Chapter Forty-Four
Gilbert spent most of the rest of the day in Mr. Slade’s study, poring over the papers and accounts for three and even four months back.
The system Mr. Slade had devised for keeping his books was simple enough to discern, but as Gilbert compared the monthly figures, he began to note some discrepancies, especially in the past two months, during the time Nancy’s father had become unwell.
Gilbert worked diligently, taking only a brief break to eat some bread and cheese from a tray Molly had brought in, along with a pot of hot tea.
He had hoped Nancy might join him, but was aware that he was still somewhat in a state of disfavor with her, so he considered himself fortunate to have been sent anything at all.
Finally, as the small mantel clock was striking three o’clock, he closed the books and left the study.
He located Nancy in the back parlor, doing some needlework.
As he entered, she raised her head from her work, and he noted an expression of both fear and hopeful expectancy on it. He smiled reassuringly.
“Nancy, I must return to Clayton House now, but, with your permission, I shall return tomorrow that I may continue my efforts.”
“Have you been able to make heads or tails of the accounts, or are they a hopeless muddle?” she asked cautiously.
Gilbert nodded. “I can understand the ledgers to a certain degree, yes. Your father has kept very good accounts from what I can see. However, I am in need of more study to be certain I am comprehending them correctly. I shall return after breakfast, if that is agreeable with you.”
She set her needlework aside, rose from the sofa and crossed the room to stand before him. “Of course, it is. I shall expect you. I have no place else to be.”
“How is your father this afternoon, if I may be permitted to inquire?”
“No better, but, thankfully, no worse. Dr. Baker is to return tomorrow and perhaps he will have some advice for me.” She wrapped her arms around herself and took a shuddering breath before adding, “Oh, Gilbert. If Papa dies, I do not know what I shall do. I truly do not.”
Gilbert felt an ache in his chest and, once again, he longed to pull her into his arms, stroke her beautiful red hair, and kiss her freckled cheek, but he knew Nancy would find such an act most unwelcome.
She might well forbid him entry tomorrow.
So, he tentatively reached out a hand to gently pat her arm, and said, “Think not on such unhappy possibilities. I have confidence in Dr. Baker, Nancy—I am sure he will know how best to help your father.”
Nancy only nodded, struggling with her emotions. Finally, Gilbert said, “Until tomorrow, then,” and departed.
After securing the newly-shod horse in the stable, Gilbert rode home and, upon entering Clayton House, went straight to his father’s library and knocked on the door.
Hearing the call to come in, Gilbert entered and walked up to his father, who was seated, as usual, at his large mahogany desk.
Gilbert could see Evan was going over his own accounts for the estate, something Gilbert had never been privy to.
“Yes, Gilbert?” Evan asked. “You have been in Doddington a long time. Was there a problem with shoeing the mare?”
“It was quickly resolved, Father. I have spent most of my day at the Slades.”
“Oh, yes, you were to deliver the basket of preserves and such. How is Mr. Slade doing? I was saddened, indeed, to hear of his illness. He is a good man, who runs his businesses in an honest manner, and I hold him in high esteem. Did you see him and can you report that he is better?”
“I did not see him, as he remains in bed.” Gilbert saw the perplexed expression on his father’s face as he processed this statement.
“What kept you at the Slade residence for so long, then? Were you not only going to drop off the basket your sisters had prepared?”
Gilbert took a seat in the chair across from Evan, leaning forward.
“I wish to be totally honest with you, Father. Indeed, my intention was to only deliver the basket with no mind to staying longer than that errand demanded. However, I arrived to find Miss Slade in a dreadful state. She had clearly been weeping and was quite distraught. I assumed it was due to her father’s illness, but that was only a part of her sorrow.
It seems she has been trying to work out the accounts of Mr. Slade’s businesses and is unable to do so—she has no head for such matters, she says.
I offered to assist her and that is why I was absent so long. ”
Evan nodded his head in approval. “That was most generous of you, Gilbert, and I am well aware of your talent with figures. Did you resolve everything to your satisfaction?”
“No, sir. I must return tomorrow. You see, as I went over the accounts, I compared them to the past several months, and I have found… oddities that concern me.”
“How so?”
Gilbert gripped his hands together, frowning.
“I would not wish to cast aspersions on any man’s character, but it seems—at least, by my first analysis—that one and possibly two of Mr. Slade’s managers may be hiding something.
The accounts look to be in order, but the total profits appear to have fallen off dramatically in the past month or so.
That would be the precise same period Mr. Slade has been ill, and unable to attend to his businesses. I cannot determine why that might be.”
“You suspect deceit on the part of the managers?”
“As I said, I wish to do a little more digging before I make any such accusation. Perhaps such a drop in income is typical this time of year? Or…” Gilbert lifted his hands and shrugged.
“Or they are taking advantage of an ill man, hoping the thievery may go unnoticed,” Evan said, grimly. “They may even wish his poor health to linger, or that he perhaps might die, giving them free rein to steal before poor Miss Slade can stop them. What is your plan?”
“Well, I believe I must go back and examine the records for a full year or more to see if such a large drop in income has been noted before in the summertime. If not, then I fear we may have theft to deal with. I agree with you—it is very likely that the managers know quite well that Nancy—Miss Slade—is unable to decipher the accounts on her own and are more than happy to take advantage of the situation.”
“I know that Mr. Slade owns the sundries shop and the circulating library. He recently bought the tea shop, and, what else?”
“He is the owner of the hat maker’s shop, and he has partial interest in the Black Crow Inn.”
“And in which businesses do you suspect the possible cheating of Mr. Slade?”
“I noticed the irregularities in the sundries shop and at the milliners.”
“Ah, yes. A Mr. Gordon manages the sundries shop. In truth, I have never cared for that man. I feel a need to count my change carefully whenever I buy something there. I also find Mr. Gordon’s obsequious manner towards me quite annoying.
” Evan toyed with his penknife, considering his words.
“As for the milliners, well, I am not as familiar with that business. How long do you think it may be before you determine if there is, for absolute certain, some scurrilous activity?”
“Another day or so?” Gilbert guessed. “Once I do determine the truth of it, how shall I handle it, Father? I shall be so angry I shall wish to go and thrash the cheating rogues.”
“I fully understand, although that would not be productive. When you have the proof you need, come back to me and we shall determine the best course of action together.” Evan studied his son with a half smile.
“I am proud of you, Gilbert, not only for offering to assist the Slades, but in using your mind so well as to discover this potential fraud. You are to be commended, and I am certain the Slade family will be most grateful.”
Gilbert felt his face flush at the rare compliment—it had been a long while since his father had spoken so highly of him. Thinking of his own past behavior this summer, Gilbert felt his eyes moisten at such praise.
“Thank you, Father. I… I know I have been a great disappointment to you and the family since returning from University. I wish to redeem myself somewhat in your estimation and, while I still have no firm plans as to my future, once I settle these accounts, I promise you that I shall give serious thought to what I shall do.”
“We can discuss all that in due time, son,” Evan said with a kind nod and a dismissive wave of his hand. “Go along now; I shall see you at dinner.”
Gilbert left the library, feeling lighter in heart and spirit than he had in some time.