Free The Art of Love: Origins of Sinner's Grove by A.B. Michaels Page B

let it out. “Obsessive love does strange things to people. It can make them mean as snakes, and that’s what my father has become. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but your father is once again in financial trouble. Big trouble. Not only is he close to ruin, but so is Em’s husband.”
    “What?!” Lia was stunned. “Are you sure about that?”
    “Your father leveraged virtually his entire investment portfolio in a railroad spur line that went belly up and now his creditors are knocking. He’s already used up the funds Sizemore gave him back when Em got married. But Sizemore’s had some shady dealings in the horse-racing circuit. Not only is he on the edge financially, but he’s liable for some criminal acts. Lia, Em’s husband could go to Sing Sing if any of it gets out. My father’s collected enough evidence to destroy both of them and I think part of him loves the idea of having your father under his thumb. It is beyond twisted, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
    Lia looked down to see that her hands were shaking. “My God,” she said. “Let me see if I understand this: your father is willing to bail out my father to see this wedding happen, but if you don’t go through with it, your father will ruin my father and Hiram Sizemore. Doesn’t he care about the position he’s putting his own son in?”
    George shook his head. “I told you what obsessive love can do to a person.” He laughed ruefully. “But here’s the rub: I’m just like him.”
    “You are nothing like him,” Lia said.
    “Oh, but I am. I’ll be honest with you. If it were only your father, I’d say the hell with him and gleefully watch him fail. He took Em from me and I’ll never forgive him for that. But I can’t bear to have her, after all she’s sacrificed, go through the pain and humiliation of Sizemore’s fall.” He shook his head and looked down again. “I just can’t bear it.”
    Lia rose from the bench and took George’s arm in hers. She looked at him for a long moment. “You are a good man, Mr. Powell. A very good man. And I thank you for your honesty.”
    “So what’s it going to be?” he asked.
    Lia thought back to the sense of righteous indignation she’d felt at the beginning of the conversation, and the confidence she’d had in appealing to George’s common sense. He did have common sense. But he was also a man in love—it just didn’t happen to be with her. Could she do this thing that felt so wrong? But could she not do it and watch not only her father’s life, but her sister’s and even her own life crumble as well? She saw how all three of them—George, Emma and her—were nothing but pawns put in untenable situations. If they refused to participate, it would mean utter ruin for the people they loved. It shouldn’t be that way, but she didn’t know how to make it better. “I think there is a wedding in our future,” she said, with none of the joy that would normally accompany that phrase.

CHAPTER TEN

    July 25, 1896
    O n a warm, bright day less than two weeks after her conversation in the park, Lia took a deep breath, tried to push her fears aside, and became Mrs. George Britland Powell II. She and George exchanged vows in the First Presbyterian Church of New York City, known among her father’s upper crust friends as “Old First.” Her father hadn’t set foot in it or any other church since her mother’s death, but George’s parents were prominent members. It felt like even more of a farce knowing how much money had changed hands to ensure the most spectacular wedding event of the season.
    More than two hundred wealthy people attended the nuptials. Lia could count on two hands the number of guests she actually knew. Neither she nor George had bothered inviting many friends; she didn’t know what George thought about it, but she was embarrassed by the hypocrisy of it all.
    The pretense hadn’t stopped their parents, however. Apparently her father and father-in-law had