To Ruin a Rake (9 page)

~ * ~

Harriett still trembled inside as she dressed for tonight’s event, an evening of poetry at Lord and Lady Abernathy’s. She didn’t much feel like going, but Cat would flay her alive if she begged off. Even so, she seriously considered claiming the headache that had been pounding at her temples since the departure of that oaf, Manchester.

Just the thought of him made her stomach knot. He
would
come tomorrow. She’d relived every second of their encounter in her mind several times and come to the determination that it was a certainty. From the smell of him, he’d been drinking, but his reactions had not been those of a man soaked. He would remember. And because she’d once humiliated him—no matter how well-deserved her actions had been—he would never pass up an opportunity to make her life difficult.

Her chin rose as she looked her reflection in the eye. Let him try and find fault! She’d known this day would come and had prepared for it well. Her record-keeping had always been “meticulous,” as he’d put it. By the time he completed his little investigation, he would have no legitimate complaint.

The door opened. “Are you quite finished?” asked Cat, impatient as always.

“Almost,” Harriett answered, patting a curl into place. “We won’t be able to stay late, you understand.” Tomorrow would be an early start, even for her. There had been no time to tidy the office before leaving. She’d meant to do it today in preparation for Manchester’s visit tomorrow—his
planned
visit—but his unexpected arrival a day ahead of schedule had thrown everything out of order, including her equanimity.

“I doubt whether I shall wish to stay a moment longer than good manners require,” grumbled Cat. “Poetry recitals are
not
my idea of fun. The only reason I agreed to attend at all is because the very wealthy Lord Abernathy has an unwed son—reason enough to tolerate even the worst prose. I shall hold to the hope that he is not a poetry enthusiast.”

In spite of the heavy thoughts knocking about in her aching head, a chuckle rose in Harriett’s throat. “Well, if he is, I’m sure you’ll soon dissuade him of the habit.”

“I shall scream if he so much as utters a limerick.”

“Better to faint,” Harriett laughed. “At least then he may choose to think you overcome with sentiment.”

“Rather than nausea, you mean?” Her sister gave a delicate shudder. “You ought to bite your tongue, Harriett. You’ve always admonished me to speak honestly. Now you’re telling me to dissemble?”

“Yes, well, perhaps I should not have been so adamant,” Harriett murmured. “At least not where men are concerned. Their pride is far too easily wounded, and they
never
forget a slight.”

“Mm. Something has certainly soured the cream today. What was it this time? The lad in the east wing playing pranks on the nurses again?”

“Oh, how I wish.” It was pointless trying to keep it a secret. The papers would likely spill the tea tomorrow morning anyway. “Lord Manchester paid a visit today.”

Cat’s blue eyes widened. “Do you mean William’s brother? The man you knocked silly at the cemetery?”

“One and the same.”

“And? Did he remember you?”

Oh, he’d remembered her. She straightened and pasted a smile on her lips. “He did. And he will be coming tomorrow to review the ledgers.”

“But I thought you said he’d sworn never to cross the threshold of the place,” said Cat, eagerly leaning forward. “What prompted his visit, I wonder?”

“His inheritance hinges upon attending the affairs of the Hospital personally no less than twice a year,” Harriett explained. “Last year, he came and looked at the ledgers from inside his carriage—I say ‘looked,’ but I really know not what he did other than sign in the necessary places and have his man hand them right back through the door. This year, the other governors demanded that he actually enter the premises.”

“I see. But if you knew he was coming, why in heaven’s name were you even there?”

“Because although Mr. Blume had arranged to bring him tomorrow, Manchester for some unfathomable reason decided to arrive on his own a day early. I had no warning. He was wandering about in the hall when I came out of a room.”

“I imagine he was most displeased to have
you
pop out in his path,” said her sister with an irreverent smirk.

The displeasure had been mutual. “Indeed.”

“Why Harriett, I do believe you’re blushing.”

She looked up to see Cat’s eyes sparkling with mirth. “If I am, it is because he vexed me most grievously! He’d been imbibing prior to his arrival and was quite rude.”

Her sister’s face darkened. “Did he make you cry? If he did, I’ll have his hair by the roots! I’ll—”

“I would sooner
die
than give that man the satisfaction of seeing my tears,” Harriett snapped. She amended her tone in reaction to Cat’s raised brow. “There is nothing he could say that can hurt me. His words are the inconsequential mutterings of a worthless drunkard.”

“Even so, you have but to say the word and I shall put him on my list.”

Harriett observed her scowl with humor, but knew better than to laugh. Cat was quite serious. David Stratford was still on that list seven years after having yanked a pigtail. Once her sister lost her regard for someone, it remained ever lost. “Your loyalty is truly appreciated, but I am quite capable of fighting—and winning—my own battles. Now, we had better go before we are late.”

Harriett woke with a groan, wishing with all her might that Manchester had not seen her yesterday. Today would have been an at-home day, which would have meant sleeping in after her night out, enjoying a relaxing late breakfast, and having some leisure time. But that had all changed thanks to him. She dragged herself out of her warm, comfortable bed, determined to best the devil.

Donning a modest dark blue gown that covered her from neck to toe, she hurried down to eat a quick, lonely breakfast before beginning her journey. A note left for Papa ensured her early absence would not cause alarm.

The sun was still hiding behind the buildings when the carriage deposited her in front of the Foundling Hospital. She stopped for a moment to look at the work that had been done. The fence around the perimeter was almost complete, and the bricked-in enclosure between the wings would soon be finished. The fence was iron and tipped with spikes to keep out thieves, and the new wall would ensure the children a safe place to play outdoors.

The sunshine and fresh air would do them a world of good.

Mounting the steps, she entered. Normally the place was quiet at this hour, but what she found this morning was chaos. Nurse Hayes trotted out of W—no, it was not William’s office anymore, it was the Administrator’s. It belonged to the current Lord Manchester. A sharp pang stabbed her in the chest, stealing her breath.

“Oh, my lady!” whispered Nurse Hayes, bustling over and wringing her hands. “It’s terrible—he arrived half an hour ago, and he’s been turning everything upside down. The master’s office is in an awful state.”

“It is his office now,” Harriett reminded her, careful to show none of her resentment. “Go about your duties. I shall see to our visitor.”

“Yes, my lady,” said Nurse Hayes, giving her a grateful smile. She turned to go, but a sharp voice issuing from within the Administrator’s office halted her.

“Nurse Hayes! Entries for food purchases stop after the first week in December. Am I to believe no supplies were needed for the remainder of that month?”

Nurse Hayes cast a nervous glance at her.

Harriett waved her on and watched as the woman hurried from the room. Steeling herself, she strode across the foyer with purpose. What in the seven hells was he doing here at this hour?

Causing trouble, that’s what
.

It didn’t matter. Everything was in perfect order. Or at least it
had
been before Lord Pain in the Arse had arrived to muck it up. All she had to do was keep calm—at least on the surface—until he left. If she felt like a gibbering fool inside, she certainly wouldn’t let him know it.

“Nurse Hayes!”

Though Manchester’s bark made her jump, Harriett steadied herself and peeked around the door frame. There he sat at William’s desk, his head bent over the ledger, a pipe in his hand.

“You needn’t bellow, Your Grace. She isn’t deaf.”

His head snapped up. “You’re certainly here early, Lady Harriett. Most ladies of quality do not deign to rise before the tenth hour.”

“And good morning to you, as well,” she replied, keeping her tone light. “I am accustomed to rising with the sun, Your Grace.”

“How very odd,” he drawled, his whiskey eyes raking her over. “But then, I suppose you would be better rested than those indulging in frivolous evening entertainments.”

Meaning he didn’t think she had been invited anywhere, of course. Keep calm, she told herself. This is just beginning. There would be an entire morning of this, from the look of it. “As it happens, I did enjoy a delightful party hosted by Lord and Lady Abernathy yesterday evening. Yet, as you can see, I am still here to serve in what capacity I may. If everyone had the self-discipline to rise early and put their faculties to good use, the world would be a better place. Unfortunately, most people are far too taken with shallow pleasures to consider the good of their fellow man.”

Her return jab resulted only in his lips forming their familiar smirk. “How unfortunate that not everyone has your dedication and fortitude, Lady Harriett. Be that as it may, I have dragged myself from the considerable comforts of my bedchamber this morning to review the operation of this facility. Including this ledger, here.” He tapped it with the mouth of his pipe.

“Excellent. Let us not delay you from your comforts any longer than necessary, then.” She came around to his side of the desk and leaned over to point to a notation in the ledger’s margin. A queer expression, almost like panic, flickered across his face as he looked up. It was gone in the next instant.

She must have imagined it.

“As you can see,” she continued, “there were indeed no food purchases for the remainder of December thanks to a generous Christmas donation of food supplies from Lord and Lady Bracknell.” She fixed her gaze upon her own neat handwriting, determined to ignore the way he was staring at her.

At last, he looked to where she pointed. “Yes. I see that now.”

“You will find that any and all irregularities in the monthly expense column, no matter how minor, are annotated so throughout the ledger.”

He gave no response.

That’s right, you son of the devil.
She’d left no room for questions—or criticism. “Was there anything else?” she asked, smiling to herself over his bent head.

“Thus far…no,” he said, sounding both strained and disappointed. He straightened. “There is far too much to digest in one sitting. I’m afraid I shall have to review the rest over an extended period.”

Her triumph faded. “Naturally, you must take as long as you desire, Your Grace.” What else could she say? “I would not wish you to hurry in your examination, though I trust you will find the rest to be just as satisfactory.”

“Mm,” he grunted. “In retrospect, I realize I have been far too distant a manager.”

“You did not feel that way when you thought I was Mr. Dun,” she snapped before thinking better of it.
Now
he looked up at her, his smirk back in place. She cursed herself for giving him the reaction he’d sought.

“That
isn’t
the reason why I am doing it,” he told her. “I thought about what you said yesterday, and you were correct. I have never taken the interest in this place I ought. You should be glad, Lady Harriett, to know your words had an impact upon my poor, under-used conscience.”

His speech was pretty, but his tone conveyed another meaning entirely. Her blood boiled. “You
have
no conscience. The only reason you are here is to torment me.”

“Torment you?” he asked, his features rearranging into a mockery of distress. “How very ungenerous of you. Rest assured that, despite your rather self-centered explanation for my being here, my motives do not solely revolve around you. I have a duty to discharge here, and I intend to discharge it—thoroughly.”

“There is a first time for everything, I suppose,” she countered, no longer bothering to hide her rancor. At least he’d not denied she was
part
of the reason he was here! “That said, if you truly wish to benefit the Hospital, you’ll conduct your investigation and then leave us in peace.”

“Leave
you
in peace, you mean.”

Her cheeks heated. “I will not deny that such is also my desire. But in truth, my only interest is in seeing William’s legacy firmly established. As long as that is also your purpose, I will gladly tolerate your presence. But I expect you to behave yourself in a manner befitting a gentleman.”

~ * ~

Unfortunately, he didn’t feel very gentlemanly at the moment. What he felt like was taking the irritating woman over his knee. “As I shall tolerate yours, provided you show me proper respect.”

“As long as you conduct yourself respectfully, Your Grace, I shall do the same so that we may interact without conflict for the benefit of the Hospital. As far as my respect…”—her lip twitched on the verge of a derisive curl—“I’m afraid that must be earned.”

Rich was wrong.
It would not matter if he apologized. It would not matter if he sprouted angel’s wings and a halo, this woman would never regard him with anything other than thinly veiled contempt. “If you do not approve of my conduct, madam, you know the way out.”

Her delicate brows came together. “Unlike some, I will not abandon my duty because it is inconvenient or uncomfortable. Rest assured you shall have no complaint of me, Your Grace.”