Page 5 of Lady of Providence
Mr. Smith paused a moment, looking slightly ill, before continuing. "The rest of you are greedy, selfish, or incapable of any responsibility — some are all of the above. Take your pick. That is all.”
The gasps that were emitted then were more than simply horrified, but outraged. Elizabeth's jaw must have been nearly on her chest, for a soft, white-gloved finger was soon gently closing it, the arm it was attached to then returning to snake back over Elizabeth’s shoulder.
"Gather yourself together, daughter," Elizabeth's mother whispered in her ear, causing Elizabeth to jump in surprise. She hadn't even realized her mother was behind her as she had been so caught up in Smith's words but moments ago.
Elizabeth could feel her mother’s fingers upon the back of her chair as Lady Moreland stood and gracefully crossed the room to stand next to the solicitor, a smile covering her face as she looked between the man and the rest of her family before her.
"Thank you, Mr. Smith, for attending to us this morning in order to impart our father's wishes with us," she said. "It has been most... interesting, I believe we can all agree. I am sure it will take some time for us all to overcome his passing, as well as digest just how... generous he has been to some of us. All of us."
She cleared her throat.
"Thank you again. Should we have any questions, we know where we may find you."
How did her mother turn everything she said into a threat? Elizabeth wondered, but then the solicitor was nodding at the rest of them. He approached her, asked if they could meet again in the near future in order to ensure all was in order, and Elizabeth managed a weak smile in return before turning around to find that the rest of her family was still staring at her.
“But she is awoman!” It was Elizabeth’s cousin Frederick now voicing his displeasure. His mother was Thomas’ other daughter. “How in the world is a woman supposed to take on such a position? Is it even legal?”
“It is,” the solicitor said from behind her, chiming into the conversation, though his contribution was met with glares. It didn’t seem to overly bother him. “There is additional information within the will in which I did not suppose you would be interested at this moment, but Mr. Clarke was meticulously detailed as regards Lady Elizabeth’s inheritance. I was going to speak with her about this in a separate meeting, but perhaps it is best you are all aware. The will reads that ‘the bulk of the estate will go to Elizabeth, for her sole and disparate use, independent of any debts or contracts of her present or future husband.’”
One of the ladies — one of her cousins, though which, Elizabeth had no idea for they all were so alike — laughed from across the room and Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She was well aware that none of them believed she would ever be married, and perhaps they were right. She just wished it was due to choice and not the fact that she remained a cold, practical woman who had no time to simper behind a fan at any gentleman who may be so inclined to look her way. That was likely to change, she thought with a rueful smile, as she was now an heiress and there would be many who would be more than interested in assuming such a fortune, despite however meticulously her grandfather had been in his wording of the will.
Her cousin Henry clearly misinterpreted her slight smile as he stalked toward her.
“‘Did you know?" Henry hissed.
"Of course not!" Elizabeth exclaimed, gathering herself together. This was no time to allow anyone to be aware that she was at all affected by what they might think. She heard her Aunt Betsy snort but steeled her spine to the responses that she was sure were coming. Henry would be the worst, she was well aware, and he didn't disappoint as he now stood in front of her, a finger in her face.
"That partnership should be mine," he said in a low voice, though Elizabeth saw that her grandmother could hear his words and did not look particularly pleased with them.
"And why would you feel that way?" Elizabeth asked, coolly raising an eyebrow.
"I am the eldest male grandchild of all the family. I do not have a father who is a lord and can pass down his title and all that is entailed."
"I will neither receive such a thing, you do realize," she replied, reflecting on the fact of how right her grandfather was when he came to Henry — her cousin was a childish idiot.
"Obviously," he came up with in response. "And so why would you ever think that you should inherit so great a responsibility as a bank, where it is not only your own livelihood at stake but that of every client who banks with you?"
"I can certainly handle it much better than you ever could," she retorted.
"Oh?" he challenged her. "And what are you going to do? Walk around asking who would like tea every morning? Embroider the clerks’ coverings for the walls?”
She could have slapped him in the face — her friend Phoebe certainly would have — but Elizabeth took a deep breath and counted backward from ten within her head in order to maintain her calm.
"I'll tell you whatIwould do," he said, narrowing his eyes, and clearly he had put some thought into this, apparently having been under the impression for some time that he would be the one in the seat behind Thomas’ desk.
"Do I even want to know?"
He ignored her and continued.
"Major changes are needed at Clarke & Co.," he said with much assurance. "The partnership needs new blood. It can no longer be composed of Grandfather's contemporaries and favorites. I know of many people who would make terrific partners, and I will be sure to share those names with you — for the time being. I suppose you will be in tomorrow? I certainly would be. Now, as for salaries. They are far, far too high. Why, these people are clerks, not partners, and they need to be paid as such. And Grandfather's donations, oh, those definitely must be abolished. Why should we pay for someone else's dinner when those people could work themselves?"
"That is an interesting question coming from a man who would propose to cut wages of employees — some who have large families to feed. How, then, would you suggest that people keep from requiring donations of those who have more than they need?"
"You're going to run that place into the ground," Henry snarled, and Elizabeth stiffened her spine as she began to retort in an altogether polite, proper, yet no-nonsense manner. Before she could open her mouth, however, a soft hand touched her arm and gently tugged her back.
"Henry, dear, I am ashamed of you," their grandmother said with a stern gaze. Justine Clarke was nearly eighty, and yet she retained the inner strength that she had always held, which Elizabeth well admired. Justine was a tall woman, nearly as tall as Elizabeth, and was proud of the hold she retained upon her youth.
"Grandmother?" he asked with some consternation.
