Page 56 of The Duchess Debt

“Isn’t that a good thing?” She quirked an amused half-grin at him, yet the tension didn’t ease from her belly.

“Not when my accountant has already transferred funds to you to pay the higher amount. Nearly twice as much, in fact.” His gaze fixed on her. “Where is the difference, Helena?”

Her smile vanished. “I don’t—I don’t know.” She scanned the bill again, desperate in her confusion to find the answer he expected from her, but the bill wasn’t itemized. She’d never purchased so many clothes and accessories all at once before and hadn’t thought to ask Mrs. Swenson to be that detailed. “There shouldn’t be any difference.”

His grim silence only served to increase her confusion.

When the realization of why he was there seeped through her, a chilling shiver came in its wake.

“You think I’m manipulating the accounts somehow, don’t you?” she asked, her voice low to prevent anyone from overhearing. “Keeping the extra money for myself?” When he stiffened, she knew she was correct, and the dread transformed into soft anger. “Did Adam put you up to this?”

“I want trust in my marriage,” he answered coolly.

She held up the bill. “And this is how you think to establish it—by accusing me of stealing?”

His jaw tightened. “I think society women do things like this all the time, and I want better from my own wife.”

“You mean Clarissa,” she corrected, her voice suddenly hoarse. “You meanClarissadid things like this all the time.”

At least he had the decency to hold her gaze as he answered, “Yes, she did.”

“I amnotClarissa.” She handed the bill back toward him, resisting the urge to wad it in her fist and toss it into the fireplace. “I wouldneverdo something like that.”

Guilt showed on his face, but not belief. Her chest squeezed so painfully that she winced. He still didn’t think her any better than his late wife. Dear God, how could she ever make him see that she wasn’t Clarissa?

A knock rapped on the open door. Helena turned away to swipe at her eyes as Mrs. Swenson appeared in the doorway.

“I’m so terribly sorry to interrupt,” she apologized and gestured toward the vanity. “I forgot my notebook.”

“Of course,” Gabe murmured and nodded permission for the seamstress to enter.

Mrs. Swenson scurried across the room to collect her notebook, only to halt in her tracks when she saw the bill in Gabe’s hand. Her shop’s emblem was clearly visible at the top of the paper slip.

“Is there a problem with the tally, Your Grace? I gave it to the butler to give to Miss Sinfell.” Mrs. Swenson straightened her spine warily as she cast her gaze between the two of them. “I hope I wasn’t the cause of any disagreement between you. I would be happy to provide an itemized list of goods and costs, if you’d prefer,” Mrs. Swenson continued. “But you should know that the bill is only for what was delivered today. More will be coming in the next few weeks as I finish the gowns and things that were ordered for London.”

Gabe stilled, except his gaze which darted to the seamstress. “Pardon?”

“You have a partial bill, Your Grace.” She raised her chin proudly. “I never bill for orders before the work is complete because I find that business practice to be unscrupulous.”

“I’m certain you do,” Gabe said quietly.

“I’ll bring the next bill when I deliver the rest in a fortnight, all fully itemized. I should warn you, however, that gowns for London are quite expensive. The finished bill will likely be half again as much as that. But I assure you my billing is accurate.” A touch of pique colored her voice. “I would hate for you to think I commit improper business practices.”

“His Grace doesn’t think that of you at all, do you, Thurston?” Helena laid her hand on Gabe’s arm and smiledreassuringly at the seamstress. “Actually, he was concerned that you wereunderchargingus.”

“Indeed.” His posture softened at the lie, yet his expression remained as inscrutable as ever. “My apologies, madam, for any misunderstanding. I’m certain all your work will be beautiful and of the highest quality.”

With a beaming smile, Mrs. Swenson gave a deep curtsey. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Helena didn’t see remorse in Gabe’s eyes but consternation. It struck her like a slap. Good God…had he wanted her to be as untrustworthy as Clarissa, after all, to prove himself right that no woman could be trusted?

“Please stop by my study before you leave,” he said to Mrs. Swenson. “I’ll personally make certain your bill is paid in full.” He gave a shallow nod in parting and didn’t meet Helena’s gaze. “If you’ll both excuse me, I have work to finish.”

Helena stared after him, her vision blurring from stinging tears. He’d apologized to Mrs. Swenson, but would he ever forgive her for all of Clarissa’s wrongs? For heaven’s sake, she wasn’t Clarissa! When would he ever start seeing her for herself?

“Miss Sinfell?” Mrs. Swenson asked with a frown of concern. “Are you unwell?”

She pulled in a deep breath and forced a smile. “I won’t need a second night rail. One will be more than enough.”