Magnate Read Free

been refused. So she had decided to do this without Will’s assistance.
    Moistening her dry lips, she charged on with the answer she’d prepared, one that was not a lie. “I do not come into possession of my trust until my twenty-fifth birthday, which leaves me with very little money to work with before then. However, even if I had the capital, I won’t be taken seriously by my clients—the male clients—until I prove that I can earn money.”
    â€œAnd I am to believe you’re competent, entrust you with my money?”
    She picked up the ledger she’d been keeping for four years, the proof that she wasn’t some silly female with unrealistic aspirations. No, in here lay her undeniable abilities in ink. “These are records of the transactions I would have made, had I been allowed.” He held out his large hand, and she slipped the volume into his grip. “I read the reports, Mr. Cavanaugh. I follow the markets. You’ll see I maintain a healthy balance in the black.”
    â€œA fictional balance,” he noted, before studying the most recent entries. “Most of these are obvious, sure bets any trader would make.” He paused. “What’s this, a short sale on Pennington? Did you truly see that price drop coming, when no one else did?”
    Not easy to keep the smugness out of her voice, but she managed it. “Over the past three years, I’ve noticed their second quarter earnings are always delayed. The Pennington stock drops ten percent like clockwork as a result.”
    â€œHow do I know you didn’t write these entries the next day, once you read the papers?”
    Heat washed over her skin, like she’d been dipped in a hot water bath. “Are you saying that I am a liar?”
    The question seemed to amuse him. His lips twitched as he handed the ledger back. “Why me?”
    She lifted a shoulder, trying to appear casual when she felt the exact opposite. “First, you have the means and the influence. Second, I know about your meetings with my brother each month, along with Calvin Cabot and Theodore Harper.” She drew in a deep breath and admitted the truth, praying she would not offend him. “And neither Mr. Cabot nor Mr. Harper would see me when I paid a call.”
    â€œWell, at least you’re honest about my being your last choice,” he said dryly.
    Cavanaugh’s reputation for ruthlessness had factored into the decision to save him for last. Legend held he’d grown up on the streets of Five Points, fought his way out of the slums to a steel mill, which he later purchased to start his empire. Unlike the other wealthy men of business, he didn’t involve himself in charitable causes and kept far removed from the social scene.
    He surprised her by rising in one fluid motion. “Follow me,” he said, and started out of the room.
    Stomach fluttering with nerves, she trailed him into the corridor and deeper into the garishly decorated house, passing the two-story entry hall with its sleek pink marble staircase and gold railing. Next came a long gallery, with paintings from Dutch and Italian masters and a carved ceiling decorated with frescoes and rimmed in gold leaf. If she weren’t so anxious, she might’ve found the surroundings impressive.
    Cavanaugh walked fast, and Lizzie had to lift the hem of her skirts in order to keep up. Not very loquacious, was he? Or polite, for that matter.
    She had no idea where he was leading her. To the safe where he kept his money? A side door, where he’d eject her from his house? For some strange reason, she wasn’t worried for her safety. He’d been patient with her, asking intelligent questions and listening to her answers. Moreover, he was her brother’s friend.
    They ended up in a large room containing a massive desk. Rows of books lined the walls and a collection of modern-day conveniences—telephone, telegraph machine, stock