Page 25 of Fortune Favors the Viscount
The same clerk stopped her again. When she asked if she could help, he asked if she could send a tea tray. Disgruntled, she went and helped Mrs. Watson prepare one, then took Lucy for a walk in the park to distract them both.
By late afternoon, when Mr. Grantham and his clerks had been working for several hours and yet had told her nothing, curiosity and temper overwhelmed her. This time she didn’t knock, but walked right into the sitting room.
The sight that met her eyes when she opened the door made her gasp aloud. Her papers, so painstakingly organized and sorted, were now spread all over the room, not only on the tables but on the floor and even pinned up on the walls. Mr. Grantham stood in the center of the room directing a clerk who was scribbling rapidly in a book. The other clerk was on his hands and knees, sorting papers and calling out information in response to terse queries from the solicitor.
“What are you doing?” Emilia exclaimed, clutching the door.
Grantham looked up. “Creating a record, Miss Greene. Every word will have to be verified.”
“I know that. I verified them myself.” She frowned in annoyance. Why did everyone doubt her work?
He smiled patiently. “I understand. However, Mr. Dashwood charged me with doing it again, to be certain nothing was missed. Any fault in the petition can cause it to be denied.”
Yes, she knew that. She reminded herself he was only doing as Mr. Dashwood had instructed, and tamped down her temper at being told things she already knew. “How can I help?”
“It would be better if you did not,” he said. “I must do this independently. It will make the case more reliable.”
Emilia nodded, seeing that rationale. “I thought I had everything organized, but it seems not to your liking.”
He coughed. “Part of the process, madam. I don’t demean what you’ve done, but I hope you understand that I must do things my way now.”
He looked at the door in a clear hint for her to leave. She ignored it. “How will you prove everything, independently and thoroughly? I have the ledgers and registers here...”
“Those will be returned.” He gave her a stern look. “Stealing a register from a parish church is against the law, Miss Greene.”
Her face burned. “I needed proof!”
“And by taking it, some might suggest you forged the proof you cite.” He raised a brow. “The registers will be returned, and my men will collect sworn statements from the vicars and rectors involved.”
Emilia snapped her mouth closed. “Of course.” She came into the room and sank onto an empty chair, despite Mr. Grantham’s unmistakable air of dismissal. “How long will it take?”
“A fortnight, perhaps a month,” he said absently, his attention back on his clerk’s work. “Itiseasier with a trail to follow.”
“You’re welcome,” said Emilia under her breath. He shot a sharp glance at her, and she flushed again. “I suppose Mr. Dashwood can hire several investigators to travel around collecting information.”
Grantham nodded. “They left two days ago.”
She jolted. Mr. Dashwood had told her he wouldn’t proceed at all unless he believed the claim was utterly solid, with no other heir to be found. But perhaps he’d believed that all along. He might have planned this from the moment she told him he was the heir. Had he pretended reluctance because he didn’t want to help Lucy? Her hands curled into fists. Why couldn’t the Sydenham heir have been a more gentlemanly sort?
She looked at the solicitor, who was ignoring her again. She’d thought it would be a relief to hand over her research to the heir; she’d thought it would be the end of her battle to see Lucy provided for. But now it was clear that things had begun to shift out of her control, and she had the sense it was only the end of the beginning. She would have to be more vigilant than ever to protect Lucy’s interests.
As if hearing her apprehensions, Lucy pushed open the door with a creak. Her wide eyes skipped around the scene in the room.
Emilia leapt up and hurried to her. “What is it, dear?”
Lucy turned solemn eyes on her. “He’s here, Millie. Mr. Dashwood.”
She started. “Now?”
The girl nodded. “Downstairs. Waiting for you. He came in a very handsome carriage, which is waiting in the street outside. Henry told me to fetch you because he was nervous about interruptingthem.” She looked at the clerks.
“All right,” said Emilia over the sudden pounding of her heart. “We’d better go see him.” She ushered Lucy out and closed the door behind her, aware that the solicitor and his clerks were pleased to see her go. “Did he say anything?” she whispered to Lucy, hesitating at the tiny landing.
Lucy shook his head. “Only that he needed to see you.”
Emilia squared her shoulders and marched down the stairs.
He was standing with hands clasped behind his back and staring out the window. Even though it was only half past four o’clock, he wore evening dress, today with a waistcoat in shimmering blue-green silk. Emilia’s favorite shade of blue, in fact.
