“No, and I’m sorry for that, because the two of you really did seem to . . .” He toed the fringe on the edge of the floor covering before lifting his gaze, perplexity in his eyes. “But if you can’t marry him, why not marry me? I would be advantageous for you. Just let me at the company. I could help it, secure it, and protect your interest in it. And I can and will handle the Berab brothers. I’m very observant. And resourceful. And I do not give up easily.”
“I’ve definitely noticed.” She stepped toward him. “Which is why I have another sort of proposal for you.”
“Pardon?” He squinted at her, his entire face scrunching.
“How would you like to assist me in running the Lira portion of the company?” she asked.
“As . . .” Weiss shook his head, confusion in his tone.
“As an employee at first, but with a chance to be a partner, gain an ownership interest from our share, provided we acted as a team and voted as a block, in most circumstances.” She clasped her hands together, already outlining the details in her mind, the details that would allow her to continue to rule without a husband. “Though obviously, I’d be giving up some control and taking a calculated risk. Trust someone I wouldn’t dominate and hope for the best in the future.”
“That’s quite the sacrifice on your part.” He cocked his head. “So what would remain for your children would be both what your father built and something new?”
“If there are any children.” She shrugged, though she couldn’t imagine it, not without Aaron. She raised a finger. “If not, for whoever comes along and can use it best, for good. Regardless, it would be something new. Three families. With you acting not only as my protection, but as peacemaker. Managing the relationship with the Berabs, perhaps mending it or, ideally, making it into something new, something better for the present in which we find ourselves. Moving forward, so we reflect the full community—invited by Cromwell or not. Remembering that while we might want rights, we don’t want to gain them by denigrating each other. A good leader is mindful of the past but reaches for a better future, even if they might not get to see it.” They were a new generation, with their own challenges to meet and vision to create. “You’ll be free to use the funds and the position to help your brother. If you need my assistance with that, I will always be there to help. As a friend.”
Weiss opened his mouth and closed it and opened it again. “You’d offer me that?”
“I don’t see why not.” After all, it truly was the best of all possible worlds. “As we’ve clearly established, I could use a fresh perspective in the surety company and in general. You’re rather intelligent, and if we can align our interests, write a proper contract, we could each accomplish what we wanted without joining ourselves in other ways.” They could win—as partners.
He tapped two fingers to his lips. “I don’t know if I should be grateful or insulted.”
“You’re a handsome man. I’m sure you’ll make someone happy.” Truly.
“Just not you?” His eyes were a bit sad as he gazed over at her.
“Just not me.” She pursed her lips, swallowing that pesky lump, because it could not and would not ruin this moment, this taking charge of their futures. She threw back her shoulders. “But as I said, I’d like to be your partner. And possibly your friend.” Isabelle offered him her gloved palm. “What do you say?”
With a broad smile, Weiss grasped it and shook. “I say, Miss Lira, you have a deal.”
“Excellent.” She clapped her hands together before glancing at the door. “We should go speak to my grandmother and Pena and our legal counsel and formalize this, back at our offices.” She paced toward the exit, Weiss in tow.
“What are you going to do about the announcement tonight?” he asked as she turned the knob.
“If only I knew.” She grimaced. Not something she was looking forward to, but she could survive. A touch of embarrassment wasn’t the worst thing now and then. Kept you humble. The heartache, though . . .
“Well . . . you know . . .” Weiss’s voice broke her thoughts. He clasped his hands together, shifting from foot to foot.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her heart beginning to speed a touch. He wasn’t having second thoughts, was he? Just when she had found a solution that should be correct as well.
He glanced from side to side before coughing into his hand. “Seeing as now we are to be friends, and friends are honest with each other . . .”
She closed her eyes. What was it now? Or more, what faux pas had he noticed that she’d somehow overlooked in her quest for power? “What is it?”
“About Mr. Ellenberg.” His swallow was visible despite his neatly tied cravat. “I know it is not my place to say, but in the event he has not yet departed for America, there’s still an opportunity for you to perhaps say things you have not, things you might regret leaving unsaid.”
And the pressure was back behind her eyes. Because there were things. So many things.
“I—I can’t.” She shook her head. “It wouldn’t be right or fair, not after I had the chance and failed.” She gazed at Weiss. “I hurt him. Very, very badly, and I had the opportunity to do better, and hurt him once more. I don’t deserve the chance to say those things.”
“Perhaps.” Her new partner nodded and threaded his arm through hers, leading her toward the front of the house. “But doesn’t he deserve to hear them? Or are you not brave enough?”
“I’m not sure I am,” she told him as the lump squeezed her throat shut with the enormity of what she’d done to the person who had done nothing but listen to her, care for her, and love her. The person who wanted only the same in return. And she’d denied him that—withheld it. Because she’d been too afraid to do what was right. “And I—that’s a battle I don’t even know how to begin to fight.”
“I certainly wouldn’t rely on your usual weapons.” Weiss indicated the folds of her dress covering her sheath before throwing back his head and laughing. “You really do need me, don’t you?” he said more than asked. “Come along—we’ll take my carriage and go to the Great Synagogue, and I can tell you why you’re wrong the entire way there.”
Isabelle bumped along through Aldgate toward Duke’s Place, gripping the seat of the Weiss carriage. The vehicle was ornate, the inside draped in gilded fabric accented with small silver mirrored jewels. Surprising, given the family’s only newly resecured financial position, though perhaps the two went hand in hand. Something she should probably discuss with her partner at some point, but not that day.
No, all she could do, all she could think of, was Aaron and how she needed to speak with him one last time. To at least apologize and let him know that what she’d done, how she’d treated him, was abominable and that he deserved so much better, so much more, and that she hoped he would find it. She closed her eyes. Because that was the right thing to tell him. The unselfish thing. And she could be unselfish.
