Page 55 of Lady of Providence
"It was my choice — not his."
"Say Clarence truly is interested in you,” Henry said, though he rolled his eyes to tell her that he clearly didn’t believe such a thing could be true. “Do you really believe he would want his wife to remain the senior partner in the bank?"
"I do."
Elizabeth realized then that she did — she did believe that what Gabriel had said to her was true, that he would support her. To what extent, she wasn't sure, but she had a renewed hope that they could determine the best path forward.
"You would give him a pretty fortune."
“I keep my own inheritance, as you may recall. As for future income, he doesn't want it. He has enough of his own."
"No one ever has enough," Henry said with a sneer. "Not even your pretty duke."
"Careful, Henry — you are stretching now."
"I am stretching nothing," he said, standing, as though he thought that if he towered over her, he could become much more imposing, but she still saw him as nothing but a little rat she could fit underneath her boot. "I know with complete certainty that the Duke has no desire to see Clarke & Co. run by Lady Elizabeth Moreland. He has been spying on you, Elizabeth — for me. I just never thought he would go to such great lengths to do so. I suppose he thought to get a little action as part of the deal. Which is smart. I certainly would!"
He cackled at that, as Elizabeth stood up in anger. "You're lying!" she said, her hands by her sides in fists.
"I am not," he said, holding his head high, obviously pleased to see that he had finally managed to anger Elizabeth. "Ask him yourself if you'd like. I know he is a well-practiced liar, but at some point, he must admit to what he has done. It isn't as though he would indeed marry you. Or… oh no, you poor thing. You thought he actually would?”
He began to laugh at that, not a low chuckle this time, but a long laugh. Elizabeth felt as though she were ready to explode, and all she could do now was raise her arm and point her finger to the door of the gardens.
"Get. Out."
"Elizabeth..."
"Get out, right now," she seethed. "Before I find a footman and have you thrown out. Go right to the front door, march yourself down those steps, and do not return here. Ever. Do you understand me?"
"I—"
"I said, do you understand me?"
Her words were now low and threatening, and Henry visibly blanched, providing Elizabeth with a moment of slight satisfaction.
"Very well."
He sniffed, turned, and let himself out the door, but not before he sent a small, knowing, smug smile over his shoulder toward Elizabeth. It grated on her to admit it, but he had achieved his goal.
For the moment he was out of sight and out of hearing, she collapsed back onto the bench, laid her head in her arms, and began to weep.
CHAPTER26
It had been over four days since Gabriel had asked Elizabeth to marry him — for the second time in their lives. He had been understanding, he felt, the first day. Patient the second. Slightly frustrated the third, the day she had promised to provide her answer. And now, four days later, he decided he was no longer waiting. Surely by now, she knew what she wanted. At the very least, she owed him a response of some sort.
It was a matter of principle, he attempted to reason. A man of his stature could not be so affected by a woman. Truth be told, he would never have expected himself to be a man to wait for a woman’s decision. If she didn’t want him, then so be it.
But as he crossed the threshold of the bank, nodding to Anderson, he sighed. He had allowed Elizabeth into his being. It was more than physical. He was tied to her, connected in a way he couldn’t explain, and he didn’t want to let her go. He wouldn’t.
He climbed the stairs determinedly, surprised for a moment when he found that the anteroom outside of her office was now filled with a desk, a young man sitting behind it.
“Good afternoon,” Gabriel said, as he walked past the man to Elizabeth’s door beyond.
The young man looked up at him, stood hastily, and began to tap his fingertips nervously on the table. “Your Grace, good afternoon,” he said, bowing slightly to Gabriel, which caused him to smile. Such circumstance.
Seeing that Gabriel was about to enter Elizabeth’s office, the man rushed from behind his desk to stand between Gabriel and the door. There wasn’t much room, and Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him, not pleased with his close proximity.
“Ah…” the lad, who looked as though he had only recently reached his twentieth year, stuttered with a sheepish smile, “M-my apologies, Your Grace, but ah, Lady Elizabeth is not accepting visitors at the moment.”
