Her Wicked Ways (32 page)

Mrs. Gates twisted her hands in her lap. “Yes, though I’m worried about the money from last night. We hadn’t completed the accounting when I left, but there ought to be more money. Lord Norris should have paid half what you have in that box for the tapestries alone.”

Fox leaned back in his chair. Precisely as he’d suspected. Either Norris hadn’t paid—the louse—or Stratham had taken some for himself. Of all the things Fox regretted about last night, not being there to oversee the accounting was at the top of his list.

Rob came in and handed a book to Fox. His brows gathered over his eyes, creating a rather dire expression. “Here’s the accounting. You’re not going to like it.”

Fox flipped open the ledger and found the page he sought. He perused the entries and frowned. “Everything here is checked off except the tapestries. Does that mean everyone paid except Norris?” He handed the book to Mrs. Gates.

She studied the numbers and nodded. “He hadn’t paid when I left, and it looks as if Mrs. Knott continued my technique of noting the payments.”

Rob stood next to the desk. “Mrs. Knott said Norris didn’t pay. She considered asking him to do so, but didn’t know how to approach him.” He shot Fox an anxious glance. “We thought you were going to be there.”

Fox clenched his hands together and swallowed his frustration. Damn Miranda and her recklessness. “I meant to be there, but there was a…problem. I apologize for leaving Mrs. Knott in a terrible position.” Of course someone like her couldn’t address a pompous, self-absorbed criminal like the Earl of Norris. Fox ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you, Mrs. Gates. We’ll handle it from here.”

Mrs. Gates replaced the open ledger on the desk in front of Fox. “I’m so sorry, Fox. I shouldn’t have left with Lisette.”

“No, you wouldn’t have been able to get the money out of Norris, either.” Fox was the one who shouldn’t have left.

Mrs. Gates exited, closing the door behind her. Rob leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you mean to do?”

Fox rested his forehead on his palm and stared down at the accounting book. Why did everything have to be so goddamned difficult? “Go to Cosgrove and get the money.”

“You think he’ll give it freely? After he didn’t pay you last year?”

Fox dropped his hand and looked up at Rob. “I’m hoping, perhaps foolishly, since he actually took possession of these tapestries, he’ll pay for them.”

Rob arched a brow. “And if he doesn’t?”

“You’ve seen the damage to the hall, Rob. You and I can’t fix this. We need to hire a carpenter. Plus, we need to repair the interior now as well.” He slammed the ledger shut and shoved it to the edge of the desk. “We never seem to get anywhere!”

Rob stood straight. “I’ll take care of contacting some folks about the repairs. You’ve got enough blunt to move forward on that at least, right?”

Fox glowered at the far wall, his hands fisted on the arms of his chair. “Move forward, yes. Complete it? Not bloody likely.” Never mind the other thousand things he needed to do with the money Norris hadn’t paid them.

“You’re in a right dither over this, Fox. Something else eating at you?”

Fox stared up at his steward. “The potential ruin of this orphanage, not to mention my tenants, my servants—hell,
me
—that’s not enough?”

Color rose up Rob’s neck. “Aye, it’s plenty. I’ve just never seen you quite so worked up.”

Fox pushed out of his chair, crashing it into the wall behind him. “I’m for Cosgrove to bleed that prick of what he owes us.”

Rob stepped aside as Fox strode to the door. “I’d wish you luck, but I don’t think it’ll matter.”

Frustratingly, Rob was probably right.

A half hour later, Fox stood in a large sitting room at Cosgrove decorated in the Chinese style. Colorful vases from the Far East adorned every available tabletop. Two swords marked with Chinese characters crossed each other over the fireplace. Rich tapestries embroidered with black-haired, almond-eyed people decorated two walls.

Before he could further catalogue the richness of the antiquities, Norris ambled into the room. His lavender waistcoat nearly screamed with the effort to encase the man’s massive gut. He seemed more corpulent every time Fox saw him.

“Good afternoon, Fox. Twice in two days. I haven’t seen you this much in the past half-year.” Norris dropped himself into a gold chair, eliciting a creak from the aggrieved piece of furniture.

Fox sat on a sky blue settee opposite Norris. He’d do best not to put the bounder on the defensive from the beginning. “I wanted to thank you for your support at the benefit. You’ve no idea what your generosity means to the orphans. Or to me personally.” The last words were uttered at great cost. Fox would rather have choked on them.

Norris waved at the maid who entered with a tea tray. She placed it on a low table in front of the earl. He gave her a brief glance. “You’ll need to pour.”

Fox didn’t think the instruction necessary. Norris likely couldn’t lean forward to put on his own shoes.

The maid poured out and handed Norris a cup. He winked up at her, and Fox felt a moment’s revulsion on the poor woman’s behalf.

Norris sipped his tea. “Very kind of you to pay a personal visit.”

Fox took a drink of his own tea, mostly to school his emotions. He needed to tread carefully. “I also came to collect the payment for the tapestries you purchased. They’re lovely specimens, and I’m certain you’ve already decided where to display them.”

Norris tipped his head to the side. “Indeed I have. But I assure you I already paid for them. Cost me a pretty penny too.”

Fox clenched the saucer in his hand and then put the delicate piece on the table lest he shatter it. “Perhaps there has been a mistake. Did you pay for it yourself? Neither Mrs. Gates nor Mrs. Knott recalls you paying for them. Yet you took them with you last night, did you not?”

“I certainly did. Couldn’t wait to get them home. But do not forget yourself, Fox. They’ve been paid for.” Norris’s fish-shaped eyes hardened into coal. He chuckled then. “Surely you wouldn’t rely on the word of a headmistress at an orphanage and the wife of a common steward over my own?”

He found the man’s arrogance infuriating. But what could Fox do? If he said Norris hadn’t paid for them, the earl would say he did. And unfortunately he was right: an earl trumped any woman, especially those as low-born as Mrs. Gates and Mrs. Knott.

Fox willed himself to smile. “Where do you plan to hang the tapestries?”

“They’re being hung right now. I’ll show you, if you like.” He beamed as he lumbered to his feet, the jowls of his cheeks shimmying with his movement.

“Lead the way.” Fox trailed the earl from the room, mentally noting everything he saw. Unlike Stratham Hall, Cosgrove was well organized and Fox easily committed its layout to memory.

Norris slowed, his breathing labored. “I get a bit winded now and again. They’re just up here, past my office.”

Fox nodded, a small smile playing about his lips. He didn’t give a fig where he stuck the damned tapestries, only where the son-of-a-bitch kept his money and his records.

TODAY’S luncheon of mutton and boiled potatoes sat like lead in Miranda’s belly. Her anxiety was less about the food and more the horror of finding the roof had fallen in. And seeing Fox after last night’s argument—not to mention their tryst in the closet. She tried to focus on her embroidery, but even in the best of circumstances, her skills were lacking. Laughable, really, that she meant to “teach” the girls something at which she enjoyed so little facility.

The dreary weather only compounded her glum mood, but at least it had provided a reason for her to stay. With the heavy rain, she’d easily convinced Jasper they should postpone their return journey to Wokingham.

Rain streaked along the windows of the library at Stipple’s End and the gray sky required them to work their needles by candlelight. She glanced over at Flora who methodically plunged her needle into the linen, creating a beautiful cross pattern. The girl seemed remarkably calm and comfortable after last night’s near-disaster.

Jasper strolled into the library. Miranda promptly stuck her needle into her finger. Tossing the square of linen into the basket at her feet, she gave up the pretense of embroidery altogether. “Good afternoon, Jasper.” To a one, the girls arrested and stared at her handsome brother. “Jasper, these are my girls. Girls, this is my brother, Lord Saxton.”

He bowed to the room at large and offered a hearty grin. “So this is how my sister spends her days? How fortunate for all of you to have the wealth of her knowledge.” He stepped toward the closest girl—Delia—and peered down at her needlework. “Although, I can already see your embroidery skills have surpassed Miranda’s.”

Miranda stood. “Yes, every single one of them is better than I.”

“Have you taught them how to paint? Or did you decide not to even bother?” He glanced around at his captivated audience. “As bad as she is with a needle, she’s even worse with a paintbrush.”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “Do you see what I have to put up with in London? Perhaps I’ll just stay here in Wootton Bassett.”

Lisette dropped her needle. “Really?” She turned to Delia. “I told you she’d stay!”

Delia frowned. “Don’t be silly. People like Lady Miranda don’t live in places like Wootton Bassett. Perhaps Lord Saxton has come to fetch her home.”

Jasper arched a brow at his sister. “Actually, I have come to fetch her home—to Birch House, that is. We’ll be leaving as soon as this rain lets up.”

Miranda gave her brother a sharp glare. She hadn’t told the girls when she would be going. Lisette still looked at her with wide, sad eyes. Unable to bear her scrutiny another moment, Miranda turned her back and whispered to Jasper, “What are you really doing here?”

He leaned in and adopted a hushed tone. “Why so suspicious? I wanted to see you at work. I admit I’m a bit shocked. This place is a shambles. How long has the roof been caved in?”

“It just happened last night, but it’s been leaking intermittently all summer.”

“And it hasn’t been repaired before now?” Jasper shook his head.

Miranda bristled. “Fox and everyone else work very hard to keep Stipple’s End in order. It’s been a difficult year with the weather. And the harvest is devastatingly poor. We planned the benefit in order to raise money to fix the roof.”

“Well, I hope you made a lot of money. That looks to be an expensive repair.” He straightened. “Are you ready to leave now or do you need to botch some more of whatever you were working on?” He finished with a light-hearted wink, but his cavalier attitude irritated her.

She glanced at the clock. Their lesson had ended anyway. “Girls, this concludes our time today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She had every intention of remaining in Wootton Bassett for Lord Norris’s party, and if the rain didn’t continue, she’d simply convince Jasper she needed to spend more time with Lord Septon. Surely their parents wouldn’t fault her for that.

Taking Jasper by the arm, she dragged him toward the door. He bowed to the orphans before following her into the corridor. Frigid air greeted them and wrapped its icy tendrils around her bare fingers and neck.

She went to retrieve her bonnet and spencer from the hall, but remembered she’d left them in the dining room in order to keep them out of the cold of the great hall. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Leaving the dining room, she stopped short when Fox intersected her path. He looked completely different today, garbed once more in his work-aged clothing, his brown hair slightly tousled. Nevertheless, Miranda found him as attractive as he’d been the night before. Perhaps more so, which made no sense to her.

He studied her from head to boot, seeming to assess her appearance just as she’d done to him. “You’re still here. I thought your lesson concluded.”

“It is. I’m just leaving.” Neither of them moved. “I’m sorry about the roof. It’s fortunate we had the benefit last night. Will you be able to fix it soon?”

He flinched. Had she said something wrong? She probably shouldn’t have asked about the repair. She knew he did his best to keep things together, but he couldn’t mask his sensitivity about Stipple’s End. Maybe he’d spent an awful night like she had. Had he recalled their interlude at the brothel, their argument afterward?

She smiled even though her mind and body threatened to split in two. “I’m sure you’ll have everything back to normal very quickly. They’re lucky to have you.” She searched his half-turned face for any hint of emotion.

“You should go.” His voice sounded deep, dark, as if he’d swallowed gravel.

Her heart clenched and she grabbed his hand though her brain screamed for her not to. “Fox, I’m so sorry about last night. If I could change things—”

He clasped her fingers in a fierce grip and pierced her with a furious glare. “You can’t. Thanks to you and your recklessness, we didn’t collect Norris’s payment and now we’re short.”

Miranda gasped. “What happened?”

His lip curled, showing her a Fox she’d never seen before. “I wasn’t there to oversee the accounting and now Norris claims he paid, though Mrs. Knott assures me he did not. It’s his word against hers.”

Her knees felt weak as dread curled through her body. “It’s all my fault—”