Page 27 of Reforming Lord Ragsdale
“I will probably spend this evening at Almack’s with my mother and cousin,” he said as they drove to Fotherby and Sons in his curricle. “I should be an occasional escort, and besides, I must contemplate this Season’s beauties.” He nudged her in the side. “Tell me, Emma, how can I pick out a smart one?”
To his delight, she laughed out loud. She had a hearty laugh, and it startled him at first, because it was something he was not used to. It was no drawing room titter, no giggle behind a fan, but a full, rich sound as genuine as it was infectious. He laughed too.
“I have it, Emma,” he said. “I will begin reciting a Pythagorean theorem and see if she can complete it.”
She laughed again. “Then a canto fromLa Divina Commedia, my lord.”
He reined his horse to a stop in front of his banking establishment. “Emma, there’s obviously more to you than meets the eye.”
He wished he had not said that. He might have slapped her, for all the gaiety left her eyes and that invisible curtain dropped between them again. She looked again like a woman devoid of all hope, the Emma of the taproom, waiting for herfuture to be decided by the turn of a card. It was a transformation as curious as her good humor only moments ago.
She said nothing more but stared straight ahead between his horse’s ears. As he watched her, she drew her cloak tighter around her, sighed, and then reached for the satchel at her feet. He took it from her.
You could talk to me, Emma, he thought as he followed her into the building and then led the way down the hall to Amos Fotherby’s office.While it is a well-documented fact that I have no love for the Irish, you interest me. And while it is also certain that there is less to me than meets the eye, that is not the truth, in your case.
Fotherby quickly recovered from his initial surprise when Lord Ragsdale introduced Emma, and the banker realized that she knew her way around a double-entry ledger. The banker’s reserve melted further when Emma pulled up her chair, pushed up her sleeves in businesslike fashion, and pulled out the bills and her list. Fotherby hardly glanced up as Lord Ragsdale backed out of the room.
“I’ll be in the vault, Emma,” he said. “Join me there when you’re done. I need an opinion.”
She nodded, as preoccupied as the banker. Lord Ragsdale smiled to himself, thanking a generous God that there were people on the earth who actually cared about assets, debits, and accountings. He watched her a moment more, wishing he had asked his mother to get Emma a deep green cloak instead of a brown one, and then sauntered down the hall to the vault.
Emma joined him there an hour later, her glorious auburn hair untidy. He noted that it was coming loose again, and he chuckled.
“Emma, do you realize that when you concentrate, you tug at your hair?”
She blushed and tucked the stray tendrils under the knot again. “Your accounts were such a mess, my lord. Some tradesmen have applied to Mr. Fotherby for payment, andwe had to go through the whole lot, so as not to pay anyone twice.”
“I trust you have me in order now?”
“Oh, yes. From now on, you give all the bills to me, and I forward them to Mr. Fotherby for payment. I cannot get power of attorney to pay your bills myself because I am a woman, Catholic, and Irish.” She ticked off the items on her fingers.
“I call that downright prejudiced,” he joked.
“Well, at least it is more misdemeanors than the law allows,” she agreed. “I am not sure which of the three is the least palatable.”
There was no regret in her voice but only that businesslike tone that gave him the distinct impression that he had cast himself into capable hands. She had a relaxed air about her, as though she had just come from a hot bath or an entertaining party.I suppose it is given to some to bask in the toils of finance, he thought. He indicated a chair.
“Be seated, Emma, and tell me which necklace I should give to Fae,” he ordered. “I thought a peace offering would be in order when you visit her.” He looked away and coughed. “A bauble might make her not suffer so much when I cut the connection.”
He held out several necklaces and placed them in her lap. She scrutinized them with the same intensity she had tackled his bills, and then picked up a simple chain with an emerald. “This one, by all means,” she said, her eyes shining with more animation than he had seen before.
As Emma held it up to catch the vault’s fitful light, he was struck by how elegant it would look around her neck. The stone winked at him as he took it from her hand and replaced it in the velvet-lined box.
“No, Emma, that one will never do. Think in terms of greed and avarice, and then choose between these three,” he said, struck by the knowledge that he was about to come to the end of five years of Fae Moullé’s demands.Greed andavarice? Now, why did I never see that before, he asked himself as Emma frowned and picked up a particularly gaudy chain with diamonds and rubies alternating.
“Excellent!” He put the rest back in the box and returned them to the teller, who hovered at his elbow. He slid the necklace into a velvet pouch and handed it to Emma. “Take this to Fae with my compliments and see if you can figure out how the deuce to get her to let go of my purse strings.” He sighed. “I know she is attached to me, but as you say, it is time to reform.”
“Very well, my lord,” Emma said. As the teller was replacing the jewels, she picked up a plain gold chain. “Is this valuable to you, Lord Ragsdale?” she asked.
“No. Do you want it, Emma?” he teased.
She shook her head, blushed, and took a deep breath. “If you were to send this to the governor at Newgate, he would make David Breedlow’s life almost pleasant.” She looked at him, as if gauging his mood. “Or you could send it to his sister. He told me her name is Mary Roney, and she lives in Market Quavers.”
He snatched the necklace from her and replaced it in the box, wondering at her nerve. “No, and that is final! You have stretched my philanthropy far enough for one day. Now, just go home and reconcile my books,” he ordered. “You can see Fae in the morning.”
She left hurriedly, as though afraid he would turn her impulsive effort into a humiliation. When she was gone, he took out the necklace again, and another one, which he handed to the teller. “Make up two packages. Address this one to the governor of Newgate and this to Mary Roney,” he said. “I will write a note for both in Fotherby’s office.”
So there, Emma, he thought.I really am a fine fellow. I only hope Fae does not repine too long over the news you bring.
