Page 59 of A Foolish Endeavor

“Well, ribbons might have seemed an ideal choice for a girl, but of course, they would be of no interest to a boy. And spending the entire shilling on treats to divide between us meant you could have no worries of me asking you for any of yours, after I bought my ribbon.” She giggled.

“Still, it was wrong of me to force you out of your choice.” Gilbert toyed with the last of the greens on his plate a moment before adding, “I sometimes think you are too kind, too agreeable, Nancy, and too quick to allow someone to change your mind for the sake of peace.”

“Perhaps. Though, I think you will agree that I do not always do what a person expects of me.” She gave him an impish grin.

Gilbert felt his face warm, recalling her flat refusal of his offer of marriage. He cleared his throat and said, “Indeed, you do not. Well. I had best get back to work. This afternoon, I will show the ledgers to my father and, if he concurs with my conclusions, we shall soon return them to you.” He stood. “Thank you for the meal, Nancy.” He walked towards the door, before turning back. “One more thing. Who was the manager who made the suggestion of keeping the money safe for you until your father is better?”

“Why, it was Mr. Gordon, in our sundries shop.”

“I see.” With a nod, he returned to the study to gather the accounts to take to Clayton House.

“So, you see, Father, unless I have made a grave miscalculation, it appears that Mr. Gordon has been deceitful to Miss Slade about the sundries shop’s profits these past two months. While the books show that the milliners does usually sell fewer hats every year at this time, it is not the case with the sundries shop. I went back three years in the books, and there has never been a similar dramatic decrease in sales during the same period of time as Mr. Gordon has recorded since Mr. Slade has become unwell.”

Evan nodded his head in agreement. “It does seem quite likely that he has been skimming off the top, or perhaps not recording some sales at all, and, instead putting the money in his own pocket. In addition, giving Miss Slade a scrap of paper with what he says is the true monthly profit and convincing her that he would keep the money safe made it all that much easier for him to take a share without her knowing.”

“But how do we prove he has cheated her? What is not written down cannot be examined or challenged,” Gilbert said in frustration.

Evan sat back, his fingers pressed together at his chin. “Indeed—how do we justify our theory?”

The two sat in silence a while before Gilbert gave a small gasp and said, “What of this idea? All sales are written down in a ledger and can be verified, correct? So, we can start with our own family. I was in London a great deal of the summer, so I had no ability to purchase anything there, but have you bought anything, Father? We could check to see if the sale was accurately recorded.”

“As I said, I do not care for Mr. Gordon, so I have not been in the shop above twice in the past six months. Your sister, Lavinia, however, purchased a gift for Charlotte’s baby there recently, and it would have been in the last several weeks.”

“What did she buy?”

“A silver comb and brush set—a costly gift and one that most certainly should have been recorded in the sales ledger.”

Gilbert took the book and worked back, a finger sliding down the paper of each page, looking for a notation of Lavinia’s purchase. At last, he lifted his head and shook it.

“No record of any such sale, Father, going back all the way to the first of June.”

“Then we may have located the proof we need, Gilbert.” He grinned, satisfied. “Let us pay a little visit to Mr. Gordon tomorrow, and see what he has to say for himself.”

Chapter Forty-Six

The bell above the sundries shop door tinkled loudly, signaling the entrance of the two Mr. Kendalls. Evan and Gilbert had discussed their plan as they rode over that morning, coming to the agreement that the senior Mr. Kendall should do most of the speaking. Not that Gilbert felt inadequate to the task, but he agreed that his father’s presence, as one of the more notable members of the community, carried more gravitas. As they entered the shop, they saw that there were but a handful of customers spread out among the displays or considering the goods set on the floor-to-ceiling shelves. Mr. Gordon was speaking with one customer, but as he glanced up to see who had entered the store, he quickly snapped his fingers at the clerk, Mrs. Brecks, to replace him and hurried over, bowing and clasping his hands together as if in disbelieving glee of Mr. Kendall’s presence.

“Mr. Kendall and Mr. Gilbert Kendall—good morning, good morning! What an honor to have you both in our humble establishment. An honor indeed, sirs. How may I serve?” He ran a hand over his thinning pate and bowed again.

“Good morning, Mr. Gordon,” Evan said in a neutral voice. “I wonder if we might speak to you in private?”

A look of confusion briefly flashed across the manager’s face, before he bowed again and swung an arm to guide the two towards a small office in the back of the store. Once there, he shut the door, sat at a small desk, and gestured at two nearby wooden chairs. “Please have a seat just there, gentlemen. What is this all about?”

Evan ignored the chair and pulled out the sales ledger from under his arm, dropping it unceremoniously on the desk. “Do you recognize this, Mr. Gordon?”

The man opened it and nodded. “Indeed, I do—it is the sales registry from this very shop. I gave it to Miss Slade just a few days ago. I am exceedingly happy to have it back, for I write all our sales in it, and in its absence, I have had to keep track on loose paper. Now, I shall have to re-enter all the sales in this book and such useless work it is, too. Still, that is how her father prefers it, and who am I to argue?”

“Who indeed?” replied Evan. “I fear though that you may not retake possession of the ledger just yet.”

“Oh?” Gordon asked, eyebrows raised. “And whyever not?”

“There are some discrepancies in the books which we wish to discuss, sir, and, depending on the result of our conversation, this ledger may be needed as evidence in a criminal allegation.”

Gilbert and Evan saw Mr. Gordon’s face blanch.

“I… I am sure I have no idea of what you are speaking, Mr. Kendall,” the manager stammered. “Criminal allegations? What is your meaning? Have I been cheated?”

Gilbert could not refrain from letting out a short laugh. “More like you are the cheater,” he said, fiercely. Evan placed a hand of caution on his son’s arm.