The Luck of the Bride (The Cavensham Heiresses #3)(51)
“I found a couple of mistakes that I corrected. Mrs. Brown had an additional two pounds credited to her account that should have been assigned to Mrs. Havers’ account.” March pointed to Mrs. Brown’s column and Mrs. Havers’ column where she’d found the mistake. “Miss Marshall’s account shows she has ten pounds, but she’s overdrawn. Someone should probably tell the poor lady.”
Emma scrutinized March’s work with lines across her delicate brow. “I can’t believe it took you less than an hour to have accomplished what would have taken me all afternoon.” She gazed at March. “Would you be willing to do this every time you’re here?”
Her chest swelled with pride. It pleased her to no end that she could help her friend make the bank more successful. With accurate books, Emma would know exactly her reserve funds and how much she’d loaned in total every week, every month, and every year.
“Emma, by the looks of things, you have an additional fifty pounds in reserves that hadn’t been recorded correctly. If you’d like, I could spend a day and review the books from the very beginning and catch the discrepancies, if there are any.”
“This is brilliant,” Emma declared. “If you could do that, then I could deliver this baby without any distractions except Somerton. I was going to ask my father if his auditor could look at the books. I’ve been concerned the figures weren’t correct.” She gracefully stood. “Now, let’s settle on payment, shall we?”
A flush of heat bludgeoned her cheeks. It was one thing to barter for her services, but another to be paid wages. “I can’t take your money. I want to help.”
“Nonsense,” Daphne added.
March turned to her. “May I ask if you receive payment for your services?”
Daphne’s brows drew together as she considered the question. “No. I’m family. Well, practically family,” she clarified. “Since Alex is married to Claire.”
“I wouldn’t feel right if I accepted money from you. Not after everything you and your family have done for mine.” March smiled and hoped that it would convince her friend to drop the subject.
Emma cocked her head and stared out the window, completely lost in thought for a second. “You’d be family too if you married—”
“It’s growing late. I should return to Langham Hall.” March gathered her things. It had been beyond the pale to interrupt her friend, but such nonsense would taint yesterday’s wonderful evening. It was her fondest memory, and she wanted it to stay as pure as a newly fallen snow. “The duchess thought Faith and Julia might have some visitors today.”
Emma walked to the vault and pulled out a navy velvet bag. She returned to March’s side and gently took her hand before placing the bag in her outstretched palm. “Here’s your payment. The loan I made three months ago is forgiven.”
“That’s too much for the little work I did,” March protested.
Emma arched one delicate blond brow. “You’ll have to do my books for as long as you’re in London.” A hint of steel reinforced her normal dulcet voice. “Agreed?”
March felt the familiar weight in the palm of her hand. To have the contents in her possession again was a sign she’d turned the tide in her quest to protect her family. Now, their lives were under their control again.
Daphne had joined them by the vault. “May I see what’s in the bag? Emma’s described them to me before, but I’ve never seen them in person.”
She gently upended the bag. Two earrings fell into her palm.
Emma’s breath caught. “I forgot how beautiful they are.”
Daphne’s eyes grew round. “Those are the largest sapphires I’ve ever seen in my life.”
A hint of tears clouded the outline of the earrings. Even though it was unladylike, March sniffed. The effort made her errant tears subside. “They were my mother’s.”
Daphne peered closer. “The pearls surrounding them appear pink in color.”
“They are,” she answered. “My father had them made for my mother when I was born. He said the sapphires matched my mother’s eyes while the tiny pearls matched my complexion.”
“There’s only one thing to do,” Emma announced. “We must go shopping for a dress that will set off these earrings.”
Daphne’s eyes widened. “Emma! You hate to shop.”
“Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. We all suffer for the greater good. And whatever else generals say before leading the infantry into war.” Emma waved her hand as if dismissing the whole affair. “I want my brother to be spellbound when he sees you in those earrings.”
“That’s very kind.” March cleared her throat. “But I don’t want to waste my money on another gown.”
“Nonsense, March,” Emma commanded. “My brother will pay for it. Tell me, when is your next ball?”
Chapter Thirteen
All the way back to Langham Hall, March considered the shopping excursion with Emma and Daphne tomorrow as they hunted for the perfect gown to match her mother’s earrings. Her thoughts drifted to Michael as they usually did whenever she had a free moment. She wondered what his favorite color was. What other types of fabric did he like to caress with his hands? Last night, he stroked and petted her as if he couldn’t resist the feel of the soft velvet beneath his fingers.