15
Richard sat rigidly at his desk, his eyes fixed on the papers strewn before him—figures and inked notes that now represented far more than financial discrepancies. They were a betrayal. One he had failed to see. One he had allowed.
How could he have been so blind?
The door creaked open, and his mother stepped inside, her expression touched with concern. “Is something amiss?”
Richard didn’t look up. Instead, he asked, “How well do you know Mr. Benson?”
“Mr. Benson,” his mother repeated, sounding caught off guard. “Quite well. He’s been with our family for decades. Your father trusted him implicitly.”
Richard finally met her gaze. “Then Father was deceived. Benson has been embezzling from me.”
A sharp breath escaped her. “No. That cannot be right.”
“It is,” he said, lifting the papers slightly. “Miss Theodosia reviewed my ledgers and found the discrepancies. I plan to confront him soon enough.”
There was a pause before she asked, “You had Miss Theodosia review your accounts?”
He nodded. “Yes. She offered to help.”
“But I thought you didn’t trust her.”
His jaw tensed. “It’s complicated.”
His mother moved to the chair across from him and settled into it gracefully. “Then by all means, enlighten me. Because it hasn’t escaped my notice how often you’ve sought out her company of late.”
“I have done no such thing,” he said, more defensively than he intended.
A knowing smile touched her lips. “Of course not. But it’s obvious to everyone but you—though even that, I suspect, is changing. You care for Miss Theodosia.”
Richard scoffed. “I don’t wish her to be run over by a carriage, if that’s what you mean.”
“That is not what I mean and you know it,” she said with a teasing gleam in her eyes. “You have feelings for her.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “You know not what you speak of.”
“You can pretend all you like, Richard, but a mother knows.”
“Well, a mother can be wrong,” he said stiffly. “Even if I did feel something—which I assure you, I do not—she’s the daughter of a baronet and serves as Olivia’s companion. Hardly a suitable match for a marquess.”
His mother tilted her head, her smile widening. “So now we’re discussing marriage?”
He sighed and looked heavenward. “That was not what I meant.”
“You said thetonwould not accept her,” she said. “But I’ve seen the way she holds herself, and how others respond to her. She would win them over… just as she’s already won over you.”
“She hasn’t won me over,” he muttered.
“Hasn’t she?” came her retort as she rose to her feet.
Before he could respond, Sterling appeared at the door. “Mr. Benson has arrived, my lord,” he announced.
Richard straightened. “Send him in. And please ask Miss Theodosia to join us as well.”
“Are you sure about Mr. Benson?” his mother asked.
“I am.”
