Page 24 of Lady of Providence
"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 ofThe 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 anythingbutdance 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.
CHAPTER12
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 yourself, as always."
