Regency Scandals and Scoundrels: A Regency Historical Romance Collection

by Scarlett Scott

  He had hardly been able to rid her from his mind since he had kissed her at the bank those few months ago now. He had attempted to call upon her, but he had received her message clearly—she wanted nothing to do with him. She was a woman with a long memory, one who may have forgiven, but had not forgotten.

  Gabriel had long ago accepted the fact that he had ruined any opportunity he would ever have with her, and had moved on. Or so he thought.

  Seeing her here now, he was reminded of why she outshone any and every other woman he met.

  It wasn’t as though she was a stunning beauty. She was pretty, graceful, and had an elegance the likes of which he had never before seen in another. But it was the knowledge of who she was, all she had accomplished, and the confidence with which she carried herself that was unmatched. She walked with the air of a woman who cared not of what others thought, though he was aware that this was truly not the case. Elizabeth cared. Gabriel knew because he had seen the true woman underneath the air of unconcern. He could tell as her unsettling violet gaze surveyed the room that she didn’t particularly care to be here, and would likely rather be anywhere else—particularly the bank, he assumed.

  This, however, was her parents’ party, and she couldn’t very well avoid attending—which was why he had chosen to accept tonight’s invitation from Lord and Lady Shannon.

  He could practically feel when Elizabeth’s gaze passed over him, and as much as he knew she had seen him, he could tell she was attempting to pretend she had not. So she was not yet ready to see beyond their past. Very well.

  Gabriel had told himself it was probably better that way. How would a woman like Elizabeth, with her position and her disapproval of most within society, fit into his life, anyway?

  At one point in time, she had, he reminded himself but shook his head to toss away the thought.

  “Clarence.” Gabriel turned behind him to see who it was greeting him, pleased to find two of his closest friends, David Redmond, as well as Jeffrey Worthington, Marquess of Berkley.

  “Gentlemen,” he said. “A pleasure to see you here this evening.”

  “Who did Shannon and his wife not invite?” Jeffrey asked with a raised eyebrow. “It seems as though half of the ton has gathered in this room.”

  He was right. The Moreland family had a substantial home within London, though nothing at all like Gabriel’s own.

  “Are they not still in mourning?” Redmond asked, and Gabriel shrugged. “It has been a few months, it is true, and Lady Shannon continues to wear black.”

  “Still…”

  “Each to their own, I suppose,” Berkley said, and Gabriel nodded. As far as he was aware, Lady Shannon hadn’t been particularly close to her father in recent years.

  “Even Clarke’s wife is here!” Redmond continued on, clearly unable to process the fact that the family had disregarded some of the mourning procedures.

  “Thomas Clarke was an interesting character,” said Gabriel, smiling as he remembered one of his many conversations with the man. “He felt that after the death of someone one truly loved, life should be celebrated. He hated the idea of wearing black, of keeping oneself from any type of merriment. I assume his wife holds similar ideals.”

  “Interesting,” Berkley said, while Redmond raised his eyebrows, clearly still somewhat confused.

  “Is your wife in attendance tonight, Berkley?” he asked, to which the man nodded. “Of course. She wouldn’t miss this. Far too much to write about—ah, that is, write to Lady Julia about. In letters.”

  Gabriel smiled. While he was well aware of Lady Phoebe’s activities as publisher of The Women’s Weekly—one of England’s few publications written entirely for women, which often questioned the very ideals of society—Redmond had no such knowledge, and nor would Berkley be wanting to share that information.

  “There she is now,” Berkley continued. “With Miss Jones. Lady Elizabeth is now joining them.”

  Gabriel was surprised to see that Elizabeth did not remain with them long, but was soon moving about the room, greeting those who had gathered. So, she was taking her responsibilities as senior partner much more seriously than even he had expected. Good for her, he thought, a strange pride filling his chest. Which was ridiculous. He had no reason to be proud of her. He was simply an acquaintance, and she was her own woman, which she had made very clear.

  And now that woman was coming their way.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” she said with a nod as she joined them. “I am so pleased to see you this evening.”

  She was a vision. She wore a dress of gray so light it was nearly white, and all he could see was the red of her hair and the violet of her eyes.

  “Good evening, Lady Elizabeth,” said Berkley. “You look lovely. I have not seen you since the death of your grandfather so I would like to offer my condolences. I hear you are doing well taking his place at Clarke & Co.”

  “I do not believe anyone can take his place with the same excellence to which he always kept the bank,” she said demurely. “But thank you for your kind words.”

  “I’m surprised to see your grandmother here,” Redmond said, and Gabriel wanted to roll his eyes at the man, who had a tendency to say things that weren’t particularly fitting for the moment.

  Elizabeth, however, ever polite, smiled prettily at him. “My grandmother feels my grandfather would want her to continue to enjoy life. She still mourns him very deeply, I can assure you.”

  Redmond colored, having been chastened appropriately.

  “My apologies, Lady Elizabeth, I never meant—”

  “Not to worry,” she said. “I would far prefer the question to be asked of me directly than to be spoken of behind my back.”

  “Fair enough,” Redmond said, his wide, well-known charming smile breaking out over his face. Gabriel wished he wouldn’t look at Elizabeth with such admiration.

  “Would you care to dance, Lady Elizabeth?” Gabriel asked, finally finding his voice.

  “I’m not sure…” she said, looking around, clearly wanting to do anything but dance with him.

  “Just one dance,” he said smoothly, and he saw the hesitation on her face, but he could tell by the slight panic that passed over her eyes that she could not think of an excuse.

  “Very well,” she mumbled, and then offered her hand to him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Elizabeth slowly placed her gloved hand in Gabriel’s. So much for her plan to avoid him. But she could hardly have passed by these three gentlemen—one the husband of one of her closest friends, another a bank partner—when she was greeting everyone else in the room.

  Gabriel gave her a warm smile, one she would have labeled seductive, but she knew far better than that. It was the look he gave every woman he met and almost all fell for it—with a few exceptions, if his encounters with Julia had proven anything.

  Elizabeth vowed she wouldn’t give in. The only way around that was to not meet his gaze. She looked straight ahead at the other couples who surrounded them on the dance floor. It was a waltz, of course. She could hardly have worse luck.

  Gabriel turned her and took her waist in one hand, capturing her other gloved hand in one of his own. He was dressed beautifully tonight, as he always was. He wore a cobalt blue tailcoat with fawn trousers, perfectly fitted over a white shirt and waistcoat. His hair was expertly coiffed, his dark chestnut curls the envy of most women, including Elizabeth herself.

  “You look lovely tonight,” he murmured in her ear, and his smoky voice against her neck sent tremors down her spine. Elizabeth was a tall woman, but he was the perfect height beside her—tall enough himself, but not so much so that he dwarfed her. His chin could rest almost exactly on the top of her head if he so chose to tilt it forward.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, unable to find any witty words to throw at him at this moment. He was being polite, and she would be the same. They could do that, could they not? Be acquaintances, partners of the same business? “You look fine yoursel
f, as always.”

  “Ah, do you think so, then?” he asked, and she could practically hear his mouth curving into a smile, though she refused to look up at him to see. For then she would be lost in his deep blue eyes, and all of her vows to keep herself from falling for him once more would be forgotten.

  “Everyone believes so,” she answered deftly. “Tell me, have you been keeping well?”

  “I have,” he said. “And you?”

  “I suppose I have as well. Though it has been a… busy time.”

  Apparently, he read more into her words, words that were so carefully cultivated within this artificial conversation that was becoming rather ridiculous. When would this dance be over, so that she could continue on her way and take care of her necessary business?

  “Have you been having any difficulties with partners and clients?”

  “The partners seem to be split about equally on their thoughts of me,” she said, not betraying how much it hurt that they would doubt her so, as expected as it was. “I believe they would all come around, were it not for Henry. He has been doing all he can to stir doubt in their minds as to my capabilities as well as the bank’s reputation with a woman at the helm. While fortunately, the interrogation into the will’s validity proved all was credible, it did create some doubts as to the bank’s future, another obstacle to now overcome. I also visited Mr. Mortimer, and he could not remember signing over his share to Henry. Though his wife does recall Henry coming to visit, she was not in the room with the two of them. Mr. Mortimer also had no recollection of who I was. His memory is fading fast, but his family has no wish to discuss it. So much so, that they will not come forward and deny Henry’s claim, despite their anger at his treachery.”

  “Do they not want to ensure the partnership stays within the family, despite what that could mean?”

  “His wife and two currently unwed daughters have no wish for anything to do with the bank,” Elizabeth explained. “They likely would have forfeited the partnership back to the bank, so they are not angry enough to actually take any action. In fact, one of the daughters is not so much angry now, but hopes that Henry might ask for her hand, and then the partnership would be retained within the family anyway.”

  “Has Henry any inclination to marry the girl?” Gabriel asked, surprise in his tone, and Elizabeth smiled ruefully.

  “Likely not. I suspect that he has begun a flirtation in order to win the family to his side, but I cannot prove anything. All I can do now, if I choose, is to deny his partnership, but I’m not sure how the other partners would react.”

  “Please know that I am happy to help you in any way that I can.”

  “I appreciate that, Gab—your grace, I do, but this is something I must do on my own.”

  “You are a remarkable woman, Elizabeth.”

  She wished he wouldn’t say such things to her. It softened her resolve toward him, one that needed to be built up.

  “I am only doing what must be done,” she said. “What my grandfather would have wanted.”

  “But is this what you want?”

  She looked up at him finally, then, as she thought on his words and tried to determine just how to best answer them. His eyes met hers, probing deeply, and she felt that connection they had once shared—the ability to talk to him about things that actually mattered, to be able to share her innermost thoughts. She had to be careful, however, for he could now use those words against her.

  “It is what I want,” she finally answered as she thought of her role with the bank, the fulfillment it provided her. “I enjoy having purpose and, if I am being honest, the power that comes with such a role. It is somewhat frightening, I suppose, to know that decisions I make could so greatly affect many others—especially those who have their entire life savings with us, for however big or small that might be, it is a fortune to each of them. And yet… I do not trust anyone else with such decisions. I must remember that my grandfather asked this of me, and it is important that I follow through.”

  “So you are happy then?”

  “I am. Or, I will be once I feel surer of myself, more at ease that this will not all be wrenched away from me.”

  “This doubt, this fight,” he said, “You must know it will never completely disappear. There have been women in banking before, it is true, but not many. This is an industry controlled by men—”

  “Aren’t they all?” she interrupted, but he continued.

  “—And there will always be men who feel threatened by you, who will not want to see you succeed. Are you prepared to fight that battle for the rest of your life?”

  “Are you attempting to dissuade me?” she asked, pulling back from him. “Do you still doubt me?”

  “I do not doubt you,” he said. “Not at all. I am aware of your abilities. And yet, I wonder if this will be a happy life, always fighting to prove your worth.”

  “Whether it is a happy life or not, I cannot answer that, not at the moment,” she said, looking back at his chest instead of into his face. “But it is a life that matters, and one that I will not give up on just because there are those who doubt me and want to see to my downfall. In fact, that is all the more reason to fight on.”

  “Then I offer you my support as well as my admiration once more,” he said. “For it will not be easy, but if anyone can do this, it is you.”

  She nodded, unsure of how she felt about his words. Was he purposefully trying to goad her, or was he seriously unsure of whether she was able to handle this or not?

  As if reading her thoughts, he lowered his head so that his mouth brushed against her ear ever so slightly. “I do not doubt you, Elizabeth, never think that. I never have.”

  Elizabeth nodded, wondering how much longer she had to continue waltzing within his embrace. For she could no longer deny just how attracted to him she was. Yet, how could that be, that she would still want a man who had treated her so poorly years ago? Not only that, but he clearly had conflicting thoughts about her current role. She knew if she were ever to marry—particularly a man like the Duke, though of course not this duke—she may have to relinquish much to him, for all of her income would become his. Thanks to her grandfather’s wording within the will, the shares and the inheritance would remain hers, but everything else could never be—anything she further earned would be his, as was the law, the injustice of which Phoebe was always fighting against with her paper. Elizabeth didn’t want to be another woman who left everything she held important to her for a man, no matter who that man was.

  But why did Gabriel have to be not only so devastatingly handsome but also so witty, so intelligent? She had never felt this way about another man and she likely never would again. She reminded herself that for all of his redeeming qualities, he could also be annoyingly infuriating.

  At last the final chords of the song sounded, and Elizabeth stepped away from Gabriel as quickly as she could.

  “So eager to be rid of me?” he quipped with a raised eyebrow, and she felt her cheeks redden.

  “I must see to the other guests. It is important that they all come to know me.”

  “Ah, potential clients,” he said with a knowing smile. Of course, he saw right through her and her motives.

  “I suppose so,” she said, raising a silk-clad shoulder.

  “May I call upon you tomorrow?” he asked, shocking her as he escorted her off the dance floor.

  “Call upon me?” she repeated, sounding like an idiot. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Is it not obvious?” He quirked an eyebrow.

  “Well, I suppose it is, but Gabriel… it has been years. Months since we even last spoke. Why all of a sudden—”

  He laid a fingertip on her lips, and she jerked away, aware that they were being watched.

  “Hush,” he said. “I will explain all—when I call upon you tomorrow. Will you be home?”

  “In the late afternoon,” she finally grumbled, now simply wanting to be rid of him with all of the eyes upon them. “A
fter banking hours. But do not get any ideas.”

  He laughed then, a deep, rich chuckle that tickled her very soul. He raised her hand to his lips, kissed it, and then turned away, and she could practically feel the burn where his lips had been, despite the layer of her glove between them.

  It took not a minute for Elizabeth to be flanked by Phoebe and Sarah.

  “Oh, Elizabeth, I do believe the Duke still has feelings for you,” Sarah said, her words coming out in a whisper.

  “He is playing a game,” Elizabeth said flatly. “I know it. If he actually has feelings, why did he not do the right thing years ago, or attempt to have anything to do with me between then and now? Why now, when not long after I was named the senior partner of the bank?”

  “Perhaps it is the fact he has seen you again, and you have refocused his energy?” Sarah said as though she were guessing.

  “He could have grown up,” said Phoebe, and Elizabeth looked over at her, surprised she would be trusting Gabriel’s current motives. “What?” she asked, seeing Elizabeth’s expression. “I am not saying that is the case, I am only saying it is a possibility. One can never know for sure. Anyway, he is a powerful man, and in your current position, you wouldn’t want to turn him against you. Best to play his game, determine what he wants. But Elizabeth,” she said, turning and narrowing her gaze upon her. “Don’t lose your heart.”

  “Of course not,” Elizabeth said, straightening her spine.

  Sarah shook her head at the pair of them, clearly not approving, but what could Elizabeth do? She had a role to play now, and she couldn’t let her emotions get in the way.

  Especially emotions concerning the Duke of Clarence.

  Chapter Thirteen