A Beauty Refined

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A Beauty Refined Page 18

by Tracie Peterson


  “What child? I knew nothing about another baby. You are making all of this up for the benefit of gaining sympathy. Sympathy which you do not deserve. I might very well have disciplined you in the past, but if you are honest, you will not deny that you defied me and brought such matters on yourself.”

  Elizabeth slowly shook her head. “I learned I was to have another baby, and the realization was both welcome and terrifying. I knew that in order to protect the child, I would have to separate from you. I planned to take Phoebe with me, knowing full well that you had already poisoned Dieter’s mind against me. You know that I wanted Phoebe to join me. I sent a family friend to talk to you, but you threatened his life and mine, as well as any living family left to me.

  “You were insufferable, Frederick. Your gambling robbed me of my family treasures and inheritance, and your temper very nearly took my life. I had no choice but to leave, and I wanted Phoebe to leave with me. I didn’t want her to suffer your temper and acts of rage. I told her all of this.”

  “When? When did you have a chance to tell her anything?”

  “When you first arrived at the hotel. I knew you were in residence and decided to keep my presence hidden. One day, when I learned you and Phoebe had both gone out, I went to speak with my manager. On my way I ran into Phoebe. Apparently she had returned early, and I didn’t realize it. However, I cannot lie and say I was displeased. It was wonderful to finally let her know the truth.

  “She was stunned to be sure. We had a chance to talk, and I let her read the letters I’d written her years earlier. The letters you had the school return to me unopened. I saved them for just such an occasion, and Phoebe could see for herself the truth of my love for her. I also had her read this letter—the one in which you told me you’d rather see her dead than with me. The one where you threatened to kill me.”

  Frederick finally seemed to understand the full truth of all that had happened right under his nose. “She has known that you were here all of this time?”

  “Yes. I asked her not to say anything to you. I wanted time to figure out what I should do. I needed to protect myself and . . . my son.”

  “Son? What son? What are you talking about?” He looked to Pastor Clearwater. “She declares herself to have honored our vows, but now she tells me she has another child. Who is his father?”

  “I told you, Frederick. The night I left you I had just learned that I was to have another baby. I knew in order to save his life I would have to leave.”

  “You had another child by me? My child, and you kept him from me?”

  The fire in his eyes sent Elizabeth back in time to all those horrible rages she’d endured. For a moment all she wanted to do was run. Run away again and hide.

  “It’s all right, Elizabeth,” Pastor Clearwater said, standing. He took hold of her arm. “You are safe. God is watching over you.”

  Frederick moved toward her, but the pastor positioned himself between them. “I will not allow you to harm this woman. I suggest you take a moment to calm down.”

  Frederick looked for a moment as if he would hit the taller man. “I want the truth. Where is my son?”

  “He is . . . he is safe.” Elizabeth pushed down her fears and stood her ground. “And he will remain so. I can see you haven’t changed, and I will not subject another child to your rage.”

  “You will have no choice. I will seek out legal help and take him from you. I have wealth and the support of powerful men. I even have the governor’s ear—the governor of this state. I will have little trouble taking our son.”

  The smug look on her husband’s face sent a chill through Elizabeth. She would never allow for him to take Kenny. It was time she use the knowledge she had against Frederick. It was her only hope of regaining control. However, before she could speak, Frederick posed a question.

  “Does Phoebe know about her brother?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I didn’t tell her for fear her loyalty to you might cause her to say something. I had to make certain that you learned about Kenny only when I was ready for you to.”

  “Kenny? That’s the boy’s name?”

  “Kenneth. But I call him Kenny.”

  “After your father, I presume.”

  She nodded. “Yes, just as Dieter was named for yours. Phoebe has seen the boy but has no idea that he is her brother. She believes him to be the son of some hotel worker.”

  Frederick’s expression darkened. “I will deal with her later. I will not allow for such deception and underhanded ways.”

  “You allow for them well enough when you are the instigator.” Elizabeth crossed her arms against her breast as if she could somehow put a wall of protection between herself and her husband. “Phoebe knows nothing. And she did nothing to deceive you. Did you ask her if she’d seen her mother? Of course not. You told her I was dead.”

  “It doesn’t matter. She withheld the truth, and that is just as bad.”

  “Well, sometimes withholding the truth is necessary to protect others. Just as Rahab did with the spies.”

  “What are you babbling about now? Who is this Rahab?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “She was a woman in the Bible. When Joshua, the leader of the Israelites, sent spies into Jericho, she hid them from the officials. God blessed her for her actions, just as He has blessed me for mine.”

  “That blessing has come to an end. You were a fool to ask for this meeting. You had to realize I would never allow you to keep my son from me.”

  “You have no choice, Frederick.” She looked at the pastor for a moment. “Pastor Clearwater, I need to speak alone with my husband. What I have to say is something he would not wish to be shared, and in order to make my point with him, I must keep this confidence . . . at least for the time.”

  Pastor Clearwater nodded and then looked at Frederick. “I will not allow you to lay a hand on this woman. If you should, you may rest assured that I will have you arrested. We do not allow men to beat our women in America.”

  Frederick’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you’d have a better country if you did.”

  The taller man shook his head. “Perhaps it’s the men who would benefit from the beating.” He turned to Elizabeth, assuring her again that he would be nearby in case she had any trouble. Then he walked away, with a firm look at Frederick, allowing Elizabeth to speak to him alone.

  Frederick turned on her, his face reddening and his voice rising as he spluttered in German, “What is it you wish to tell me? Speak now and then I will show you the power I wield. Not only will I gain control of our son, but I will see you put in prison.”

  “I don’t think so, Frederick,” Elizabeth answered in German, moving back a pace. She hated his nearness, and despite the pastor’s promise to assist her, she knew it would be easy for her husband to strike out. “You see, I know all about the Sapphire Duchess and your dealings with her.”

  His eyes widened, but he remained calm. “Of course you do. That was never something hidden from you.”

  “But your cheating her was. I learned about it early in our marriage. Quite by accident, but afterward I made it my duty to know.”

  He paled. “You know nothing.”

  “That’s where you are wrong, Frederick. You kept all of your transactions recorded in a small leather-bound journal in your desk. I copied those entries. I know the dates and places you went, as well as the funds given you by the duchess and the money you cheated her out of. At least I know of all that took place prior to my escape.”

  He raised his fist. “How dare you! You accuse me? You are in no position to threaten me. I will see you dead.”

  “And if I die, those records will go immediately to the duchess.” She paused and shook her head as he lowered his hand. “You see, Frederick, you taught me well about deception. You also taught me the importance of having power. Until now, I was never quite sure how I could ever make use of what I know, but now I am confident. I know the truth, and unless you want the duchess to know as well, you will
leave this country without bothering me or our son further. You may have your divorce—I will happily accept that conclusion to our farce of a marriage—but you will not have anything to do with Kenny.”

  “You think you have this all figured out, don’t you?” He laughed in his cruel way. “Threaten me as you will, but you are nothing to me, and I will stop at nothing to see you removed from my life. You will bring me your evidence, or I will simply have you watched and our child taken from you at the first possible moment.”

  Elizabeth knew he would make good his threats, but she couldn’t back down now. “I have already spoken with a lawyer. If anything happens to me, he has instructions to send my evidence directly to the duchess. If you steal our son away, I will mail her the papers myself. You will be arrested and tried for your crimes, and I will happily bear testimony against you.”

  Frederick let out a growl. “You haven’t won yet, Elizabeth. I will best you at this as I have bested every obstacle ever laid before me. This battle has only begun.”

  “Make careful choices, Frederick. I have very little mercy where you are concerned.”

  It was well after midnight, and Phoebe was surprised that her father had still not returned from meeting with her mother. No doubt the meeting was long over with, but for some reason her father hadn’t returned to the hotel. Throughout the evening she had tried to put aside her worries and read. She’d taken her meal alone, and from time to time, like now, she walked the length of the room. Pacing back and forth seemed to help with her nervous energy, but it didn’t keep her from replaying the events of the day. First the meeting early that morning with her mother and then her revelation that afternoon that Kenny was her brother.

  Ian hadn’t even tried to deny it. Instead he told her that Kenny knew nothing, and he’d appreciate it if she would wait to speak with her mother before sharing the truth with Kenny. Phoebe had been stunned, but as the shock wore off, she found herself wondering why it hadn’t occurred to her much sooner. Even so, the truth pleased her. She adored Kenny and couldn’t be happier to learn that he was her brother. She had always wanted to have a close relationship with Dieter, but Father had insisted that such things were only desired by women. Dieter had much too much to learn about being a graf. There was no time to play brother to a little sister.

  Gerda entered the room with a yawn. “Your vater has still not returned. He must have been delayed in his affairs.”

  Phoebe turned and saw her maid was quite spent. “I think I’ll go to bed. I can speak to him in the morning.”

  “Very good.” Gerda yawned again. “Will you need anything more from me?”

  “No.” Phoebe waved her away. Gerda had already prepared everything, including turning down the covers. “I’m fine. Get some rest.” The maid nodded and left Phoebe standing in the middle of the room.

  Phoebe paced a bit more before she went to the window and looked out on the front lawn of the hotel. Her father had taken a carriage to town and would no doubt return the same way. Perhaps she would sit at the window and watch for him. But even if she did see him approach, Phoebe wasn’t exactly sure what she would do. She wanted very much to confront her father regarding the truth, but at the same time she feared he might again unleash his temper upon her. Perhaps it was foolish to stay in the hotel.

  “Maybe I should sneak out and stay with Mutter.” She knew that somewhere in the conversation between her mother and father she would have been mentioned. If her mother mentioned that Phoebe knew about her, there was sure to be trouble.

  “But I’m forewarned,” she murmured. “I can best Vater if need be.” But even as she spoke the words, Phoebe had doubts. He had been able to lock her in her room without any trouble, and he had slapped her. She bit her lip, not knowing whether to stay or go.

  She wanted to confront him about the truth in private. If she remained here, she would be able to do exactly that, and no one else had to be the wiser. There was no sense in wasting any more time in worry. Morning would come soon enough, and she could speak to him over breakfast.

  Climbing into bed, Phoebe found herself thinking again about what must have taken place. She wondered if her mother had told her father about Kenny. She wondered if Mutter had told him that Phoebe had no intention of marrying the old duke and instead planned to remain in America. When sleep finally came, Phoebe found her dreams torturous and full of still more unanswered questions.

  “Get out of that bed!”

  Phoebe woke to the harsh command of her father, followed by his throwing off her covers and dragging her to her feet. Without warning he backhanded her and sent her backward onto the bed once again.

  She had no time to react or even speak before he had her back on her feet. He shook her violently. “You . . . you . . . are a . . . lying . . .” German words trailed into momentary silence. “Stupid woman.”

  The smell of liquor was strong on his breath, and given his muttered words, Phoebe was confident her father was drunk. No doubt her mother’s presence had caused him a great deal of discomfort. He continued to shake her until Phoebe thought her neck might snap. She had to find a way to protect herself. She pushed at his chest, momentarily surprising him. He wasn’t to be deterred, however, and grabbed her again.

  “You knew . . . knew your mother was here. You knew it and kept it from me. You deserve . . . my . . . wrath.” He swung his arm forward but missed her and momentarily threw himself off balance.

  Phoebe took the opportunity to move away from him. “I didn’t lie to you—you lied to me. You told me Mutter was dead. You let me suffer all those years believing she was lost to me forever.”

  Her father regained his footing and headed right at her. Phoebe knew that she was no match for the man. She spied Gerda in the doorway to her room. “Go get help, Gerda.”

  She barely got the words out before her father’s fist connected with her face. Phoebe saw stars and fell back against the wall. She would have crumpled to the floor, but her father had ahold of her shoulders and pounded her back against the wall again and again.

  “I will make you sorry you were ever born. You think you can defy me. You think . . . you think you can get away . . . from me. I’m your vater.”

  Phoebe tried to ward off her father’s attack but was much too weak. She thought of Mutter telling her that God cared about her—that Phoebe had only to reach out to Him.

  As blackness began to consume her mind, Phoebe found herself praying. If you really do care about me, please help me.

  18

  When Phoebe awoke, the first thing she knew was pain. Every part of her body screamed out in agony. Her eyes felt like lead weights, and she had to force them open. As her vision cleared, Phoebe saw Gerda approach with a knotted towel. Something was inside the bundle. As Gerda moved toward her, Phoebe flinched and pulled away, crying out in pain.

  “Just don’t move. I’ve brought some ice and it should help with the swelling. Your vater has gone to bed, and Hubert will let us know when he awakens.”

  At this, the memory of her father’s rage came back. Phoebe didn’t want to think of it, however. She knew now that her mother had been justified in running away. She only wished that she too had been able to go with her.

  Phoebe settled back against the pillow, and Gerda touched the bundle to her face. Somehow her maid had been able to get ice despite the hour.

  “You must lie still and rest. The ice will help, but . . . well . . . I don’t know if you have any broken bones. Hubert said we mustn’t send for the doctor.”

  “Of course . . .” Phoebe stopped talking. The effort hurt too much. Her lip felt swollen. She had been about to offer a sarcastic comment about how they couldn’t do anything to bring shame or questioning to her father. However, between the pain and the knowledge that Gerda was his spy, Phoebe thought it senseless to speak her mind.

  “Your vater surely didn’t mean to cause such harm, after all.” Gerda had the audacity to smile. “He was drunk and, well . . . when men are drunk the
y often behave poorly, ja?”

  Phoebe could hardly believe the woman was defending him. How could any woman see another beaten like this and offer up an excuse for the offender? Obviously Gerda’s loyalties were with Graf Von Bergen, even now.

  The mantel clock chimed the hour. It was five in the morning. Gerda went to the draperies and pulled them back. The skies were just starting to lighten. Phoebe had no idea how long it had been since her father first yanked her out of bed to begin his assault. What she did know was that she wasn’t going to lie around and allow him to do it again.

  “Leave me,” she ordered.

  Gerda looked at her and shook her head. “But you need to—”

  “I need to sleep.” Phoebe closed her eyes. Her head throbbed, and her abdomen felt as though an elephant were sitting atop it.

  “Are you certain you wouldn’t want me to stay here and help you with the ice?”

  Phoebe shook her head. “No. I just want to rest and forget all of this.”

  Gerda stared at her for several long moments and then nodded. “Very well. I will go rest too. We didn’t have much sleep last night.”

  “No. We didn’t.” Phoebe had no strength for further conversation. Her only thought was to get Gerda to leave.

  Finally, Gerda did just that. She went to the adjoining room door and stepped through. She paused a moment, and when Phoebe said nothing more, Gerda closed the door between them.

  Phoebe waited for nearly fifteen minutes, hoping that as tired as Gerda was, she would fall asleep quickly. The last thing she needed was for Gerda to go running to Hubert or Vater and tell them that Phoebe was on the move.

  Despite the intense pain, Phoebe pushed back the covers and rolled to her side. She pushed up off the mattress, biting her lower lip to keep from crying out. For a moment, Phoebe rested on the side of the bed and drew a deep breath. At least as deep as her injured body would allow.

  Gradually she found the strength to rise. She pulled on her robe and glanced around the room. She didn’t want to take the time to dress and instead gathered a few articles of clothing. Later she would send for the rest of her things, and if Vater refused to let her have them, then so be it. She still had most of the money he’d given her. Remembering this, she took up her purse and tucked it in with the clothes. She could only hope that no one would see or hear her. In the hallway all was quiet. Phoebe headed for the servants’ stairs and slipped down the back way and out of the hotel.

 

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