Jane’s disappointment was nothing short of a curse. She’d been the first person to hold Stephen accountable without respect to his disabilities. He’d never thanked her for that and wasn’t sure he ever would, because how could words convey gratitude that surpassed all understanding?

“What do we know about Mrs. Hatfield, Quinn? Who are her people? She never has callers, but she goes out every other week or so and doesn’t return with any packages. She sometimes departs with a package or two, or with a particularly bulky reticule. I assume she’s paying social calls.”

“Stephen, leave it alone. Design something clever. Translate more Catullus. Devise a new cannon for the Army that actually hits what it’s aimed at. Nobody appreciates a meddler.”

The steak was overcooked. Stephen couldn’t ignore that any more than Quinn could chase the last of the Yorkshire growl from his speech.

“Catullus is for naughty boys. Have you ever wondered why Eleanora isn’t married?” Stephen had, and not simply because she was comely. Eleanora Hatfield would keep a man on his toes.

“Some women prefer independence to the married state, particularly when contemplating the perils of childbearing. She has the lot of us at the bank for company, and I believe some family accompanied her when she moved south. Cousins, siblings, I’m not sure which, and it’s none of my business.”

Meaning Quinn carried some secret or suspicion he wasn’t willing to share with his only brother.

“Quinn, for pity’s sake, think. Mrs. Hatfield goes about her duties at the bank, setting a sterling example of integrity and devotion to duty. She’s not one of the clerks or tellers, and she prefers it that way. She never puts a foot wrong, and now she’s rescuing Elsmore from potential scandal. Have you considered that he might steal her away from us?”

Quinn split his baked potato open and forked three pats of butter into the steaming middle. Eating like this—from most expensive item to least costly—was an artifact of poverty. Stephen made it a point to do otherwise.

“Elsmore is honorable. He won’t poach.”

“Elsmore is single, wealthy, spending substantial time alone with our Eleanora, and seeing firsthand what a treasure she is. I don’t mean steal exclusively in the business sense.” Though losing her as an auditor would be a blow.

“You mean steal, as in steal her heart?”

The Quinn of old would have found that notion laughable, but then Jane had stolen his heart. Stephen was quite willing to be victimized by similar larceny where his own organ of sensibility was concerned, but apparently no lady was sufficiently interested—or courageous—to attempt the theft.

“I mean precisely that,” Stephen said. “Eleanora’s wages are generous, but Elsmore can set her up for life.”