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Living with Henry had been a matter of day-to-day survival, navigating the demands of his temper while overseeing the household, supervising her father’s care, and meeting the very many social and charitable obligations imposed on the wife of a wealthy and socially ambitious banker. Now that she no longer had the legal disposal of the estate to worry about, it was almost terrifying, how much liberty she had.

“I hope you will forgive it as the observation of a friend if I remark that you are looking rather peaked,” Bint added.

Sophronia kept her smile bland and benign. In actuality she still felt a bit flushed from her ride with Rowden that morning. They had taken to visiting Green or Hyde Park before the rest of the household rose, and this morning, the third of her visit, Hercules had very nearly beat Dulcinea in their race around the Queen’s Basin.

Rowden was letting more of his true self emerge.

She could not think of Rowden at this moment. He confused her mind, and she needed to be clear when dealing with Bint. His remark about her health was an obvious ploy to put Sophronia in a weaker position, but she decided to leverage that if she could.

“I do hope I will not sustain for a while any further blows to my heart,” she said, placing a hand over that area. “Therefore I anticipate encouragement from you, Mr. Bint, as I tell you of the new venture I propose.” She forced another smile, hoping it came across as sweet instead of predatory. “It will be such consolation to have the support of my husband’s friends as I, his lonely relict, try to make my way in the world.”

Bint looked suspicious, as he ought. His face hardened when she explained about the girls’ school.

“Educational institutions can be very risky investments, Mrs. Hinton. Students defaulting on tuition, unhappy guardians bringing suits against the school⁠—”

“I am sure that with the advice of Mr. Elkins and yourself, I will have the appropriate legal protections in place.” Elkins was her solicitor.

“Parents will be very particular about any supervision to which they surrender their daughters. Your school and its staff must possess the most impeccable reputation.”

“Which I do.” Sophronia sweetened her smile. “As the virtuous widow of a respectable banker with connections to polite society, I am in a position to provide an advantage to the more genteel girls in my school. But I will predicate our curriculum on the moral virtues as well as intellectual knowledge and sound habits.”

Bint plucked the black and white quill from its stand and strummed his fingers along the feather, disordering the strands in his agitation. “I can only think what a trial it would be to manage so many girls. It will take a very sound and steady character to be headmistress of a boarding school.”

Sophronia bared her teeth. “I do not think Henry can have said one thing about my being other than obliging and sweet-tempered to him.”

“And there will be such an expense to keep the house and grounds in order⁠—”

“Paid for by the tuition of my students, I hope.”

He frowned. “And if you should encounter financial difficulties, and have to make a further loan from the bank, I cannot promise we will be in a position to support you, Mrs. Hinton.”

She stiffened her spine. “We are not discussing a loan, Mr. Bint. Under the terms of my husband’s will, I am in due of a percentage of the bank’s annual earnings, and I am at liberty to draw on the personal funds at my disposal at any time.”

“But not complete liberty, Mrs. Hinton. There must be some oversight from Mr. Withers and myself on any unusual disbursements or large withdrawals you wish to undertake.”

Sophronia clenched her fingers, hiding her hands in her skirts so Bint, from his position behind the massive desk, could not see. “I do not recall such stipulations were made in Henry’s will.”

“This is more of an informal stipulation, you might say. You understand that Mr. Withers and myself are responsible for the ongoing welfare of Hinton’s. We cannot allow the bank to support ventures unlikely to repay their investment.”

Sophronia narrowed her eyes at him. “I am not borrowing, Mr. Bint. Merely making use of the funds my late husband left me.”

“And it is our great honor and privilege to be stewards and inheritors of this venerable institution. We will exert the utmost care and discretion as we discharge our duties in the ways we believe your husband would see fit.”

“I am quite sure Henry would have seen fit to fund my wishes to establish a girls’ school.” She was stopping blood to her fingers, she clenched them so tightly.

Bint smiled blandly, enjoying the upper hand. They both knew Henry would likely not have countenanced such an enterprise at all, certainly not if it removed his wife’s attention the least bit from attending to his needs and comforts. “But surely you respect our obligation to protect the institution which your husband built,” Bint said.

“And you, just as surely, will wish to honor his wishes in supporting me.”

“Of course.” He laid his hands one atop another on the leather surface of the desk, the quill trapped beneath his palms.

“Then you will approve my withdrawal?” Sophronia pressed.

“I will consult with Mr. Withers on what he believes best. Do come visit us again, Mrs. Hinton.”

So this was his stratagem. He would keep her returning, begging at his doorstep, while he and Withers enjoyed their power to deny what was owed her. Sophronia contained her rage and rose with all the regal grace she was capable of summoning.

“I shall consult with Mr. Elkins. Perhaps he will be able to devise a strategy for investment that will gain the confidence of Mr. Withers and yourself.”