The Lady Always Wins by Courtney Milan Page B

Fortas. Simon stood, but Mr. Teller didn’t look for him. Instead, he turned back into the room, speaking to someone Simon couldn’t quite see. It didn’t make sense; he’d supposed that Ridgeway would already have transferred his shares. If he had, who was that in Teller’s office?
    “I’ll get the gentlemen, then?” he heard Teller ask. Fortas went back into the room.
    An indistinct response came in reply, and then Teller turned and motioned to the two men. Simon stood and walked toward him, all the more confused. He was scarcely aware of Ridgeway following behind him.
    When he turned into the room, his whirling confusion came to a standstill. All emotion seemed to wash from him, leaving him a vessel empty of everything except stunned surprise.
    “This,” Mr. Teller was saying, “is Mr. Bagswin, and his client, Mrs. Croswell. Mrs. Croswell, Mr. Bagswin—these are the other main shareholders of Long Northern, Mr. Davenant and Mr. Ridgeway.”
    Simon swallowed. “Ginny,” he said. “I mean—Mrs. Croswell. What the devil are you doing here?”
    The secretary frowned at his language.
    But a small, sad smile played across Ginny’s lips. She looked down and examined her gloves. She seemed quite proper at the moment: respectable, and altogether demure. That, more than anything, convinced him that something was afoot.
    “Well.” She brushed some unseen piece of dirt from her gloves and raised her eyes to his. “As you know, Mr. Davenant, I am newly widowed. Having liquidated most of the assets left to me by my husband, and then some—”
    He made a choking sound.
    “I
did
tell you of that,” she said innocently. “In fact, you remarked on it yourself. Well, never mind. Having liquidated the assets left by my husband, it seemed prudent to invest. I have always had an interest in railways. And so my solicitor, Mr. Bagswin—”
    “
Your
solicitor,” Simon repeated stupidly.
    “
My
solicitor,” she repeated, “purchased one hundred and thirteen shares of the Long Northern Railway on my behalf.”
    “Oh, you little minx,” he said, startled. “
You
bought my company?”
    “Come, Mr. Davenant. You cannot be angry with me. I did tell you when you arrived at my house that you were already checkmated. It is not my fault that you didn’t believe me.”
    Angry? It wasn’t anger that made his hands shake. He was just beginning to be able to think, to understand what this all meant. Ridgeway hadn’t wrested control of his company from him. She’d bought enough shares to prevent his ever obtaining a majority. Simon wasn’t ruined.
    And that made no sense. “Those shares were purchased before I went to Chester-on-Woolsey. How—why—”
    “It was really quite simple.” She looked away from him. “I told you I was still a Barrett—given to mad, foolish financial gestures. I’ve been following your company quite closely. I knew what Mr. Ridgeway was doing. I have a horror of poverty.” She raised her eyes, dark and liquid, to his. “How, then, could I see you in it?”
    It took him a moment to comprehend what she had said. Without hope of return, she had sold everything she had to keep him safe. He found himself blinking furiously. Dust. There was too much dust in this damned office.
    He crossed the room, ignoring her solicitor and his secretary, and knelt before her.
    “You ridiculous creature,” he said. “You—you—”
    Her hand ruffled his hair. “The word you are looking for is ‘darling,’” she supplied.
    “Yes, that.” He took her hands in his and clasped them hard. He was almost afraid to look up, scared that if he did, he would discover it all to be a lie. He pressed his lips to her palm. “And this one,” he whispered into her fingers. “Sweetest.”
    He was dimly aware of her solicitor, gathering everyone up and herding them outside. The door closed and they were alone.
    “I’m not certain you deserve it,” Ginny said.
    “I’m certain I don’t.”
    She smiled at that,