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“I also brought a flower arrangement,” he said. “It’s in the entrance hall. I deeply regret the loss of your housekeeper, especially as it happened on an evening I’d already made difficult for you.”
“All’s forgiven,” she said simply.
“I haven’t forgiven myself.”
Behind them, John had been efficiently clearing the dishes and stacking them on a tray. As the conversation reached a natural pause, he came to the periphery of Reina’s vision, in case she wanted something before he left the room.
William didn’t seem to notice John waiting nearby. He continued speaking with the obliviousness of someone who had been accustomed to the presence of servants for his entire life.
“This is an ambitious undertaking. No one’s ever founded an all-women’s bank. I don’t want our endeavor to fail, for many reasons. Not the least of which is, failure would be hard on my pride.”
“You’ve never failed at anything,” Reina said, smiling at him. Before he could reply, she glanced at John. “Two glasses of wine, Pembroke.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
Reina turned back to William. “Pardon the interruption. I’m sure you’ll want to continue apologizing.”
“I will?”
Her lips quirked. “Yes, you will.”
It was their old comfortable pattern. She’d always treated him with an impudence no one else would have dared.
“I’m afraid an excess of caution led me to be inflexible during our negotiations,” William said. “I’m truly sorry. Your accomplishments have earned far more respect and consideration than that.” He paused. “It’s a change in our relationship. It seems I’ll have to adjust to becoming less of a mentor and more of a partner.”
“Are you offering to renegotiate the partnership agreement?” she asked.
“May we make a fresh start, when you’re ready?”
“I would love that—as long as you think the outcome will be different.”
“It will. Although some of my concerns remain.”
“What concerns?”
“This bank will be an all-consuming endeavor. If you take on the full weight of responsibility, there won’t be any time left for the things a young woman should be doing.”
Reina was privately amused, knowing their respective ideas of what a young woman should be doing were probably quite different. “I’m fully aware of what it will require.”
William contemplated her, his eyes the blue of an unclouded sky. “I’ve lived long enough to have developed a broad perspective when it comes to these decisions. May I ask you something—not as a business partner but a friend?”
“Of course.”
“Have you fully considered the consequences of sacrificing these years? These years in particular?” Seeing her perplexity, he said, “Marriage. Children. A traditional life.”
John approached with a small tray of wine, and they each took a glass. Reina was careful not to meet his gaze, feeling a strange discomfort in having such a personal conversation in front of him, while at the same time excluding him. John couldn’t be partitioned off in some remote corner of her life. She couldn’t ignore their connection; she felt its quiet presence everywhere.
Reina forced her attention back to William. “I’ve never had any illusion that a traditional life would be possible for me. However, it seems the experience of motherhood isn’t going to pass me by.”
William’s face went blank.
She went on to tell him about having decided to raise Tuppence’s baby, and then patiently answered a volley of questions as he tried to understand her reasoning.
“You could find someone to take him in,” William pointed out. “Especially if you provide them with financial assistance. Or raise him as a household dependent, but keep him in the servant class, where he belongs.”
“Why does he belong there?” Reina asked gently.
William let out a measured sigh. “You’ve always pushed me to think outside conventional limits, and I’m a better man for it. But the boy’s life has already been decided for him. He’s the child of woman who was sent to prison.”
