Eighth of May 1816—The Widow Wivenly bade me keep the company going. She is still in sad shape after the death of her husband. I fear there will be no chance of advancement for me here. I shall attempt to convince her to sell.
Maman had become so distraught at Mr. Howden’s suggestion she sell the company that she’d taken to her bed for over a week. Eugénie skipped ahead a couple of weeks to when the first of the bad news came.
Twentieth of May 1816—Mr. S, a merchant of some means, approached me concerning purchasing Wivenly Imports. When I explained Widow Wivenly would refuse to sell, he suggested I inform her the company was failing. He also said that he was expanding his concerns and was in need of an intelligent man of business, intimating the position was mine if I could assist him in buying the company.
Eugénie’s hands trembled in rage. How could Mr. Howden even consider such a thing? Papa had always treated him well, and the family needed him. Flipping to August, she found the first entry.
First of August 1816—Met with Mr. S today. He is extremely anxious to make his offer to Widow Wivenly. I explained that nothing can be done until she is out of mourning. He expressed concern that Mr. Wivenly’s family might involve themselves well before then. However, on this point I was able to reassure him. No one in the family appeared to care. In fact, when the son went to England, only Mr. Wivenly’s widowed mother was willing to take the boy in before he begins his term at Eton.
Eugénie frowned. That was not precisely true. Grandmamma wanted Eugénie’s brother, Benet, to spend the summer with her before he started his first term at school, but the earl had offered as well. More importantly, Howden must think her family was alone in the world. Apparently he did not know the Earl of Watford was a trustee. Her mother had asked that the reports on the business be sent to him. How was it possible Howden had not made the connection? Her pulse raced with anger. How dare he attempt to take advantage of Maman?Fripouille!
She closed the diary. After placing everything else back where it belonged, she extinguished the light, then opened one of the windows and its shutter for a moment to allow the smell of burning oil to lessen.
The moon hung in the night sky, surrounded by thousands of stars casting a path over the water, where ships’ lights bobbed, adding to the illumination. One day she would most likely be forced to leave. Would the next place she lived be as lovely?
“It’s captivating,” a deep voice said softly.
Eugénie’s hand flew to her chest as her heart jumped into her throat. “Mr. Munford, you should not sneak up on a person.”
His breath fluttered over the back of her neck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Scare her half to death, more like, and now her body wanted to lean back against him. She held herself rigid. It would not do to let him know how he affected her. “I was not afraid, merely startled.”
“You’ve been in here for a long time.” His voice was low, almost mesmerizing, as if it called to her, wanting to capture her somehow.
One of his fingers traced the line of her shoulder, lighting fires along her skin that she didn’t know how to extinguish—or whether she wanted to.
What was he doing to her? This was madness. Eugénie struggled to think of anything to say. “I found Mr. Howden’s diary.”
“Diary?” He dropped his hand, leaving her somehow bereft. “Is it interesting?”
She turned to face him.“Oui.”
Mr. Munford’s presence was almost too much to bear. It made her want to dothingsshe didn’t even understand. Skirting around the man, Eugénie grabbed the book and strode quickly to the other room.
When she reached the desk, Cicely and Mr. Grayson were still poring over ledgers. “I found Mr. Howden’s personal journal. It explains in great detail what he is doing.”
Mr. Grayson took the diary, flipped to the last date and sucked in a breath.
“What is it?” Drat, why hadn’t she thought to read that one herself ?
His lips formed a thin line. “Not something even close friends of the family should be apprised of.”
It took all her control, really she was amazed at how much she had, not to declare herself and snatch the journal from his hands. “Will you take it?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Howden posts entries too often. I shall make notes and hope that we’ll be able to access it the next time we need to.”
Mr. Grayson’s calm good sense acted as a balm on Eugénie’s nerves. She might not trust his friend, but she knew Mr. Grayson would do her no harm.
Right now the most important thing was to remove herself from Mr. Munford’s presence. “It is late. My friend and I must go home.”
“We’ll escort you.” Mr. Munford’s voice was soft and hard at the same time. He was definitely a man who was not accustomed to being gainsaid.
Her nemesis came to stand beside her, bringing with him all that male energy that she so unwillingly responded to. She calculated the chances of avoiding him. They were not good. “As you wish.”
Cicely stood, causing Mr. Grayson to shoot to his feet. “I’m tired as well. Poor Josh, we’ll have to wake him.”
“He’ll get up fast enough,” Mr. Grayson growled, “with my boot in his behind.”
