Miss Woodsley’s face was red, showing her to possess at least some sensibility. Lucius had begun to think she had none. She was certainly more forward than mere innocence could account for.

When he and Lady Harrowden were alone, he sat on the chair at her side, hoping he would not be called upon to explain what she had just witnessed. “I came to tell you that I found an accountant who will be discreet—a Mr. Samuel Abbott in the village—but he is not available until a week from now.”

Lucius leaned on the armrest and turned so he could see Lady Harrowden’s face. “What is an even greater advantage to this particular choice is that his father worked with your husband for a time until Mr. Abbott the elder removed to Bath for his wife’s health. After Mr. Abbott the younger’s parents both died, he moved back to Woolmer Green. The bookkeeper said he still has his father’s notes tied up in bundles, and he will ask his permission to see what information remains on Harrowden. If a copy of the accounts is still there, as he thinks it will be, Mr. Abbott will be able to examine what percentage of your widow’s portion is being used to cover estate expenses.”

He added, “You might be interested to know that your nephew’s accountant is not highly regarded by his peers. Even the bookkeeper who met with me yesterday was able to tell me that.”

Lady Harrowden nodded as if she expected such a thing. “Abbott. I know the name. He worked for my husband before my nephew threw him off in favor of Mr. Chancey, saying the man came highly recommended. That may very well be true, but it is only since he took over the estate’s accounts that there seems to be very little from my income to cover my own expenses. It is a shame Mr. Abbott cannot have access to all of Harrowden’s accounts like he once did.”

Lucius was only waiting for the word, and Lady Harrowden gave it decisively. “Very well. Bring him to me as soon as you may.” She eyed him with displeasure, and he knew what was coming next. “And now perhaps you can tell me what designs you have on my ward.”

“To keep her at arm’s length,” Lucius responded, leaning back in his seat again and crossing his legs.

“So her thirty thousand pounds is not attractive enough for you?” Lady Harrowden gave him a disbelieving look.

“No,” he answered baldly. “I have enough for my own means and would not sell myself as cheaply as that.” Belatedly, he realized how it must reflect on her ward, and added, “I beg your pardon, but I must not give it to you wrapped in clean linen.”

Lady Harrowden kept an eagle eye on him. “I saw you growing cozy in the inn with Miss Lockhart. Perhaps it is she who captures your fancy for a future wife.”

“I have no aims for matrimony at present,” Lucius returned, “and I do not propose to invite you into my confidence when I do.” He stood, anxious to be gone. “I will send a note when Mr. Abbott might be spared to come and discuss your accounts.”