She shrugged. “Perhaps he’s waiting to see if he can trust you, whether you’re going to be able to handle the extra funds if he reveals them to you.”
Sheridan doubted that, but he could tell she was hopeful. A month ago, he would have assumed that her hope stemmed from a desire for money. Now he knew she simply wanted to help him, which was very sweet, but probably a lost cause.
“What do you have to lose if I look at the books?” she asked. “Are you doubting my intelligence again?”
“Again? When have I ever doubted your intelligence?”
“When you thought me a frivolous ninny.”
“I have long since been disabused of that notion, if I ever really believed it.”
That was the right thing to say, for she softened her stance. “So you’ll let me go over them.”
“If you want to so badly, absolutely. But you’ll have to explain to me whatever you find, so I can articulate it for him.”
“Of course. Let me just glance over this one first to see if I can tell what system he uses.”
“He says it’s double-entry.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t look like double-entry to me.”
Suddenly Gwyn burst into the room. “Where’s Mama?”
Sheridan stared at her. “I have no idea. Why?”
“I’m hoping she knows what has happened to Lady Hornsby. The countess isn’t in London or at her estate, according to her servants, who are being decidedly uncommunicative about where she actually is.” Gwyn dropped into a chair across from his desk. “Do you think she got wind of our investigation and left London for parts unknown?”
“I suppose anything is possible at this point,” Sheridan said. “You should send your husband to investigate.”
“I can’t. Joshua left London last night in furtherance of something he is investigating for you, he told me, though he wouldn’t say what.”
Sheridan chuckled. “That’s because your husband knows that once he tells you, it will be broadcast far and wide.”
“Hardly. I’ve kept Thorn’s secret all this time. I’ll bet you don’t even know what it is.”
“I’ll bet I do,” Sheridan countered. “But I swore I wouldn’t tell a soul, and you, dear girl, nearly told it yesterday.”
“What secret did she almost tell?” Vanessa asked. “My heavens, your family has a great many secrets.”
“I’ll tell you later,” Sheridan said to Vanessa in an undertone. He could always reveal how Olivia and Thorn had met. That was a juicy secret indeed. Although at the rate Gwyn and Olivia were going, the secret of Thorn’s identity as a playwright could be out next week.
His mother walked in.
“Good God,” he exclaimed. “Why are the lot of you congregating in my study? Don’t you have rooms—or in your case, Gwyn, a home—of your own?”
Mother pouted. “I learned that Gwyn was here, that’s all. I wanted to see if she’d heard whether Grey and Bea’s baby had been born yet.”
“No, it hasn’t,” Vanessa said even as she looked over the account book. “They’re still waiting.”
Sheridan cast her a surprised look. “How do you know?”
“Bridget heard it from a servant in Grey’s household. She’s on very good terms with his staff.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Sheridan muttered. “Your lady’s maid is quite the resourceful female.”
Ignoring him, Gwyn turned to their mother. “I have lost Lady Hornsby, Mama, and no one can tell me where she is.”
“Oh! I did mean to mention to you that she owns a romantic little cottage near Richmond Park. I’d forgotten all about it. It’s where she retires to if she’s having a tryst with a married lover. Here, I’ll write down the direction.” She walked over to Sheridan’s desk and took out a pencil and some paper. When she realized both of her children were staring at her, she said, “What? I went there to keep her company once when her . . . er . . . current lover was delayed up north.”
“I think you’re right, Vanessa.” Gwyn stood and walked over to take the piece of paper from their mother’s hand. “We do have a lot of secrets. And I guess I know what I’ll be doing the rest of the morning.”
Sheridan scowled. “You’re not riding out to Richmond Park alone, are you?”
“I’ll take a footman,” Gwyn said breezily.
“You damned well will not.” Sheridan shot to his feet. “You’ll take me, and I’ll carry my pistol just in case. Joshua would never forgive me if I let his very pregnant wife go with only a servant to an adulterer’s nest. Anything could happen.”
“Ooh, yes,” Gwyn said sarcastically. “I might see some marquess—or judge—naked.”
“And if you did,” Sheridan said, “you might not live to tell the tale. So I’ll bring this just to be safe.” He opened a desk drawer and removed his pistol case, then turned to Vanessa.
Before he could even say anything, however, she said, “Go, go. I’m just planning to sit here looking over these account books. And if you don’t arrive home before Mr. Bonham gets here, I’ll make your apologies.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He bent to kiss her, then headed for the door. “Mother? Are you coming?”
“No, dear,” she said. “I’m traveling again tomorrow, so the last thing I want is to spend an hour each way to Richmond Park in a coach.”
“Very well. We shouldn’t be too long. With any luck we’ll be back long before Bonham arrives.”
* * *
Vanessa had already only been half paying attention to the conversation, so when Sheridan and Gwyn left, she was quite absorbed in the account books. They made no sense. Sheridan might be blaming himself for the problem, but that was only because he was wary of how he saw numbers.
She, on the other hand, saw numbers perfectly fine, and these made no sense. They didn’t add up in the least. She needed an orderly way to look at everything because she didn’t have enough time to figure it out before Mr. Bonham arrived.
“My dear,” a soft voice said, and Vanessa nearly jumped out of her skin.
Then she realized that the
