Page 35 of Lady of Providence
“I cannot deny how much I am inexplicably attracted to him,” she said, biting her lip. “I have never been able to lose that enchantment, no matter what he says or what he does. He is a handsome man, and every time I look at him all I can think of is… well…” she felt her cheeks warm. “I have rather improper thoughts, if I am being honest. If we hadn’t the past that we do, I would not be afraid to follow through to determine if there are still emotions lurking there, but as it is, I cannot trust him, nor myself. For it would be too easy to fall for him, to allow myself to forget everything that happened before and be right back in his arms. And then where would I be? Once again, I would be with a man who had eyes for not only me but for other women as well. I could very well lose my heart, but even more than that — I could, perhaps, lose all my grandfather has built, for would a duke truly want a wife who was also the senior partner of a bank?”
Sarah smiled softly and tilted her head to the side as she studied Elizabeth.
“I understand your dilemma, truly I do,” she said. “Once trust is broken, it is a very difficult thing to regain. It can only come with time, and with proof that it should be reinstated. As for what the Duke would want, well… that is a question that only he can answer. And I don’t recall saying anything about marriage.”
Elizabeth cleared her throat, realizing her blunder. She shouldn’t be thinking about marriage to Gabriel, for she was not the type of woman willing to stand idly by while her husband took lovers or mistresses. And yet, she could not deny that the thought of forever with him had crept in once more.
“I only mentioned it because courting typically leads to marriage, does it not?”
“It does,” agreed Sarah. “And while I am happy to discuss all of this with you, I must say, I think there is someone else with whom you must speak.”
“You’re right,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “I hate to admit it, but you are.”
“Come, now, Elizabeth, you are the senior partner of a bank. How difficult can it be to have one small conversation with a man?”
Elizabeth chuckled ruefully.
“You have no idea,” she said as the image of Gabriel came to mind. “No idea at all.”
* * *
When she sawhim the following night at a small party of about thirty people, Elizabeth knew it was not the time for such a discussion. No, she would save it for another day, when there were far fewer people about and she had time to collect her wits.
Though it would have to be soon, for she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take questioning what she was to say, nor how he would respond. How many times had she rehearsed the words over and over within her mind? And then there was the longing… the longing she wished she could ignore, but lingered there, tempting her, taunting her as though it were alive and whispering in her ear.
This was why she had decided to keep her distance. And why she had determined that if he wasn’t going to make his intentions clear, then she would just have to take the initiative to tell him that his attentions were, unfortunately, not required, nor were they wanted.
She just wouldn’t explain that it was only her mind that had decided such things, while the rest of her was yearning for him and all that he could offer her.
But her mind was strong, she reminded herself — and it was determined.
She set her chin resolutely, lifting an invisible shield before her as she perused the attendees at tonight’s party. She noted one or two clients, with whom she would be sure to converse. There were a few who could potentially become clients as well, ones she was determined to bring to the bank to prove her worth to the rest of the partners.
Not that it was required.
Her thoughts were arrested, however, when Gabriel walked through the door. Once her eyes came to rest upon him, it was beyond her to tear them away, for it was as though they belonged upon his person — as did the rest of her.
Elizabeth remained rooted on the spot despite the fact she knew she looked a fool. She was sure she wasn’t the only woman to note Gabriel’s arrival, nor his dark chestnut locks, or the way his breeches and deep navy jacket fitted so perfectly to the planes of his body. A sculptor would so love to have him as a model, she thought, before her thoughts wandered to him as a model in the nude — a sight she hadn’t seen with her eyes in the dark of the gardens that night, but had felt underneath her fingertips.
When Gabriel caught her eye now, his own widened just a touch, and then, accompanied by his slow, seductive smile, he winked at her. Heat rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks as she realized just how obvious she had been in her perusal of him, how she was undressing him with both her eyes and her imaginings here in the middle of the receiving room. She had to get a hold of herself before she was made a fool.
She nodded at him primly before she turned, picked up a glass of lemonade from the table beside her, and fled as quickly and as she gracefully could, out the doors and into the night air of the garden for some cool, blessed relief.
* * *
Gabriel watched her go,pleasure coursing through him at her reaction to him. She wanted him.
It had been a slow dance, this courtship, one that was frustrating him to no end. For he, a man who had once taken pride in his ability to capture nearly any conquest he endeavored to chase, had been unable to see anyone but Elizabeth since he had come to her rescue the night of her grandfather’s funeral.
He knew she fought her own feelings toward him — he could see it in her eyes when he called upon her, when he danced with her. He could see it when she let down her guard — when she laughed at a joke he told, became entranced in a story he relayed, or widened her eyes in shock at a piece of gossip she swore she didn’t want to hear yet eagerly listened to anyway.
For then he would make the smallest motion toward her, and she would instantly tense up, as though she were remembering all of the reasons she had promised herself she would never allow him to become close again. It killed him, but he understood. Now he just had to make her forget the past and move into the future.
For as much as it pained him to admit that one woman alone commanded his attention, it seemed he could do nothing but attempt to capture Lady Elizabeth Moreland.
Now she ran from him. He tilted his head when she contemplated her exit. Was she running from him, or wanting him to chase after her?
Gabriel sensed another gaze upon him, and he turned to find Miss Sarah Jones, Elizabeth’s friend, studying him. She could be described as plain, he thought, with her brown hair and brown eyes. But there was something interesting about her look. Her hair was soft around her face, and unlike Elizabeth’s nearly hidden freckles, those of Miss Jones were clearly speckled across her nose and over her cheeks. She didn't look at him as most did, as though they wanted to devour him whole one way or another.
