An Heiress to Remember (The Gilded Age Girls Club #3) - Maya Rodale Page 0,8
while. Not since . . . she was twenty years old and young and in love.
“What if I told you that wasn’t mad at all?” Adeline asked.
“I’d say that was the reply I’d hoped for. But I need you to convince me of it. You must have heard the store isn’t doing well.”
“It’s not what it used to be,” Adeline replied diplomatically.
“My brother wants to sell it as swiftly as possible, but I have thoughts of saving it. I think I could do better. I certainly couldn’t do worse. The problem is that I need to convince my brother and the board of directors to allow me to try. And you know . . .”
“Men.”
“Exactly.”
“You might not have to ask for permission. Goodwin’s is a family business, is it not?”
“Yes. My father always said it belonged to all of us.”
“Then you might be entitled to have a say. You ought to consult with a lawyer.”
Well now, that sounded serious. But she did have experience consulting with lawyers. She’d hoped never to do so again, after going through the process of trying to divorce a duke, but for Goodwin’s, and her family’s legacy, for her future . . .
It would be worth a try.
But lawyers and legalities and stopping a sale that a boardroom full of men wanted to go through was only the first hurdle. Her stomach dropped into her shoes just thinking about it. All those suits, all those jowls, all those patronizing smiles. They had ways of making even the most confident woman forget her own name and Beatrice was still feeling a little raw and vulnerable.
“Suppose I could stop the sale,” she said. “The other problems would still persist—terrible sales figures, the store’s reputation for being outdated, to say nothing of my brother whose pride would never allow a woman to succeed where he had failed. It’s just so sad that my father’s dream, my dream, should be lost forever, at the hands of my wretched brother who would rather blame others than consider how to solve the problem.”
The dressmaker was regarding her curiously.
“Have you ever considered that you might be looking right at the solution?”
Beatrice was standing in front of the mirror. Looking right at herself. A woman of a certain age, allegedly past her prime, with faint lines around her eyes. Of course she considered that she was the solution. She wanted to be the solution. She wanted it so badly that she was considering facing the roomful of suits and jowls and patronizing smiles. Owning and running the store was her dream.
But the duke and dowager hadn’t gotten out of her head yet. Even on another continent she could still hear him.
You? You can barely manage the staff in this household. None of them respect you. How will you run a store? What do you know of business? I thought I told you not to style your hair like that.
“Please consider it,” the dressmaker said. “I think you can do it. And should you wish to discuss it further, you can find me and my friends here.” Adeline pulled a calling card out of the pocket of her gown and pressed it into Beatrice’s palm.
“We take callers on Tuesdays.”
Chapter Five
Goodwin’s Department Store
Friday
On the first of June in the year 1879, Wes Dalton swore revenge on the Goodwin family.
My name is Wes Dalton. You stole my love and insulted my honor. I have sworn revenge.
First, Beatrice had accepted the duke’s proposal, which broke the hell out of Wes’s young heart. Because their love had felt so strong, so sure, so all-encompassing that suddenly living without it seemed as impossible as functioning without several vital organs.
Next, Estella Goodwin had offered him money to get lost, in so many words. She hadn’t wanted him around, tempting Beatrice. Heartbroken and now humiliated, Wes had done what any poor hopeless bastard would do: he’d taken the money.
Finally, Barney Goodwin—who had plucked him from obscurity and trained him personally—had fired him when he found out about the whole business. Wes had deceived him by secretly carrying on with his daughter. He had shown himself to be a fortune hunter by taking the money. As such, he was not good enough for Goodwin’s.
No, he was better.
He had proven it with the spectacular success of his own store, which was bigger, taller, newer, more stylish, more popular, and much more profitable. But that wasn’t enough. He needed to do more.