Lady of Providence

by St. Clair, Ellie

  His stoic countenance faltered for but a moment, and Elizabeth wondered at what she saw there within his eyes as he stared at her—was it regret? Disappointment? But no. The Duke of Clarence never regretted a thing.

  “Elizabeth, I am sorry you were hurt—”

  “Hurt?” Elizabeth choked out. “Gabriel, we were to be married. And you—you betrayed me.”

  She took in a deep, shaky breath as she forced herself to calm down, to conceal her emotions. Allowing him to realize just how much he had hurt her would do nothing but leave her even more vulnerable in front of him. She was far better off to keep all of their interactions to business, which was why she would never allow them to be alone like this again.

  “I know,” he said softly. “And I am very sorry for that.”

  “Those are but words, Gabriel.”

  He nodded. “If I could change the past, I would. But alas… I cannot. The man I was five years ago, however, is not the man I am today. Can you not see that, Elizabeth? Realize that I am here for you?”

  “Those are pretty words, Gabriel, but mean nothing.”

  “Then look beyond words,” he said, stepping back toward her. “Tell me that you didn’t feel something when I held you in my arms, when my lips touched yours. Tell me and I will go and never speak of it again.”

  Elizabeth did all she could to force her racing heart to slow as she looked up at him.

  “I—I,” She couldn’t say it. She had to, needed to, and yet… the words refused to roll off her tongue. Damn it all. The worst part about it? He knew.

  “Goodbye, Gabriel. I will see you at the next meeting. My apologies about your nose.”

  Chapter Ten

  Elizabeth, ever the perfect hostess, poured tea for the three women who sat in a circle around the service in the middle of her grandparents’ drawing room. Which was also hers now, she realized, though it was all still rather incredulous.

  “Besides everything that has happened, how are you feeling?” Sarah asked, her brown eyes soft as she gazed upon Elizabeth, as perceptive as ever to Elizabeth’s emotions.

  Elizabeth paused for a moment before she poured the third cup, looking up at her friend. She had been so busy and so concerned with taking on all of the responsibility awaiting her that it had been some time since she had stopped and considered how it was all affecting her. In fact, she preferred it that way. She hated to dwell on her emotions, to allow grief to creep in. It only left her feeling drained and desolate.

  “I miss my grandfather, that is for certain,” she said slowly, putting down the teapot for a moment. “Though it has helped both me and my grandmother for us to be together in this time, I believe. And yet somehow, being here, in his home, in his office at the bank, has allowed me to feel as though he is still with me, if that makes sense at all.”

  She hastily blinked away the tears that suddenly threatened as her friends nodded in understanding.

  “It’s good to give yourself time to react to tragedy,” Sarah said encouragingly, but Elizabeth shook her head, dismissing her words. To allow the emotion in now, at this moment, would only cause her to lose all control, and that, even in front of her closest friends, she would never do.

  Julia, her tiny frame already becoming slightly round with the child she had just discovered she was expecting, laid a hand upon Elizabeth’s. “You know if there is anything we can do, we are more than happy to help. I know that sounds trite, but it is the truth.”

  Elizabeth smiled at her. “I appreciate that, I do. But you have much to worry about yourself.”

  Julia waved a hand. “All is well with us. Lots of travel, to be sure, but the timing could not have been better, for the racing season will be over by the time this babe is to be born.”

  “I can hardly wait to see how you fare,” said Phoebe with a sigh, already having one at home herself. “I do hope yours sleeps.”

  They smiled the shared smile of understanding between two mothers before returning to the matter at hand. Elizabeth rather wished they would continue speaking about children, for she didn’t have much interest in continuing their previous conversation.

  “How is everything at the bank?” Phoebe asked, coming to the business side of Elizabeth’s life which was, of course, unsurprising as she was involved in business herself, secretly running The Women’s Weekly, a publication for women.

  “It all seems well so far,” Elizabeth said slowly. “We have not had any clients leave—yet, although I have heard some rumblings that there are a few who are not exactly content with a woman at the helm of the financial institution holding all of their wealth. My plan is to try to meet with as many people as I can, to allow them to see that I am knowledgable and competent, that there is nothing to fear.”

  “Which is wise,” said Phoebe with a nod.

  “I hope so, though it means a lot of work to come soon,” Elizabeth agreed. “As for the partners, there is certainly much doubt there as well, though I hope our last meeting solved some of that. Though it brought about one more issue with which I had not thought to have to contend.”

  “Which is…?” Julia asked.

  “Henry,” said Elizabeth, rolling her eyes, and then proceeded to tell them about his entry into the bank, how he had found a share for himself, and his vow to bring about her downfall. “How he would do so, I have no idea, but he seems quite intent on winning for himself the senior partnership. Why he would think it is attainable to him, I have no idea. His ideas for the bank, told to me himself, are ludicrous and would destroy everything my grandfather built up. I cannot allow it to happen.”

  “And you won’t,” said Phoebe, determination in her eyes as she sat up straighter and poured the last tea that Elizabeth had forgotten.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching for the teapot, but Phoebe waved her away.

  “You have much on your mind.”

  Elizabeth nodded, hoping they were done with discussing her life, but then she caught Sarah looking at her with pursed lips.

  “There is something you are not telling us,” Sarah said at Elizabeth’s returned stare.

  “I’ve told you all,” Elizabeth said, picking up her teacup and taking a sip while she attempted to meet Sarah’s eye, though she couldn’t help but allow her gaze to wander behind her at the pale golden walls where they met the white wainscotting, and the watercolors of every flower in England hanging above them between portraits of ancestors. It would not be Elizabeth’s choice of decor, but her grandmother had painted many of the still lifes and landscapes herself, which meant that they would likely remain on the walls indefinitely, for Elizabeth could never bring herself to remove them.

  “I don’t think so,” said Sarah resolutely. “There is more. More to do with how you feel about something—or someone.”

  Elizabeth placed her teacup on her lap.

  “There is no one.”

  “Aha!” Julia said with a bit of a grin. “That means for certain there is. Who have you even had time to see lately?”

  “No one at all,” Elizabeth said crisply, though she could feel warmth in her cheeks and knew they were likely turning very bright pink.

  “Bank partners and clients,” Phoebe said shrewdly, and at that, Julia turned toward her with widened eyes.

  “The Duke of Clarence!” she exclaimed, and Elizabeth shook her head, despite the fact her cheeks felt as though they were now flaming red.

  “I have seen him, yes,” she said in an attempt to dissuade their interest. “But I feel nothing for him.”

  “After seeing the two of you together in Newmarket, I can certainly say that you feel something,” said Julia. “Whether you feel hatred or anger or frustration, I am not sure, but I have never seen you act the same around another as you did with him—that you cannot deny.”

  “That may be true,” Elizabeth said with a shrug. “I do despise him, and I have a good reason for it.”

  They all stared at her, clearly waiting to hear just what, exactly, that reason wa
s.

  She sighed, realizing that she could not put it off any longer—she had to share the story with these women, who had shared everything with her.

  “Very well,” she said, clenching her fingers in her lap so that she didn’t tap them distractedly on the table. “Gab—the Duke and I, were young. I was only eighteen, having just had my come-out, he a couple of years older. Our parents were friends, through my father’s side, and when we were children, we had known one another. We were reacquainted one night at a party. We… well, we had some type of instant attraction to one another that I never knew was possible. At the time, in my youthful innocence, I thought it was love at first sight, but I know now it was lust at first sight. We danced, we flirted, we talked about anything and everything. He was the first gentleman who had ever seemed to actually care about my opinion on anything that mattered. We went for a walk in the gardens, having drunk a great deal of champagne and, well…”

  She trailed off, though she was well aware of just how intently the three women were staring at her.

  “Well, what?” demanded Phoebe.

  “We happened upon a gazebo, and our attraction for one another became more than an attraction, which, regretfully, we acted upon. I cannot say that he took advantage of me—I asked him for it all, and he complied. Anyway,” she hurried along past that part, for she could see that she had completely shocked three women who were far from likely to allow much to shock them. “He began to court me, and eventually offered to marry me. He only did so because he knew it was the right thing to do. In the meantime, it didn’t stop him from having additional relationships with other women. When I found out, having quite literally walked into a situation in which he was with one of his other acquaintances, I called it all off and told him to never speak to me again. He complied—until Newmarket.”

  Even speaking of it once more caused Elizabeth to tremor with anger, hurt, and frustration that the man she had thought she loved quite obviously did not love her in return. How could he have loved her and then treated her so? It was unfathomable. It had been the ultimate betrayal—for him to take up with another woman, especially at a public event, where any and all could have seen him. Not only had he cared nothing for how she felt, but he had cared equally as little for his own reputation. No, Gabriel Lockridge had revealed through his actions exactly what he thought of her, and she refused to give into him again.

  Phoebe was the first to regain her wits and asked a logical question.

  “But how did he receive his partnership in the bank, then?”

  Elizabeth nodded. This, she had no trouble answering. “Once it became obvious that he and I were going to enter into marital bliss, my grandfather Clarke wanted to come to know him better. The two of them enjoyed the company of one another, and became unlikely but fast friends. Thinking the Duke was going to become my husband, when a share in the bank came open, Grandpapa asked if he would be interested. Gab—the Duke said he was, but I’m not sure whether or not he was just being polite. He didn’t take much interest until this past meeting, and even then he just sat there like a frog on a log throughout the meeting.”

  “But you still care for him,” Sarah said, and Elizabeth turned to look at her, incredulous.

  “I certainly do not,” she said, holding her nose high in the air.

  “Then why does your face take on that expression when you speak of him?”

  “What expression?”

  “The one in which your eyes slightly soften and yet your mouth hardens—as though you are trying to deny what you feel.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Elizabeth said. “Am I still attracted to him? Of course I am. I will always be attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be?”

  “I wasn’t,” Julia said with a shrug, and Elizabeth tilted her head to look at her with a bit of an eye-roll.

  “Well, anyway. I still don’t know what that was all about in Newmarket, Julia. But I will not forget what happened between me and the Duke of Clarence in the past. I will not risk my heart once more.”

  “That was a few years ago now,” Sarah said softly. “Could he have changed?”

  Elizabeth frowned.

  “I suppose he could have, in some ways,” she said truthfully. “Though I rather doubt it.”

  “I do have to say,” Julia added, speaking slowly, “That there seemed to be more at play than what appeared on the surface when we were in Newmarket. It was as though he knew exactly what was happening, and was trying to… help things along, if you will. I have no idea whether or not that was the truth, but that was how it felt to me.”

  “He manipulates situations,” said Elizabeth with some ire. “He always has. It’s some type of game to him, to see how he can use people like pawns on his chessboard in order to reach the King.”

  “Well, all worked out for me,” Julia said with a soft smile. “But I can certainly understand your concern.”

  “I think you are correct to avoid him,” Phoebe said, and Elizabeth looked gratefully toward her. “Can you really trust him? Though, never tell him that I suggested otherwise, for I wouldn’t want to ruin his friendship with Jeffrey.”

  “Of course not,” Elizabeth assured her.

  “Thank you. And what will you do now?” Phoebe asked.

  “I will finish moving into this house,” Elizabeth said, waving her hands around her. “I will get to work at the bank, and determine exactly how to keep my cousin Henry from being a problem. If I choose to do so, I can decline his partnership, but that may raise the ire of the other partners, causing them to be concerned about the future. And in the meantime, I will ignore Gabriel Lockwood.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Three months later

  Elizabeth was thankful to finally dress in lavender. It felt joyful after so many days of black, over and over. In all honesty, she felt her grandfather, had he been asked his opinion, would have far preferred that they wear color to celebrate his life. But, this was expected, and while the majority of her life these days seemed to be going against what others felt she should do, in this she would follow protocol.

  “Good morning,” she said as she entered the breakfast room where her grandmother awaited. They had settled into what Elizabeth felt was a delightful routine, having breakfast together in the cream room that reminded Elizabeth of dining on clouds. There was the slightest bit of light blue scattered throughout the room in paintings and upon the upholstery of the chairs, but even the table was in the lightest pine that added to the brightness of the room, while the east-facing window allowed the morning sun to permeate the room.

  “Good morning, darling,” Justine said, her face wrinkled into her usual smile. Elizabeth knew how much her grandmother missed her husband, but at the same time, Justine had a positive outlook on life and all that it included. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I did,” said Elizabeth with a smile, though it was a complete lie. Every night she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling as her mind was in turmoil over all she had to consider following her day at the bank. She hoped her concerns would lessen in time, but for now, she had far too much worry over which decisions were right, who she could trust, and who would prefer not to have a woman leading them. She wished she could ask her grandfather about her choices, but alas, she could only assume what he may think.

  Her grandmother looked at her shrewdly now, perhaps guessing everything that was running through her mind.

  “Your grandfather brought his worries home too,” Justine said, taking a sip of her tea.

  “He did?” Elizabeth asked, raising her head from her plate to look at her grandmother.

  “Of course he did,” said Justine, pulling her wrapper closer around her. She never dressed before noon—she said she had no reason to, so why not be comfortable while she breakfasted and read her papers? “Sometimes he spoke to me of them. He said it helped. I don’t want you to feel any pressure to do so, but you are always welcome to; I’d like you to know that.”

  “Thank you, Grandmother,�
� Elizabeth said. “At the moment, it is primarily gaining the trust and confidence of clients and partners. A female senior partner is not exactly the norm.”

  “No,” Justine agreed. “But your grandfather wouldn’t have named you in his place had he not trusted in you. They will come around—you will know how best to prove yourself.”

  “Thank you,” said Elizabeth with a smile. How different were her breakfast conversations here than with her parents. “I do appreciate that.”

  “Has the awful business with your cousin now concluded?”

  “Henry’s contesting of the will? Yes, thank goodness,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “I have no idea why he would ever consider that the will would not be valid, considering who Grandpapa was and how careful he was in such matters. However, after the interviews, it was concluded that there were multiple witnesses present through both the drafting and the signing of the will and, of course, Grandpapa was in a sound state of mind when he made it.”

  “Well, I am relieved it is finished now and put to rest so that you can continue with what is important,” Justine said, and Elizabeth chose not to share her additional fears that Henry would only find new methods to attempt to undermine her authority and her position.

  “Now,” her grandmother continued. “Have you decided what you will be wearing tonight?”

  “Wearing? Tonight?” Elizabeth searched her mind as she tried to determine to what her grandmother was referring.

  “To the party your parents are hosting, darling,” her grandmother said with a bit of a laugh. “Are you so preoccupied that you have forgotten?”

  “Actually, I did,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “I do not think I’m going to attend.”

  “But you have to!” Justine said, and Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. She never thought that her grandmother of all people would make her attend a party full of members of the nobility. Noting Elizabeth’s questioning gaze, her grandmother continued. “Part of being senior partner of a bank is the relationships you develop with clients. It was one of the aspects of his position that your grandfather was best at, and how he grew the bank into one of London’s finest. You have to cultivate strong partnerships, allow potential clients to get to know you and trust you. Sometimes what you can accomplish in one night of uncomfortable conversations is more than you could in weeks of meetings.”