After Being Falsely Accused of Stealing From the Estate, She Handed the Duke Her Resignation — But He Tore It Up Before the Entire Household, Then Risked His Family’s Name to Prove the Governess He Couldn’t Let Go Had Been Framed

PART 2

“A governess requesting a private audience with a duke,” Emily said carefully, “to discuss estate accounts. That would have produced several interesting rumors. And very little arithmetic.”

“You might have tried.”

“I did.” She folded her hands. “Last November, you were leaving for London. I gave your secretary a note asking for ten minutes — regarding irregular household expenses.”

William became still.

“I never received it.”

“I assumed you had decided the matter was beneath your attention.”

The silence that followed was different from the earlier one. Less cold. More uncomfortable.

“And yet you continued keeping records.”

“I continued noticing things.”

“Why?”

Emily glanced toward the windows, where winter light had begun fading over the lawns. “Because Blackwood is not merely ledgers. Mrs. Grant’s nephew farms forty acres on the northern boundary. One of Lucy’s former nursery maids married a tenant near the western woods. When money disappears from an estate, eventually someone who cannot afford it pays.”

He studied her as though discovering an unfamiliar portrait on a wall he passed every day.

“You know my tenants.”

“Some. Their families — some. And the household accounts — only the portions that cross my path, which appears to be an inconvenient number of portions. I have always considered curiosity one of my less employable qualities.”

This time he smiled briefly. It changed his face enough to unsettle her.

The knock came before either could speak. A footman entered carrying two heavy ledgers originally intended for the steward’s office.

Emily stayed standing until William pulled out the chair opposite him.

“Sit, Miss Carter.”

She looked at the chair. Then at him. “Am I being dismissed?”

“You are being asked what you saw.” He opened the first ledger. “Sit.”

As a governess — as the person who noticed what everyone else missed — she sat.

For nearly an hour they worked beneath the growing glow of candlelight. Emily identified recurring names and purchases. William compared them against bank drafts. He did not interrupt her when she spoke. More surprisingly, when he disagreed, he asked why.

At last Emily stopped, her fingertip resting beside an entry dated October seventeenth — a payment for roof repairs at Miller’s cottage.

“This cannot be right.”

William leaned closer. “Why?”

“The Miller family left Blackwood two years ago. The cottage has been empty since.”

He turned several pages. The same property appeared again — every month, months of payments, each approved by Finch. His shoulder brushed hers as he reached for the second ledger. Neither moved immediately. Then Emily quietly shifted aside.

“There are eleven empty cottages on the estate,” William said.

“Then check all eleven.”

They did. Nine were receiving regular payments for repairs, coal, roofing, and labor. William’s expression hardened with every line.

Then Emily found something different. A transfer larger than all the others combined — entered under legal expenses, marked with an unfamiliar set of initials.

C.H.

William stared at them. His hand went motionless beside hers.

“You recognize those initials.”

He closed the ledger slowly.

“Yes.”

“Who — ”

The drawing room door opened without a knock.

A handsome man in an expensive traveling coat stood on the threshold, rain shining on his shoulders. He glanced at Emily seated beside the Duke — then at the open ledger between them. His pleasant smile disappeared.

William rose.

“Charles,” he said quietly. “How unexpected.”