Page 29 of Lady of Providence
“Mmm hmm,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “So why this sudden interest in the bank?”
“I have always been interested in the bank.”
“You have been interested, perhaps, but I don’t recall you taking an active role when my grandfather was alive.”
“I attended meetings.”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” he said with a bit of a sigh, wondering how much to tell her. “The truth of it is, Elizabeth, after we broke off our courtship, I was unsure of what your grandparents knew of the reason for it. I was too ashamed to face them for some time, and then it was difficult to know what to say later on. I must admit I was a coward.”
She stopped on the path they were walking, a gentleman behind them fixing them with a glare before continuing around them.
“Those are the last words I ever thought I would hear from the Duke of Clarence.”
“Well, hear them you have,” he said, chuckling self-consciously. He himself had never thought to make such a confession to her, but he supposed she deserved to hear it.
"Gabriel," she said, dipping her head before tilting it up toward him, and he led her ever-so-slightly off the path, out of the way of others walking by. His heart quickened when he saw how wide her eyes were, her emotions open to him now, bared in a way he didn't think they ever had been before — at least not to him. “I must ask you…”
When she hesitated, he said softly, “Yes?”
“Why wasn't I enough?"
He looked down at her, her violet eyes probing into him as though searching his own might provide her with the answer she was looking for.
“I thought we would be married,” she continued, breaking their gaze for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the sheen of tears that covered her eyes. “I know our tryst in the garden was certainly not planned, but when you offered for me, I had thought that it was more than you simply feeling you had to do the right thing, but that you actually desired to be with me. And then, when I saw you…”
Her voice broke, as did his heart at the despondency in her question. He yearned to tell her that she was enough, that she always would be, and that it was himself who had been lacking. But how to put that into words without becoming completely vulnerable?
"Elizabeth..." he said slowly, carefully. "I was young. I was... having fun. It wasn't you at all. I suppose I just wasn't ready to settle down.”
He had been young, yes, foolish, and interested in the world open to him, a world full of women who were eager to please him. At least, that’s what he had been telling himself for so long now. The more time he spent with Elizabeth, however, the more he realized that there had been more behind his actions. He, the Duke of Clarence, the man afraid of nothing, had been a coward. For the truth was, he had been so full of questions, so afraid of disappointing her, that he had subconsciously destroyed their relationship before it had barely begun. He had always been confident in himself, knew his strength, his intelligence, and his ability to take on most things that had come his way.
This, however, was one area in which he doubted himself. Would he have —couldhe have — made a good husband? He realized now how insecure he had been. How, instead of telling her all of this, he had done the unthinkable, at least in her eyes. He had rationalized it all by telling himself she was too cold to care, but that had been wrong. He knew he should tell her this even now, but he couldn’t seem to find the words to admit such a thing.
"And now you are ready? To stop ‘having fun,’ as you say, to settle down?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what this is all about, why you have suddenly decided to pay me attention once again?"
"I am intrigued by you," he said honestly. "You are one of the most proper, respectable women I have ever met. And yet the position you have taken on is nearly unheard of, particularly for a woman of your station. The way you handle it all is a marvel."
"So you are spending time with me in order to slake your boredom?"
He supposed she was particularly right in his initial interest in becoming more involved with the bank, with her in particular. But it had become more than that. He felt as though he now had a vested interest in her success, in the bank's success. And at the same time, he couldn't help the affection and attraction he felt toward her.
"I am spending time with you because I enjoy doing so," he said, finally settling on what he knew to be the truth.
She didn't seem particularly inclined to entirely believe him, but she didn't question him any further, for which he was grateful. He hadn't partaken in a conversation of such intelligent wit in some time, and it was rather taxing.
“Very well,” she said. “I believe I am ready to return home.”
“Just one question,” he said, taking her arm once more and walking her toward the fountain in the corner of the park, where they were slightly more secluded from others walking nearby.
“Yes?”
“Could we at least be friends? I do enjoy your company, and I must say that I miss it.”
She hesitated before nodding slowly, then returned her gaze to him. “Very well, Gabriel. Friends once more.”
She reached out a gloved hand, and he took it within his own fingers. Only he didn't stop there. He couldn’t. He grasped her hand, pulled it toward him, and then took her warm, pink lips with his own.
