It felt like a punch in the gut. Betrayal and lies. How had he been such a fool?
What was a maid doing with this kind of money and jewels?
His heart thundered in his chest.
She’d lied. That was as obvious as the pile of money on the floor.
Maybe about everything. His whole world spun.
He shoved money and jewelry back into the stocking and put it all in his pocket. His heart was heavy, but he was going to get to the bottom of this, one way or another.
* * *
“Attention! Attention everyone! The cake auction is about to start.”
Excited murmurs spread through the crowd and everyone moved toward the other room where the cakes were on display.
Oh darn. Lizzie really wanted to see the auction. She wished Matt would hurry back so they could bid on one, too. She glanced toward the door but there was no sign of him.
Well, she wasn’t going to just sit around waiting. Walking unevenly with one shoe, she took a few steps, then realized it would be easier to just go without any shoes at all. Once she took off her shoe she moved toward the rest of the crowd. She could hear laughter and cheers, so they were starting whether she got there or not.
A firm hand wrapped around her upper arm and her heart fluttered.
“Matt!” She turned with a smile.
“Hello, Elizabeth.”
Her blood went cold. She glanced around but everyone had already gone to the cake auction.
“Hello, Father,” she replied, proud that she kept the quaver out of her voice.
Oh lord. Where’s Matt?
“Come on, let’s go home.” He yanked on her arm and she stumbled forward.
“I am home,” she protested, trying to pull away from his grip, but she wasn’t strong enough and then she stepped on a stone and stumbled again, making it even easier for him to force her to go with him.
She wanted to call out for help, but she feared drawing too much attention to herself. To the fact that her wealthy father had come to town to drag her back to St. Louis. Revealing to the entire town that she was a liar and a fraud. Panic bubbled through her.
“Stop talking nonsense. Only cows could call this place home.” His voice dripped with arrogance and she remembered how much she despised him.
“I’m married.” She literally dug her heels in, refusing to budge.
He turned to her and rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. You’ve had your little adventure with a cowboy.” He lifted her hand and looked at it, his lips curling up in a sneer. “Tsk, tsk. Your beautiful hands. Now you look like a milkmaid.”
She pulled her hand away. “I am not leaving.”
Where’s Matt? Why wasn’t he back yet?
Her father grabbed her arms painfully. “Listen to me, Elizabeth. We’re leaving and we’re going to put this whole ridiculous incident behind us. I’ll tell Nevie that you were out of town for a few days visiting a sick friend and the wedding will go on as planned.”
By this time they were outside and her fear spiked. She ought to have yelled for help as soon as she recognized her father and now it was too late. The sounds of the cake auction were getting quite raucous. No one would hear her now.
Her father dragged her toward a wagon. She recognized a couple of his henchmen. Of course, her father never went anywhere without them.
“I will not marry Nevie. I will not go with you. I am a married woman. Now leave me alone.”
“If you’re married, where’s your husband?” her father said with a sinister snarl. “Hell, you don’t even have shoes.” He laughed derisively and the two henchmen joined in. The sound sickened her.
“Go to hell,” she spat the words at him and it felt so good. But not as good as it felt when she slapped him across the face. “I love Matt and I’m staying here. I don’t want Nevie. I never did. And I don’t want anything to do with you either. I’m happy here. This is my life now.”
“You stupid, stubborn little tramp.” Her father pulled back his arm and she prepared for the familiar sting of one of his slaps, but it never came.
“Get your hands off my wife.”
Matt! Oh thank goodness. Her knees nearly gave out from relief.
Matt had her father’s hands wrenched behind his back and she could see his eyes bulging and his face reddened with rage. No one interfered with Pennhurst Wentworth Pendleton’s plans.
“Explain yourself,” Matt ordered.
“Gladly,” her father replied. “Elizabeth is my daughter. I have come to take her home with me because she is engaged to be married to an important business associate of mine. She’s not a maid. She’s an heiress. Apparently she felt the need for a little adventure before settling down to life as the wife as one of St. Louis’s most influential citizens. Say your good-byes, because your little game of playing house is over.”
The two men on the wagon jumped down. “Let him go,” Rudy Barr said, taking several menacing steps toward Matt. “We don’t want any trouble with you. We’re just here for the girl.”
“That ‘girl’ is my wife and you’ll take her over my dead body.”
“Well of course he’d say that,” Lizzie’s father answered, “now that he knows you’re an heiress, he can’t bear to let you go.”
Matt shifted so that he held her father by the front of his shirt with one hand and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of cash which he shoved in the face of Pennhurst Pendleton. “Is this why you’re here? To get all this money back?”
Lizzie’s heart plummeted. How had he found the money? Oh, what did it matter now? Could this night get any worse?
Her father scoffed. “Oh, like that’s even worth making the trip over. You see, your sweet little bride, the one whose hands are dry and cracked, is the beneficiary of a trust fund left by her
