An Heiress to Remember (The Gilded Age Girls Club #3) - Maya Rodale Page 0,14

be bested by a woman.”

Beatrice settled back in her seat, which was dreadfully uncomfortable. The smell was appalling. The traffic was awful, of course. Her heart was still racing and she definitely had qualms about what she had done today—and would do tomorrow—but for the moment she was surprised to find she felt happy to be exactly here. Doing something. Speaking her mind. She’d never felt so alive.

This feeling is what she’d crawled through the hellfire and agonies of divorcing a duke for.

Dalton looked at her. She looked at him looking at her.

He did not seem to be noticing the faint wrinkles near her eyes, nor did he seem to be eyeing her figure as she’d caught more than one man in the meeting doing today. No, she had the distinct impression he was looking at her as a competitor, trying to discern how much fire and fight she would bring to their competition.

He did not seem to be underestimating her.

That thrilled her. To her dismay. If he’d just looked at her lasciviously as men were wont to do, she could easily dismiss him. But no, he had to look at her like a capable human and of course she had to find that . . . intriguing. Arousing.

Was that the word? Was that the feeling? It had been a while.

She gave a sigh. She didn’t have time for feelings like that now. Not when she was about to go up against the most successful retailer in Manhattan, who possessed one of the top three great fortunes of the age. Not when she had to quickly plot how to take over from her brother, convince the board to give her time to turn the store around.

And then she had to figure out how to actually turn the store around.

Daunting as the prospect may be, Beatrice would not shy away from it.

She had come too far, braved too much.

She had been too bored. She had sixteen years of living to make up for.

To his credit, Dalton didn’t try to dissuade her.

It was unspoken but understood: they were both going to throw themselves headlong into a competition and it was going to be something fierce. Because they grew up in the world of department stores. Of money and desire, tightly intertwined. And it was well-known between them: they were both passionate and determined, perhaps even a little ruthless and practical. She thought of the choice they’d faced years and years ago. How they’d answered. How love and passion only mattered so much.

If he wanted Goodwin’s, he would stop at nothing to have it.

The question she ought to ask was, Why?

So she did. They had time. They were stuck in traffic.

“Why are you so determined to have it anyway?”

“What if I told you that I’ve always wanted it?”

“I’d believe you. But still I would ask, why?”

“Let’s call it unfinished business. Unsettled debts.”

“There you go, being all broody and inscrutable again. I don’t know who ever gave the impression that women found it a desirable trait in men.”

“Fine. I’ll tell you.” His eyes flashed. “I want to buy Goodwin’s and then I want to shut it down. Because I want revenge for wrongs done to me. For what was stolen from me.”

Ah, another man who thought the world owed him something. She nodded and replied soberly. “A noble purpose. Revenge.”

“You’re mocking me.”

His anger flared; she could see it in his eyes and the tightening of his jaw. She’d best remember that she was alone in a carriage with him, and close proximity to an angry man was hardly a desirable place to be, as she knew all too well. Castles weren’t that big.

But she couldn’t just let a declaration of REVENGE go unremarked upon.

They were civilized people in 1895 Manhattan, for Lord’s sake.

“And after you have obtained your revenge, hypothetically speaking, what will you do? You are still young enough.”

“I’ll live my life knowing that I have achieved my purpose.”

“You haven’t really thought about it, have you?” She lifted one brow. “You have been so fixated on some slight done to you and obtaining satisfaction that you haven’t even thought about the rest of your life once you’ve achieved it.”

“Some people would be impressed with my focus.”

“I think we both know that I’m not Some People. I suppose this has to do with what happened between us all those years ago.”

“What happened all those years ago was this. You and your family—people I loved most in the world, by the way—made clear to me