Mrs. Villaret drew her full bottom lip between small white teeth as she watched the scene playing out between Andrew and the other woman. The flame from the lantern highlighted her dark hair, revealing streaks of deep red. He wished he could tell how long it was, but her hair was pulled back from her forehead and done up in braids pinned around her head. He had an overwhelming desire to take them down and run his fingers through her long tresses. The bodice of her gown rose and fell more rapidly than was normal. Which again begged the question: Was it the fear of being in the room with two unknown men, or of what Andrew would discover when he inspected the books?
Mrs. Villaret gave an imperceptible shake of her head. “Not what we expected to learn.”
“All the finances appear to be in order.” The blonde twisted her lips ruefully.
Andrew raised a brow. “And that’s a problem?”
The blonde raised a brow of her own. “Yes. It means someone is lying to Mrs. Wivenly about the company’s finances.”
“In your opinion.” Andrew’s tone was as dry as dust.
“To our certain knowledge.” Mrs. Villaret’ s chin rose, yet her voice remained low. “It is a small community. I am acquainted with the family.”
“Yes.” The blonde nodded. “We are here to help Mrs. Wivenly and her family.”
Will took three steps forward, bringing himself only inches from Mrs. Villaret. He didn’t touch her. His size and proximity would be intimidation enough. He’d discover what the devil was going on with the two women if it was the last thing he did. “Who asked you to intervene?”
“Mrs. Wivenly is very timid when it comes to commerce.” A defiant spark came into Mrs. Villaret’ s eyes, and her jaw firmed. “Someone had to help her.”
Damn if he didn’t admire her strength. Most women would have cowered or fled. “Show me.”
She remained standing as the English woman resumed her seat and slid the ledger back in front of her. “Look at this.”
Andrew leaned over her shoulder, peering down at the accounts. After a moment, he sat in the chair Mrs. Villaret had abandoned.
While the other woman and Andrew delved deeper into the books, Will decided to further his acquaintance with Mrs. Villaret. He may as well start his pursuit of her immediately. “How do you know the Wivenly family?”
She flicked a glance toward her friend, then back to him. “As I told you, it is a small community.”
He stepped forward and she retreated, attempting to put distance between them, but that wasn’t what Will wanted. The chase was on. He followed until her back hit the wall, and her eyes widened with the shock of realizing she had nowhere to go. “Who asked you to investigate?”
Beneath her dark purple gown, her breasts heaved with what he hoped was lust and not fear. Damn, he wanted her, and when she was his, she wouldn’t wear out-of-date clothing that would be better off in a rag bin. The contrast between the other female, who was obviously a lady of means, and Mrs. Villaret was striking. She was clearly much less affluent. Another problem he could remedy. All he needed to do was overcome any hesitation she might have in becoming his mistress.
“There is something missing,” Andrew said, interrupting Will’s ruminations.
“Yes,” Mrs. Villaret’s companion agreed. “What would the manager have shown Mrs. Wivenly if she’d asked for proof of the company’s decline?”
Mrs. Villaret adroitly slipped away from him. “I’ll search the other room.”
Will took a step toward her and the door. “I’ll help you.”
“Non!”She bit off the word, glaring at him for a moment, warning him away. “It will be quicker if I do it myself. I know the office.”
Had she been his uncle’s mistress? Before he could follow, Andrew called him over.
“Search the shelves for books that look like these. They should be exact duplicates, except the numbers in the columns will be lower.”
Will glanced quickly at the door to the other room. Every part of him screamed out to follow her. To have her alone with him. To know why she didn’t want him in the office with her. Hell and damnation. He’d have to wait.
Eugénie fled to her father’s office, closed the door, leaned back against the solid wood panels, and waited for her heart to slow.Mon Dieu. Occasionally other men had looked at her like Mr. Munford did, but she’d never before truly understood what the look meant. Nor had she been even remotely tempted to respond, and Papa had always been there to warn them away. Eugénie didn’t know very much about what went on between a man and a woman, but she knew enough to understand Mr. Munford was dangerous.
She could still feel the heat from his large body as he’d hovered over her. He both attracted and terrified her. What was it about him that made her heart thud in her chest and her lips want to meet his?
Even if he was interested in marriage, nothing could come of it. She’d never be allowed to make a misalliance by marrying one whose breeding was inferior to hers. After all, he was only an agent, and she was the granddaughter of a count and a viscount. Yet something about him gave her the impression marriage was not his intent, and that was far worse.
Maman, and even Marisole, had told Eugénie that her coloring was too dark, and perhaps it was time she paid more attention to her garments, or she’d not look as a lady should. Mayhap she had been allowed too much freedom from what Papa had called “the strictures of Polite Society.” Was that what fascinated Mr. Munford? It mattered not. Eugénie had to stay away from him for her own peace of mind, as well as the preservation of her virtue. She gave herself a shake. She would give her reaction to him and how to combat it more thought later. Now she needed to see what could be found in the office.
Using her hands as guides, she felt her way around Papa’s desk to the drawer where he kept the tinderbox. Giving thanks it was still there, she extracted a wood splint and lit it, in turn igniting the oil lamp. Hunting through the unlocked drawers, she found nothing. She took the keys out, fitting the smaller ones to the one locked cabinet located under the windows behind the desk. Finally, it slid open. A journal stood next to a half-filled bottle of brandy. She withdrew the diary, took it to the desk, and opened it to the first page.
