I pushed past both Daniel and Mr. Fielding and took his arm. “Rest yourself, your lordship. Shall I ring for some tea? Or a brandy?”

“No, thank you.” Lord Russell squared his shoulders, but he did plunk down on the sofa I steered him to. “Who did you say you were?”

“It is not important. Perhaps Mr. Fielding could look at the ledgers, and check what the treasurer has written. It might be as simple as a mistake—the wrong house numbers recorded.”

When I said, “Mr. Fielding,” I of course meant I wanted Daniel to look at them. However, I knew Lord Russell would be more comfortable turning the books over to a governor, and in fact, it might be his duty to give a governor whatever records he asked for.

At my glare, Mr. Fielding sent Lord Russell a curt nod. “Yes, fetch the ledgers for me, old chap.”

Lord Russell, appearing weaker by the moment, sent me an appealing look. “If you will ring, madam . . .”

I’d already moved toward the bellpull in anticipation. I gave it a hearty yank and returned to Lord Russel’s side, Daniel and I forming a protective wall around him. Mr. Fielding stood like a stone, arms folded. Prizefighters stood thus, waiting for their bouts to begin.

The footman who’d admitted us returned in a matter of seconds. Lord Russell instructed him to fetch his secretary, and the lad departed.

We heard footsteps before any of us could speak again, and a reedy man, clean-shaven but with thin sideburns, entered. He must have been one of the dinner guests on the other side of the hall, and looked surprised to see Mr. Fielding. He was Lord Russell’s secretary, apparently, and Lord Russell sent him off for the ledgers.

We waited in silence. Mr. Fielding had turned to the fireplace, obviously not happy with me or Daniel. I was relieved to see he remained far from the paperweights.

Daniel watched Lord Russell. His stance was nonchalant, but I knew Daniel well and realized Lord Russell would not leave this room without Daniel’s permission.

The secretary returned, three large books in his thin arms, staggering a little under their weight. Daniel stepped to assist him, but Mr. Fielding snatched the top ledger of the pile and spread it open on a table. “Show me.”

Lord Russell rose and went to him, turning pages with shaking hands. “There.” He pointed to a scrawl that listed the addresses Mr. Fielding and I had both investigated. “And the governors’ notes.”

A list of numbers and letters filled the rest of the page. Mr. Fielding pushed the ledger impatiently aside. “I can’t make heads or tails of this.”

“Which is why you will take them to study at your leisure,” I said. I closed the book and handed it to Daniel, who’d stood silently by.

“Oh dear,” Bishop Exley began. “We cannot allow you to—”