She’d amused him with that clumsy change of subject.

He ladled out a portion of soup that smelled divine. “Why?”

“Because they are involved in both your commercial and domestic affairs. In the alternative, we could assess the potential dower holdings and choose the three most likely to withstand close financial scrutiny. This soup is delicious.” The base might have been potatoes, but quantities of cream, cheddar, winter vegetables, and a dash of spirits made the fare rich and savory.

Best of all, the course was served at the almost-too-hot temperature that made good soup on a cold day a taste of heaven.

Elsmore buttered a slice of bread and dipped it into his soup, yeoman fashion. “If you allowed yourself the occasional respite from your labors, you wouldn’t fall asleep in moving coaches, Eleanora.”

She ignored his use of her given name, though it pleased her all the more for being in that chiding tone. “If you paid more attention to your ledgers, you would not need to haul a busy auditor off to the countryside for the sole purpose of straightening out your books, Elsmore.”

He laughed and passed Ellie the butter. “Good God, you are as relentless as Wellington’s infantry. I like your idea about sorting the dower properties, I loathe that you are so fatigued you can sleep for nearly two hours at midday.”

Not much more than an hour, by Ellie’s reckoning. “I loathe that your dukedom is being plundered. Who among your relations works at the bank, and do you trust them?”

He dipped his bread again, and Ellie regretted the question. She could not afford to trust her family, but they were crooks, albeit crooks by necessity. They grasped that she’d crossed a divide that did not allow for her to trust them.

Elsmore’s nature was to attribute to others the same honor he expected of himself. Grandpapa, unfortunately, had had the same decent outlook on his fellow man and that had not ended well at all.

“Must we have this discussion now?” Elsmore said.

“We must have it soon. Please give some thought to who might be motivated to steal from you. Who has excessive debts, a spouse unable to control her expenditures, too many daughters to launch, an inability to refrain from wagering?”

“Half of London?”

“Elsmore, this is not charm. This is evasion. What is amiss?”

He set aside his empty soup bowl and took up the carving knife. “What if you are right?” he asked, starting on the joint of beef. “What if the domestic irregularities signal worse trouble at the bank? Scandal tarnishes a personal reputation, but for a family engaged in banking, scandal can also cause financial ruin. Generations of probity and hard work out the window like a pail of slops tossed on the midden.”

He set a slice of perfectly done beef on Ellie’s plate.