Wrapped together on that seat, he whispered against her ear, “I may have to rethink my aversion to this mode of transportation.”
She smiled. “As our next journey is to London and your mother will be with us, I sincerely hope not.”
Graham shuddered at the thought. “If you had not already sated my ardor, that thought would have effectively withered me.”
Beatrice rose onto her knees and met his gaze. “Are you worried about London? About taking your place there?”
“I’m not worried about anything so long as I have you by my side… I will not be liked. I will be called a usurper, an outsider and, perhaps, even an imposter. There are those who will never accept that I am the Lost Lord of Castle Black.”
“It is their loss,” she said. “You are everything that a gentleman is supposed to be.”
“Hardly that!”
“But you are!” she protested. “You have been kind and generous with the staff, you have taken to the responsibilities and obligations of the estate, not as if born to it, but as if driven to do so! You were incredibly merciful toward Eloise when you did not have to be. Allowing her to return to her family rather than go to prison was a generosity that she did not deserve.”
“One could argue that it was a punishment her family did not deserve.”
Her lips quirked at that. “As you say… and what of Dr. Warner who struggled in York to build his practice? You’ve set him up in the village and now we have access to quality medical care instead of being dependent upon Dr. Shepherd’s quackery! Then there’s Sir Godfrey—even after the truth of his perfidy came about, you’ve still been gracious enough to let him live out his days in the townhome in Bath… albeit with a more stringent budget and supervision!”
“None of those decisions were made for altruistic reasons. Scandal, given all that we have already endured, should not be courted so openly.”
“Spoken like a true gentleman!” she proclaimed. “And while this trip to London is necessary to get Christopher enrolled in university again and to deal with the legal ramifications of your ‘resurrection’, it will be good for you to be reminded of what you come from, but it will also be good for Lady Agatha. She has been much too isolated at Castle Black.”
His hand made lazy circles over her back. Enough so that she wanted to purr and stretch like a cat. “And what of you, Beatrice? Will London and a jaunt into society be good for you?”
“You are good for me. Being where you are is good for me… beyond that, nothing else matters,” she admitted. The carriage turned off the main road and onto the more narrow lane that would lead to the castle. They were on Blakemore property. “Welcome home Lord Blakemore.”
“And to you, Lady Blakemore. Welcome home.”
The Lost Lords Series
The Lost Lord of Castle Black
The Vanishing of Lord Vale
The Missing Marquess of Althorn
The Resurrection of Lady Ramsleigh
The Mystery of Miss Mason
The Awakening of Lord Ambrose
A Midnight Clear (A Novella)
Chasity Bowlin Amazon Author Page
About the Author
Chasity Bowlin lives in central Kentucky with her husband and their menagerie of animals. She loves writing, traveling and enjoys incorporating tidbits of her actual vacations into her books. She is an avid Anglophile, loving all things British, but specifically all things Regency.
Growing up in Tennessee, spending as much time as possible with her doting grandparents, soap operas were a part of her daily existence, followed by back to back episodes of Scooby-Doo. Her path to becoming a romance novelist was set when, rather than simply have her Barbie dolls cruise around in a pink convertible, they time traveled, hosted lavish dinner parties and one even had an evil twin locked in the attic.
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Lady of Providence
The Unconventional Ladies
Book Three
Ellie St. Clair
Prologue
London, 1810
The scent of fresh parchment and long-forgotten, leather-bound bank ledgers wafted through the office lined with mahogany shelves of endless records. Elizabeth sank into one of the plush leather chairs, which enveloped her as comfortably as an embrace from her grandfather. She returned the smile he bestowed upon her from across his solid wood desk as she picked up the glass of amber liquid that had arrived during the last hour, which they had spent reviewing the bank’s latest profit and loss statements.
“You learn quickly, Lizbeth,” he said, and Elizabeth’s heart warmed, for her grandfather never provided a compliment that he didn’t feel was deserved.
“Thank you, Grandpapa,” she said, lifting her glass to him before they each took a sip of the brandy, which he always insisted upon, though Elizabeth could admit she rather enjoyed the taste. “But I must say it is easy to learn when the subject is as interesting as this.”
He chuckled. “Not all feel the way you do, unfortunately. Why, your cousins…” he sighed and shook his head, and Elizabeth smiled ruefully, knowing his opinions on most of her cousins.
“They are all either more conceited than one could ever imagine or such fools I could hardly stand the time in their company. Not only that, all but you have turned down the invitation to spend time here with me learning the trade.”
“It is their loss,” Elizabeth said, arching an eyebrow, “For I can think of no better day than one spent with you. Thank you for sharing your knowledge—despite the fact that it is solely for my own enjoyment and I am taking you from far more important business.”
“Well,” her grandfather said gruffly without meeting her eyes. She knew that her words had touched him, but he would never, ever admit it, as he maintained his hardened exterior despite the softness she knew lay deep within. “Nothing is more important than my time with you, Lizbeth. I am only pleased that you understand the business as well as you do. It is not unheard of for women to be involved with banks, you know. I can tell you of more than a few who have done an excellent job as a partner, though most are within the countryside. Now tell me, what do you think of what we have just reviewed? Does anything concern you?”
Elizabeth paused for a moment, contemplating his question as she looked around her at the comfortable room that was the very essence of her grandfather—and rightly so, for he had been the senior partner of the bank for the past fifty years, since his own twentieth birthday. She wasn’t sure whether he had even spent more than a day away from the building in all of those years. The solid brick mortar that was the home of Clarke & Co. was as strong as the business her grandfather had built over the past many decades. The small bank he had inherited in his youth had become one of the most reputable and best known in London.
Elizabeth loved nothing more than following him through the long corridors, watching him greet each of the many people working in the building by name, whether they be the most junior of clerks, or the most senior of partners next to himself. He always told her that a small gesture such as an inquiry regarding a man’s family meant more than anyone likely realized.
She returned her thoughts to the subject at hand—the ledgers he had her review.
“It seems as though there is some strange anomaly—a pattern if you will,” she said. “It’s so small it is hardly noticeable, and yet the ledgers are out ever so slightly by the same amount from the same area far too often.”
Her grandfather, Thomas Clarke, nodded at her in approval. “Very good,” he said. “And how would you next investigate what is occurring?”
“I would ask to see the more finely detailed ledgers of those particular accounts, to determine what is common about them. Is it the same staff who are working on them? Are the accounts related?”
“What if you find that one clerk in particular is at fault?”
“He should be removed from
the bank.”
“And what if said clerk is working not only for himself but along with one of the partners?”
“Then the partner should also be released of his responsibility,” she said without hesitation. “Why, is this what has occurred?
“I believe so,” her grandfather said with a sigh. “You know, Lizbeth, I have always been so careful as to who I named partner, for it is much easier to welcome a new partner than to remove a current one. And yet… it seems I have made a mistake.”
He looked so disappointed with himself that Elizabeth leaned forward across the desk and placed a hand upon his.
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “People often hide their true characters. As you well know from your experiences with the people of the ton—no one is who they profess themselves to be.”
He shook his head, his gray hair still rather full, emphasizing the stately look he had always upheld. The only real acknowledgment to his age and the years spent analyzing books was the spectacles he now wore low near the tip of his nose in order to read the words scrawled amongst the bank ledgers.
“I shall never understand why your mother was so determined to find a way to make herself one of them,” he said with a sigh. “But, fortunately for her, your father, the Viscount of Shannon, was enamored with her beauty and, with a little help from the significant dowry I provided her, she was able to receive everything she ever wanted in life. Everything that was, apparently, only attainable with a title. Unfortunately, she now thinks herself above the rest of us, but somehow her daughter turned out to be the most magnificent woman—next to your grandmother—that I have ever met.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks reddened. She was aware of how lucky she was to have her grandfather in her life, particularly because her own father hardly noticed that she existed. He was far too busy at his clubs and with games of chance, which she never understood. She preferred what was a sure thing.
“She must, deep down, appreciate all you have done for her. And I am forever grateful to what you have provided me throughout my life.”
Thomas snorted.
“I am well aware you are, Lizbeth, but as to your mother—it is kind of you to attempt to placate an old man, but I am well aware of the truth. Now, as to this matter at hand. I currently have the power to choose which partners remain and which we hire on,” he explained. “It is both a privilege and a curse.”
“I can understand why you would feel such a way,” Elizabeth said. “What will you do?”
“I will discuss with the partner what I believe has occurred, and remove him if I must. If I do so, once I have proof of his actions, I will be sure to provide a full explanation to the other partners, of course,” her grandfather said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s important, Elizabeth, to be able to trust all of the partners of the company. This bank has been founded on integrity, loyalty, respectability, and honor, and if that were ever to change I fear what repercussions there might be.”
“Well, then, we are fortunate that you are at the helm to guide the ship,” Elizabeth said with a smile, but her grandfather wore a serious expression.
“I will not always be here, Lizbeth, so I must ensure that my legacy remains intact.”
“Oh, do not say such a thing,” Elizabeth said, her eyelids fluttering down to conceal just how much his words affected her. While she knew both her grandparents were getting older, of course, she hardly wanted to think of what life would be like without them, for they had always provided her with the warmth and understanding she had never felt from her parents.
“It’s the truth,” he said with a shrug. “I wish I could hire someone like you on as a clerk to work your way up through the company, but of course, that would never do. As my own son died far too young, and his son is an incompetent disaster… I must, therefore, impart all of my knowledge to someone who will listen. Your brother is affable enough, but I couldn’t hold his attention for an hour if I tried. I need someone I can trust.” He paused before continuing, and she wondered of whom he was referring. She wished it could be her, but alas, she was a woman, and therefore, it could never be. “My apologies for the morbidity of such discussion. Now, when it comes to the staff and their salaries, one must pay them highly enough to retain loyalty and to ensure they are well looked after and able to care for their families. It’s important to seek out talent and to reward those who go above and beyond. Does this make sense?”
“It does,” Elizabeth said with a nod. “Though I must ask—why is it so important to oversee all of this yourself? Do you ever think that you might like to spend more time at home with Grandmother, to begin to leave this work to someone else? Mother says that there are perfectly capable people working within the company, and while I am very aware that none of them could come close to providing the same scrutiny and care that you do within this bank, could some of them not provide more help to you?”
Elizabeth’s grandfather steepled his fingers under his chin and rested his elbows on the desk before him, careful not to smudge the fresh ink within a ledger.
“You have already touched upon the answer,” he said. “No one else cares for a business as truly as the person who is most invested. I do not take the responsibility of senior partner lightly, for no one else built this business, or can trace it back generations to the time when our family forged gold. My very blood is within this bank. If I want to ensure it is running at the best of its ability, I must do so myself, and make certain all is as it should be.”
Elizabeth listened carefully to his words, nodding as she agreed with him, then finished the glass of brandy on the table in front of her.
“I should likely be going now, Grandpapa,” she said “Mother would not be pleased if I were to be at home a minute past the allotted time for gathering in the parlor. Heaven only knows who she has invited to dine with us today.”
Elizabeth began to rise, but her grandfather held up a hand to stop her. It seemed he had one last question of her.
“I have heard that you have become particularly friendly with a certain Lord Gabriel Lockridge, son of the Duke of Clarence,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “But as this information comes to me via your mother, I thought that I best ask you myself as there is no guarantee that anything she tells me is accurate.”
Elizabeth was sure that her cheeks were now a flaming red, but she kept holding her head high. This was her grandfather, a man who knew her nearly better than anyone, save perhaps his wife, her grandmother.
“Lord Lockridge and I have become rather close, it is true,” she said, unable to meet his stare despite her attempts to appear unaffected. “I know it seems a rather unlikely match—myself and a man who will one day be one of the most powerful in England. His family and my father’s, however, have been friends for many years, and we have come to know one another well.”
“I am assuming it is not the fact that he will be a duke that draws you to him?” her grandfather asked with an eyebrow raised.
“Not at all!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “In fact, I find that to be more of a detriment. Can you imagine the pressures society must place on a duchess? But he is rather charming, and most importantly, he is quite intelligent, and I find that he most often sees the good in people, though he has a roundabout way of showing it. But I do believe, were we to find ourselves in a serious courtship, that life with him would be most… interesting.”
“Life is what you make of it, Lizbeth,” her grandfather said. “I believe I will have a conversation with the young man, to learn more about him. You must know, however, Lizbeth, that more than anything I wish for you to be happy, and loved. But I also hope that you are able to live your own passions, outside of the role a man may bring you.”
“Of course, Grandpapa.”
“Do you promise me that? You will never put a man’s desire for his life above your own?”
Elizabeth started. “I’m not sure that any man would be pleased with such a sentiment.”
“Just promise me, Lizbeth.”<
br />
“Very well,” she said, her eyes wide. “I promise.”
Chapter One
London, 1815
Gabriel Lockridge, Duke of Clarence, possessor of no fewer than five estates and manors, a seat in the House of Lords, guaranteed entrance into every social event he could possibly wish to join, and a man with unlimited wealth to spend as he pleased, was bored.
He sat in White’s Gentlemen’s Club, staring out the window at the rain falling from the sky, drenching the passersby who hurried from one destination to the next on this dismal, dreary day. Idly, he had one ear tuned into the conversations around him, but if anything, the inane gossip that drifted toward his ears only frustrated him. Idiots, all of them. Ever since his closest friend, Jeffrey Worthington, Marquess of Berkley, had married, Gabriel had been sorely lacking acquaintances whom he could stand for more than five minutes.
“Fancy a game of whist, your grace?” one newly-minted, eager marquess requested, but Gabriel waved him away, though he managed a tight-lipped smile. He was being rude, he knew, but it was difficult to summon much enthusiasm. Why he had even come here tonight, he had no idea, but he supposed it was better than sitting at home and staring across his study at the portrait of his father, frowning dourly back at him.
“Clarence,” he heard from behind him, and when he turned, Gabriel was relieved to see a face he actually welcomed. Mr. David Redmond, second son of the Earl of Brentford. While below Gabriel on the social ladder, he was actually somewhat entertaining, despite his reputation as a veritable rake—although perhaps that was some of the reason why Gabriel so enjoyed his company. Redmond knew how to tell a story, and while some may be slightly embellished, most were rather amusing.
Regency Scandals and Scoundrels Collection Page 95