The Luck of the Bride (The Cavensham Heiresses #3)(83)
“Even though he’s skeptical and quite annoying at times, I’m finding he’s one of my favorite people in your family.” She reached out and brushed away an errant lock of hair that had fallen onto his brow. “But if you ever tell him such, I’ll deny it.”
The simple touch caused something to melt inside of him, a piece he’d kept frozen deep inside, one he believed he’d never share with anyone.
He bit his lip as he fought to find the right words. As an honorable man, he had to ask if she still wanted to marry him. What a lark that was. How honorable had he been last night? He’d taken her virginity, thus leaving her stranded with him. He’d never let her go now. She was his completely.
“I should have confessed before I made love to you.” Holding her gaze, he waited for the disgust to cross her beautiful face. “I’m afraid you don’t have any choice now. You’ll have to marry me.”
March shook her head and bit her lower lip. “Have I ever told you how crazed you make me sometimes?” She pressed her hands against his cheeks. “You glorious foolish man. I love you. This changes nothing for me. I want to marry you.”
Her dark copper eyes never looked away from his as she waited. She’d just confessed her love, and he stared, unable to repeat them back. What was wrong with him? She meant more to him than words could even express. He’d never shared so much of himself with another person, not even the members of his own family, yet he couldn’t say those three words back to her.
“I didn’t say that so you’d repeat it in return.” She brushed her lips against his, then regarded him. “Thank you for sharing so much of yourself with me.”
He blinked, not knowing what to say. She was all things lovely and beautiful. His instincts had been spot-on. “You’ll make a marvelous marchioness. Someday, you’ll make a devastating duchess.”
“I hope in the distant future. I owe your parents so much.” She released a ragged sigh. “May I tell you what I discovered in your account books and investment records?”
“With what I’ve just shared, you’ll have to go slow.”
She nodded briskly. “Every book and record has been meticulously managed except for one.”
“It’s my practice account,” he interrupted. “I try to improve my skills with the household account book. There are two. One for me and one for the housekeeper. It’s the simplest account to try to balance.”
Her brilliant smile broke through her pursed lips. “Your threes look like reversed E’s and your fours look like upside-down h’s. Your handwriting is distinctive. That’s how I learned…”
“That I’m an id—”
“Please, don’t. I’ll not listen.” March attempted to get off his lap, but he was faster and grabbed her hips.
He secured her to his lap once again. “Please, go on, sweetheart.”
“After I finished with your account, I started on the others. I’ve been through every one.”
“Every one?” He drew his brows together. She couldn’t have accomplished that. It took William two days to review every account and investment attached to McCalpin Manor and McCalpin House. Many of them were complicated investment portfolios tied to the Langham Duchy.
She tilted her head in challenge. “Every single one.”
It was a pleasure to surrender to her. She could teach him things about managing an estate and, in return, he could teach her all the things they could do in bed.
And out of it.
Completely oblivious to his thoughts, she continued, “Someone has deliberately understated the returns on your personal investments. When you compare Lord Somerton’s correspondence on investment returns, they aren’t the same numbers in the accounting books. In addition, the estate books have entries for expenditures that have either been increased by adding a zero or marked out completely with an increased amount written above.”
Keenly interested in understanding her explanation, he nodded for her to proceed.
“For instance, last month, you acquired a draught horse. The expenditure was initially marked as twenty-five pounds, then a zero was added. Two sheep were purchased for seventy-two pence. The amount was crossed out and seven pounds, two pence replaced it. No one would likely notice these changes on a daily basis, but if you look at it over the last several months, there’s a pattern.”
He exhaled his frustration. Not just at the numbers floating in the air, but more importantly, someone was stealing from him, and he’d had no idea. He never checked the books himself. Even William didn’t catch the errors.
“Plus, the entries in your household account don’t match the housekeeper’s account. Someone has manipulated the numbers there too.” She narrowed her eyes. “Thank heavens you had the foresight to maintain another book. Otherwise, I’m not certain anyone would have caught the modifications. By my calculations, there’s at least a five-thousand-pound discrepancy.”
She walked to his desk, then returned with one of the account books. She opened it to a marked page and pointed at one account entry. “See the sevens and ones? They’re distinctive. Dashes or serifs slash the middle of the sevens. The ones have serifs at the top. Whoever is manipulating the books has a unique writing style.”
Even he could understand what she was stating, but it was difficult to believe someone would deliberately try to steal from him.