“They will have no choice. I am the senior partner.”
“True,” he said with a slow nod. “But it will be difficult to gain any traction if none of them have any faith in you.”
“Is this why you came?” she challenged him now, “To question me and my competence?”
“Not at all,” he said. “I came because I wanted to discuss with you my accounts, as well as potential investments.”
“Should you not speak with your account manager regarding such matters?”
“I am a partner in the bank as well,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her. “I do not wish for my affairs to be discussed by just anyone. But since you are suggesting I speak with someone else, it makes me question your competence. Are you able to provide me the information and counsel I seek?”
“Of course,” she said smartly, reaching out a hand and snapping up the pile of papers he had placed on the table between them. “Just as I am able to run a simple partners’ meeting, no matter how I am challenged. And yes, Gabriel, I will be prepared.”
He had rattled her. She hadn’t even realized she had reverted to using his given name. Inwardly, he smiled, having achieved his objective. She was upset now, riled up, and he was glad of it. She needed that spunk, that winning attitude, if she were going to face down a table full of partners who would, despite their allegiance to Thomas Clarke, in all likelihood question her abilities and her competence. It was why he had come today, to see if she was ready, and she had been — almost. She had just needed that final push.
One thing that he couldn’t break? That frosty, cool exterior. It seemed the fiery, passionate side of her had disappeared. Elizabeth had no desire to be a woman to show emotion, to provide any type of warmth, any love. It was partially what had pushed him away from her all those years ago. She had been passionate, loving one night, and then the next day it was as though nothing had ever happened. He wanted to know fire, heat, desire, and as far as he could tell, Elizabeth Moreland had only felt them one night in her entire life. Whether she ever would again? That was certainly none of his affair.
“Very well,” was all he said. “Then let’s see to these accounts, shall we?”
CHAPTER8
Elizabeth called the partners’ meeting for later that week. In the meantime, she was kept busy as she was true to her word and moved her residence to her grandmother’s home. Her mother and father said nothing further about it, though she did feel the wrath of their disapproving stares.
“Mother, Father,” she said on her last dinner in their townhouse, an occasion for which her brother had joined them. “I do not want there to be any ill feeling between us. But the truth of the matter is that I do not know when or if I will ever marry, and as Father has noted, I cannot live in your home forever, waiting for a day that may never come. Grandpapa generously gifted me his home, and by moving there neither you nor Terrence has to worry about me.”
“I was never worried about you, Elizabeth,” Terrence said, winking at her. He had a similar look to her, though his face was slightly fuller where she knew her own was pinched. Perhaps it was just because she had always been far more uptight than he. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed that all of the responsibility and practicality that Terrence lacked, Elizabeth felt she had to make it up for it. They had the same tall, lanky build, though Terrence’s smile came much easier.
“You’ll make some bloke happy one day, I’m sure,” he continued, ever the optimist.
“I amnotso sure following her current decisions,” her father opinioned, staring at them both down his disapproving nose. “As for you Terrence, running all over London doing Lord only knows what with who, I do not even want to imagine. It is certainly not the way to win yourself a bride.”
“I’m young, Father!” Terrence said, practically laughing at Lord Moreland, which certainly didn’t help matters. “I’ll settle down in time, not to worry.”
“I believe that is enough of this conversation at the dinner table,” Elizabeth’s mother said. “You can save it for a gentleman’s discussion following dinner.”
“Oh, Mother, it's not as though Elizabeth doesn’t—”
“It is not Elizabeth’s ears I am worried about,” she said as her glance slid over to her daughter, clearly saying that she didn’t think much of Elizabeth’s own morals anymore. “But my own.”
Terrence only snorted at that, while Elizabeth ignored it. One more meal, and then she would no longer have to worry about her parents’ disapproval — or, at least, the constant reminder of it, for she was sure their disapproval would follow her no matter where she resided.
Besides, she didn't havetimeto worry about it any longer. Tomorrow was her first partners’ meeting, and more than anything, she had to be well prepared for it.
She tried not to think of the fact that Gabriel might be there. Why it mattered, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was because she knew he was not a man she could outwit. It bothered her that he would think her not capable to take on the position of senior partner. If he, a man who knew her well and was aware of her abilities, did not believe in her, then who would?
Her grandfather had, she reminded herself. Now, she just needed to show the rest of them what he had seen in her. If only she knew exactly what that had been. Her grandfather had certainly recognized her interest in the bank, which was why she had thought he had always been so ready to reward that interest with all of the instruction he had provided. Elizabeth reflected on all the tests he had put before her, all of the times he had asked for her opinion on a situation. She had enjoyed it, had appreciated the opportunity to feel useful, and for her opinions to be respected by a man such as him. But she had also always thought it was for her own benefit. Never had it crossed her mind that Thomas might be preparing her to step into the role — why he had never said a word of it to her, she would likely never know.
* * *
As Gabriel dressed that morning,he actually found himself looking forward to an event on his schedule for the first time in many days. In fact, the last time he had anticipated anything so much, it had been his meeting with Elizabeth. Why that was, he had no idea. Perhaps the fact that, unlike most aspects of his life, it provided a situation he could entirely control — which was something that had become rather thrilling, and how sad was that?
“What do you think, Baxter?” he asked, turning from one side to the other in front of the floor-length mirror. Gabriel had always been quite aware that one was always taken much more seriously if he looked the part expected of him.
“You look quite exceptional, Your Grace, very much so,” his valet said as he tied Gabriel’s cravat, ensuring that it was immaculate. Gabriel eyed himself critically, wondering for a moment if the striped pattern on his waistcoat wastooslimming, but then decided that it was just fine and he was being ridiculous. It was a bloody bank meeting, not a ball with the Prince Regent in attendance.
He arrived at the bank with some time to spare, as he always did, pleased that most recognized him when he entered.
“Good day, Your Grace,” Anderson said, nodding his head as Gabriel walked by. Ah, Anderson. He was as much a part of this bank as the brick walls himself. Gabriel walked into the front foyer, gazing up at the stone vaulted ceiling above him, upon which stood the sculpted guardians of the bank who looked down from their dome at all below them.