Page 17 of Lady of Providence
Clerks lined the long counters throughout the room, some assisting their clients while others scribbled in ledger books, awaiting the next arrival. He passed them all, looking about him with new eyes at the Cararra marble walls around him, which were inlaid with engravings of the Clarke family crest as well as the alchemical symbol for gold, a nod to the origins of the bank. All of this, Thomas Clarke had built. And all of it was now under Elizabeth’s watchful eye.
Gabriel took the large marble stairs that spiraled up and around the corner as he sought out the room where they would meet. It was large enough to fit a table for eight partners and, at times, the senior manager or a clerk, but it was also rather intimate, with dark shelves lining the room and portraits of Clarke descendants hanging on free space.
Gabriel was pleased to find that he was the first to arrive although, of course, Elizabeth was already present, seated at the head of the table with a couple of tidy stacks of paper and a pen in front of her.
“Prepared as usual?” he asked as he entered the room, though he didn’t yet sit, but leaned against the doorjamb to watch her.
She jumped slightly when he spoke, as he had clearly taken her off guard.
“Of course,” she said easily, hiding her momentary relapse of the wall of protectiveness with which she surrounded herself. “And you are early.”
“Though it seems I could never be quite as early as you,” he said, entering now, walking around the table to the chairs that were across from her, at what would become the back of the room. He always preferred to remain behind everyone else, so that he may observe the behavior of the rest of them before he came to his own opinions — or, at the very least, made them known.
She said nothing but simply returned to reviewing the paper in front of her. As silently as he could, he rounded the table so that he could peer over her shoulder.
“I see you’ve made an agenda.”
While she had jumped rather high before, Elizabeth nearly flew from her seat now — her head came up, crashing into Gabriel’s face. His eyes were instantly blinded by tears and a sudden shock of pain, and then he felt the filling of his nose the moment before it began to drip blood.
“My goodness!” Elizabeth said, coming to her feet completely now as she looked around desperately for something with which to help him. “I’m sorry, Gabriel, but you startled me. I had no idea you were there—”
He waved away her words as he held his nose in one hand, rifling through his pockets in search of his handkerchief with the other. Seeing what he was doing, she reached into his pocket for him, finding a beautifully starched white linen and holding it to his face, where it was instantly stained.
It was at that moment that the first partner arrived, stopping in the doorway with a stunned look on his face as he took in the scene in front of him.
“My word,” said Mr. Cartwright, a longtime acquaintance of the Clarke family. “Is everything all right, Lady Elizabeth?”
“Fine, fine,” she said, holding pressure on Gabriel’s nose until he finally succeeded in swatting her hand away, noting as he did so that a fine bead of perspiration had broken out on her forehead. “I might just step away for a moment to find some assistance. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”
She was out the door in a swish of black silk before either of them could say anything. Gabriel gingerly nodded at Cartwright as he felt the liquid beginning to lessen. It wasn’t long before Elizabeth sailed back into the room, her practiced smile fixed on her face, though Gabriel could tell she was slightly agitated. Clearly, this wasn’t how she had anticipated her first meeting to begin. She was accompanied by a footman, who quickly cleaned up any remaining mess. Unfortunately, no one could do anything to help Gabriel himself. His immaculate cravat was now stained with drops of red blood, though thankfully he had worn a black jacket over his waistcoat which hid any blemish. Gabriel sighed. This was undoubtedly not the impression he had hoped to make, and Baxter certainly would not be pleased with him.
“Thank you, Giles,” Gabriel heard Elizabeth say to the footman as he took his seat at the back of the room. The remainder of the partners soon began to filter in and he greeted them as they arrived, most of them well known to him. They all looked at him with slight confusion, and he was well aware why — he wasn’t sure anyone had ever seen him quite so disheveled, in addition to the fact that he rarely attended partners’ meetings unless there was a matter upon which he needed to vote.
“Welcome, everyone,” Elizabeth said, standing at the head of the table as she looked around the room, meeting the gaze of each of the six men. “Thank you for coming on rather short notice. Upon the passing of my grandfather, I thought it pertinent that we meet as soon as possible to ensure the continuity of the management of the bank. Unfortunately, Mr. Mortimer is unable to join us today due to his ill health.”
One of the other gentlemen seated around the table leaned forward with a finger in the air.
“Ah, excuse me, Lady Elizabeth, but I must ask. Are you planning on actively working within your role as the senior partner?”
She looked at him for a moment as though she were confused.
“Well, yes, Mr. Lang. That is why I am here, leading this meeting.”
“And how would you know what to do?”
He bestowed upon her a kindly grin, one that Gabriel was sure he meant to use in order to soften his words, but it didn’t seem to make a difference to Elizabeth.
“Unlike my grandfather, Mr. Lang, who had to discover for himself how to both build and manage a bank, I had the opportunity to learn directly from his experience. I cannot tell you how many hours I have spent within the walls of this building. I believe he named me his successor in order to ensure that the legacy of this bank remains consistent, and I intend to uphold the trust he bestowed within me.”
Her words were matter-of-fact, strong, and yet still respectful. Gabriel admired her manner — though, he always had.
“But, Lady Elizabeth,” said another man, a young baronet, “Do you not have other commitments to which you must attend?”
“Do you mean accepting callers in my drawing room, Sir Gray?”
The man looked slightly chastened. “I would be referring to various social events that a woman such as yourself would be expected to attend.”
“I can assure you, Sir Gray, that nothing is currently more important to me than this bank.”
