Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Leonard leaned forward in his chair, his back stiff. “She took it, Andrew. I know it sounds impossible, but there is no other explanation.”
Chair creaking, Andrew stood up and walked to the unlit fireplace along the wall, turning and leaning against the mantel with one leg crossed in front of the other.
“While I find that incredibly difficult to believe, let us follow the thought through. What if she did? Do you know this young woman? And if you found her, could you prove she took it?”
“No.” Leonard tipped his head back until it clunked against the chair. “So now I have no choice but to remove my investments after all. I get to lose money twice. How very lucky for me.”
“You know, you could have just gotten married like the rest of us. If only you tried to be a bit more pleasant and smiled from time to time, you could have a bride by the end of the week.”
“And you know that is the last thing I want.” While he himself seemed a curmudgeon to most, he did care.
That was what caused him to be so abrupt.
It warded people away and protected them.
He wanted no one else to fall victim to his father’s managing ways, especially as far as bringing children into the world went.
Andrew’s face softened. “I understand, Leonard. Really, I do. But marriage is not the awful affair you think it is. With the right person, it can be incredibly fulfilling.”
He shook his head. Now that he had officially lost the wager, there was nothing to induce him to try now. “The family line will not continue through me.”
“Then it likely will not continue at all.”
Leonard stood, facing his friend. “And that pleases me just fine.” Andrew opened his mouth as if to speak, but Leonard held up a hand. “Just pull the money, if you would, please. And that will be the end of this awful ordeal.”
“If that is really what you want.”
What Leonard really wanted was for his brother to be well, and for his father to stop controlling his life. But as that wasn’t what Andrew was referring to, Leonard pressed on. “Yes. That’s what I want.”
He turned on his heel, walking out his friend’s office door and through the bank until he was outside in the unseasonable cold of late September.
Rushing to his father’s carriage, he paused on the bottom step as another carriage rolled to a stop. It was quite a ridiculous affair. Painted a garish yellow with tasseled window coverings, it screamed, “Look how rich and important I am.”
It was only annoyance that kept Leonard from entering his own carriage.
The coachman descended and opened the door, and what came next made Leonard take a step down from his own conveyance.
A slippered foot came first, and then a young woman ducked out just enough to open her parasol before taking her coachman’s hand and exiting fully.
The hair, the face, the eyes—he knew them.
It was her.
He shot into his carriage, not waiting for Nichols to open the door. Instead, he practically pressed his nose to the window as he watched the young woman enter the bank Leonard had just left.
Part of him wished to run out and confront her, but it was all so unexpected.
He really didn’t know how to go about doing that, especially on a public street.
Instead, he waited what seemed like an hour, and when she came back outside, glancing both ways on the sidewalk before entering her own conveyance, he headed back inside.
A man walked forward. “Can I help you?”
“Just here to see Mr. Langford.” He continued to Andrew’s office, taking the chair opposite his desk.
“Stanton?” His brow puckered. “Change your mind already?”
“Who was that young woman in here just now?”
He pulled his chin back as he lifted a paper from his desk and studied it. “Which young woman?”
“Blonde. Pretty. Blue eyes.”
Andrew’s eyes shot up from the page he held, tipping his head to the side. “Mrs. Gillingham?”
“I don’t know her name. That’s what I want to know. But she was just here and left not two minutes ago.”
Andrew dropped the paper back onto his desk. “That would be her, then. But what about her? Did you change your mind about marriage too?”
“No.” Leonard shook his head. “She is the one who stole my great-grandmother’s ring.”
Andrew’s brow furrowed, and he slowly shook his head as if in disbelief. “No. That cannot be. While she is a bit . . . eccentric, she has always been a good client. A whizz with numbers actually. She took a meager inheritance from her husband and turned it into a thriving one.”
“She is the woman,” Leonard pressed. “You must admit she has a face one does not easily forget.”
Andrew seemed to give the thought pause.
“I just cannot fathom why she would steal from you, let alone anyone. I cannot reveal all she has, but I will say it is no small sum.” Sorting the papers together, as if needing to do something, Andrew picked them up and tapped them into neat order. “I simply cannot believe it.”
“Can you at least give me her address and let me decide for myself?”
Andrew chewed his lip, folding his arms across his desk. “I don’t think that’s ethical.”
“Neither is stealing, but this Mrs. Gillingham does not seem to have a problem with that.”
“I simply can’t believe it.”
“I promise not to tell her how I got her address if you give it to me. Please, Andrew.”
As if hearing the note of desperation in Leonard’s voice, Andrew’s eyes flicked to the top of the paper in his hand. “I have to go to a meeting. And if you discover something while I am away, then it is what it is.” He stood. “Do you still wish me to pull those investments?”
“No, not yet.” Leonard put his fist to his chin.
Nodding, then giving the paper one last look, Andrew strode out of the room.
Leonard leaned forward, taking the top page by the corner and turning it toward him.
There, in all its beauty, sat Mrs. Honora Gillingham’s address.