal at stake for the future.”

  “She is a liar and a schemer. She will stop at nothing to destroy those who love her.”

  “You know that is untrue, Frederick. You are the destructive one. You know very well why I had to leave.”

  “Because you refused to obey your husband.” He leered down at her. “Deny that.”

  Elizabeth swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “You made my life unbearable with your violent temper. You beat me as one might beat a savage dog.”

  Frederick’s face reddened. “More lies.” He looked to the pastor. “As a man of God, you should honor and respect the vows taken between a man and his wife.”

  “I assure you I do.” Pastor Clearwater seemed completely at ease. “It was I who encouraged Elizabeth to have this meeting. We both wanted to address this situation in a manner pleasing to God.”

  “Bah! Don’t hide behind your religiosity. I have no tolerance for such addle-minded nonsense. I do not believe in a deity, nor will I. This woman chose her path and destroyed her family. I will divorce her and see that she never bothers me again.”

  “Would you not first be willing to hear her reasons for taking such drastic actions?”

  “He knows very well the reasons. He was given to violent fits of rage. Rage so blinding that he beat me whenever the notion took him. He was so abusive in his actions that he caused me to miscarry three babies.” Elizabeth stared hard at her husband. “A fact he knows very well
to be true.”

  Frederick’s eyes narrowed. “You have no way of proving that.”

  “There were witnesses to your actions. We had a house full of witnesses.” Elizabeth felt her strength returning just a bit. “I believe any one of those servants would be able to testify to your behavior. I know that my lady’s maid would most certainly attest to the miscarriages and the beatings that preceded them. You’ll recall she left shortly after I did, and we still manage to correspond from time to time.”

  “It’s of no matter, Elizabeth. I simply do not care. You left me and our children.”

  “And you lied to them! You told them I was dead. You made our daughter suffer grievous pain, all because you were too angry to be honest.”

  “You know nothing about our daughter and what she endured.”

  “Oh, but I do.” Elizabeth rose and faced her husband. “And she knows about your lies.”

  Frederick looked momentarily taken aback. “You . . . you have conspired with her?”

  “I have seen her at the hotel. That is how I knew you were here. I work for the Broadwater Hotel, and when I learned of your presence I knew I would need to resolve our separation.”

  “It will be resolved,” he countered. “I will divorce you on grounds of infidelity.”

  “I have not been unfaithful to our marriage,” Elizabeth said. “Furthermore, I have shown your letter not only to Phoebe but to Pastor Clearwater.”

  “What letter?” The veins at his temples seemed to bulge. “I wrote you no letter.”

  “You did.” She pulled the missive from her pocket. “After I wrote to Phoebe several times at the boarding school you forced her to attend, you sent this threatening letter to me. Or do you not remember that?”

  Frederick stared at the letter for a moment. The look on his face betrayed the truth. “So what if I did? It changes nothing.”

  “Phoebe knows your violence was the reason I left.” Elizabeth drew a deep breath. “I was with child, and I couldn’t stand by and let you take his life as you had the others.”