but I attended law school in Oregon. My uncle recently brought me into the firm. This is my first assignment.”
“Your first?” Tiny lines formed around her mother’s mouth.
Elizabeth twisted the napkin in her lap. “I’d have thought your uncle would show more respect for us than to bring in an inexperienced attorney.”
The young man glanced up, one brow cocked. “I believe he meant it as a compliment. Uncle Silas would only commit your situation to a trusted family member.”
Mother took a sip from her water glass, recovering her composure in less than a heartbeat. “Silas worked diligently for this family for years, Elizabeth. We shouldn’t be questioning his intentions. I’m sure young Mr. McKinley will be a breath of fresh air.” She patted his arm. “Youth doesn’t always mean ignorance. And it comes with certain benefits.” Mother smiled, her pale eyes gleaming as if she’d already convinced herself. “Energy. Drive. Ambition. All of which I expect Charles, here, has in abundance. May I call you Charles?”
“Of course.”
Leave it to Mother to side with the enemy.
An eager smile brightened his face. “I’ve been looking over your files. I have some ideas to help with your new situation.”
Situation. The word squeezed around Elizabeth’s heart. “Our destitution, you mean?” As soon as the accusation escaped her lips, a prickle crept up her cheeks. She’d never learned her mother’s gift for subtle conversation.
“Elizabeth!” Mother’s face pinched.
The young man frowned. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. It’s a highly complex matter. I’m afraid you might not understand, Miss King. ”
Elizabeth’s mouth fell open, his condescending tone snapping her control like an overtightened piano string. “I understand more than you realize, Mr. McKinley. For one thing, I know your uncle assured my father the buildings in which he invested were well-insured—he insisted there was little risk.”
“My uncle couldn’t have foreseen an earthquake of this—”
“Mr. McKinley also claimed to invest in the same properties, and yet he’s still living in one of San Francisco’s nicest homes. He doesn’t appear to have endured the same level of economic ruin.” The words tumbled from her mouth faster than she could collect them.
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Um, no. He—”
“And explain this to me. My brother, Robert, visited your uncle’s office three times during the last month and Silas McKinley refused to see him. Now he sends you here to Sacramento?” The heat in her chest increased with each subsequent thought. “If he believes a fast-talking, handsome man with a fine suit will somehow woo the ladies and get us to acquiesce, he’s sorely mistaken. We’re not helpless females, no matter what your uncle may have led you to believe.” She stood, tossing the linen napkin onto her plate. “Mother, we shouldn’t be wasting our time with him. I, for one, have an engagement this evening.”
Her mother rose to her feet. “Mr. McKinley is our guest. I will not have him flown at in such a manner.”
The young man jumped up, a glint appearing in his eyes. “I assure you, Miss King, my uncle didn’t send me to woo anyone.” He paused. “I believe I can help.”
“I think we should hear him out.” Mother pressed a hand to her heart.
Elizabeth locked her gaze on the attorney. “Are you afraid to conduct business with my brother, or do you think it’s too complex for a physician to understand, too?”
He placed both palms on the table and leaned forward, matching her stare. “Are you saying your mother is not competent to manage her affairs without a man present?”
A flush climbed Elizabeth’s neck, settling under her lace collar.
He turned toward her mother. “I can present my recommendations here, or we can wait until after the meal. If you’d prefer I make an appointment to speak to your son, I’d be more than happy to do so. I also have another engagement this evening, so it would be preferable to expedite my proposals without further interruptions.”
Her mother nodded. “Let’s retire to the parlor. Elizabeth, you may join us or not, but you will remain silent. I will not have our guest harangued further.”
As they departed, Elizabeth sank back into her seat. She lifted the water glass, but her trembling hand splashed the icy water down the front of her dress, chilling her to the skin. She dabbed a napkin against the damp silk, the image of the young man’s wide brown eyes tugging at her heart. He hadn’t deserved such venom. Why must she make a mess of everything?
Her forthright manner had cost her much over the years. Add such a weakness to a stained past, and she could forget ever walking down the aisle. Elizabeth closed her eyes. Not that marriage was ever her goal . . . at least, not exactly.
Lord, help me.
Chapter 2
2
Elizabeth hurried up City Hall’s marble steps after her friend. The church bells tolled, echoing down the busy street. “We’re going to be late.”
The cascading flowers on Lillian’s hat jounced as she climbed. “If you’d met me at six like I asked, we’d have had plenty of time. Tell me more about this attorney fellow. Was he handsome?”
“He was insufferable. A pompous, overdressed stuffed shirt—like those Brookstone Academy boys who lived to quote Sophocles and Euripides.”
Lillian smiled. “I nearly married one of those boys, remember?”
Elizabeth reached for the ornate brass handle, pulling open the heavy door. “Temporary blindness. You eventually came to your senses.”
Her friend cocked a pale eyebrow as she stepped through the doorway. “And hasn’t anyone turned your head? You haven’t had time for me in months. I’d assumed some special fellow consumed all your attentions.”
A wave of heat washed over Elizabeth, and she lifted a hand to her cheek. If anyone—even Lillian—guessed her indiscretion, she’d never survive the gossip and disgrace. This secret was between her and God, assuming she could gather the courage to speak to Him about it. Elizabeth followed her friend through the entrance, careful to keep her skirt out of the way. “I’ve decided men aren’t worth the trouble. Who’s speaking tonight?”
A few well-dressed women stood in the marble-lined vestibule, lingering outside the door of the meeting room. The sound of children singing floated out into the hall. Elizabeth stopped in her tracks.
“About that . . .” Lillian grasped Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her toward the assembly hall. “The orator is Miss Donaldina Cameron from San Francisco’s Presbyterian Mission Home. I heard her speak in Oakland last June.”
“Mission? I thought this was a Stanton Club meeting.” Elizabeth’s skin crawled. “You didn’t tell me this was a church event.”
“Miss Cameron works with girls rescued from slavery in Chinatown. Their stories will break your heart. Come on.” Lillian
