meeting with Max. Plus deep down she feared that Ross might actually be in some sort of trouble, and she didn't want to face her father's wrath if that were so.
"Yes, Papa, it's me," she called back, smoothing the silk bodice of her dinner gown. She fluffed the ruffles at her shoulders and unnecessarily tucked strands of hair into her perfectly groomed chignon, not so much because her appearance needed reparations as because she needed the time to fortify herself.
"Well, get yourself in here right now!" Winston thundered. "All hell broke loose this afternoon while you confined yourself to your boudoir!"
She entered the drawing room and saw her father seated in his favorite parlor chair, a large overstuffed winged affair that would have dwarfed most men, but not Winston Sheridan. He barely squeezed his bulk between the wood-carved gargoyle arms. He was still in his business suit, a fact which didn't surprise Elizabeth. Winston never donned a less constraining smoking jacket until late in the evening. His right hand was firmly wrapped around a tumbler of brandy.
"What's wrong, Papa? What's happened?" she asked, coming toward him.
"Your brother's at it again," he said. "I went to the club for lunch today and who should I see but Harold Alden from the bank. I could tell he was avoiding me since he put his newspaper in front of his face when he caught my eye."
Elizabeth sank into the nearest chair. "Oh no," she said. "Ross has gotten in trouble at work."
"He was fired! When I finally forced a confrontation with Alden he told me that Ross didn't even show up this morning. 'Have to let the boy go, Winnie,' he tells me.”
Winston paused long enough to take a long swallow of his drink. "I swear, Elizabeth, that boy has set out to ruin me in this town. Every time I go out on a limb and secure a position for him, he treads upon my good name and I end up making excuses for his shiftless nature. Well, no more. Ross has embarrassed this family for the last time!"
"Have you seen Ross, Papa?" Elizabeth suggested hopefully. "Did he tell you what happened? Perhaps there's a good explanation this time."
"Not damn likely! But, no, I haven't seen him, and when I pumped Bridey for the truth, she admitted that she hadn't actually seen him sleeping in bed this morning like she told me. I swear, Elizabeth I should fire that woman and get a maid who wouldn’t let you two so easily wrap her around your little fingers.”
“Oh, don’t do that, Papa. Why, Bridey is...”
Not letting her finish, Winston leaned forward. "Now I suspect that you weren't being honest with me either. Tell me, missy...you really have no idea at all where Ross has been all night and all day, do you?"
"No," Elizabeth admitted, but quickly added, "I didn't actually lie to you, Papa. I didn't know for certain that Ross wasn't here last night. And I don't know where he's been today." Though Elizabeth understood her father's anger, she couldn't share it. She was more worried than anything else. She knew that Ross often bent the rules where their father was concerned, but he almost always confided in her, even about the most outrageous of his antics. The fact that she didn't have any idea where he was caused her more than a little consternation.
"Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes, sir," Bridey said from the doorway to the drawing room. "Cook asked me to tell you." She cast a guilt-ridden glance at Elizabeth and then quickly disappeared into the hallway.
Elizabeth stood slowly. Under the circumstances there didn't seem to be anything else to say. "Papa, if it's all right with you, I think I'll check on final dinner preparations."
He turned his gaze to the flames flickering in the fireplace and seemed to mellow somewhat. "Yes, go ahead." She crossed the threshold and was closing the pocket doors when she heard him mutter, "Thank you, Elizabeth, for being a good
Learning to Kill: Stories