Chapter 15
Richard sat rigidly at his desk, his eyes fixed on the papers strewn before him—figures and inked notes that now represented far more than financial discrepancies. They were a betrayal. One he had failed to see. One he had allowed.
How could he have been so blind?
The door creaked open, and his mother stepped inside, her expression touched with concern. “Is something amiss?”
Richard didn’t look up. Instead, he asked, “How well do you know Mr. Benson?”
“Mr. Benson,” his mother repeated, sounding caught off guard. “Quite well. He’s been with our family for decades. Your father trusted him implicitly.”
Richard finally met her gaze. “Then Father was deceived. Benson has been embezzling from me.”
A sharp breath escaped her. “No. That cannot be right.”
“It is,” he said, lifting the papers slightly. “Miss Theodosia reviewed my ledgers and found the discrepancies. I plan to confront him soon enough.”
There was a pause before she asked, “You had Miss Theodosia review your accounts?”
He nodded. “Yes. She offered to help.”
“But I thought you didn’t trust her.”
His jaw tensed. “It’s complicated.”
His mother moved to the chair across from him and settled into it gracefully. “Then by all means, enlighten me. Because it hasn’t escaped my notice how often you’ve sought out her company of late.”
“I have done no such thing,” he said, more defensively than he intended.
A knowing smile touched her lips. “Of course not. But it’s obvious to everyone but you—though even that, I suspect, is changing. You care for Miss Theodosia.”
Richard scoffed. “I don’t wish her to be run over by a carriage, if that’s what you mean.”
“That is not what I mean and you know it,” she said with a teasing gleam in her eyes. “You have feelings for her.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “You know not what you speak of.”
“You can pretend all you like, Richard, but a mother knows.”
“Well, a mother can be wrong,” he said stiffly. “Even if I did feel something—which I assure you, I do not—she’s the daughter of a baronet and serves as Olivia’s companion. Hardly a suitable match for a marquess.”
His mother tilted her head, her smile widening. “So now we’re discussing marriage?”
He sighed and looked heavenward. “That was not what I meant.”
“You said the ton would not accept her,” she said. “But I’ve seen the way she holds herself, and how others respond to her. She would win them over… just as she’s already won over you.”
“She hasn’t won me over,” he muttered.
“Hasn’t she?” came her retort as she rose to her feet.
Before he could respond, Sterling appeared at the door. “Mr. Benson has arrived, my lord,” he announced.
Richard straightened. “Send him in. And please ask Miss Theodosia to join us as well.”
“Are you sure about Mr. Benson?” his mother asked.
“I am.”
His mother gave him an approving look as she started walking to the door. “Then I wish you good luck,” she said.
Moments later, Mr. Benson entered the study. Tall and long-faced, his silver-streaked hair was neatly slicked back, and he wore the calm smile of a confident man.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” he said with a bow.
Richard gestured towards the empty chair in front of the desk. “Have a seat, Mr. Benson.”
The older man hesitated only briefly before taking the proffered chair. “Is something the matter?”
“There is,” Richard replied. “But I would prefer to wait until Miss Theodosia arrives before addressing it.”
“Miss Theodosia?” Mr. Benson asked, his brow furrowing.
“She is my sister’s companion.”
“I see… and why would she need to be present for our conversation?”
“You’ll understand in a moment.”
Mr. Benson settled back, seemingly unbothered. “How is Lady Olivia faring?”
“As well as can be expected,” Richard replied tersely. “Given everything.”
Mr. Benson’s expression turned solemn. “It was a terrible misfortune, what befell her. I was truly grieved to hear it.”
Richard studied him closely. He was smooth, practiced, and his voice steeped in sympathy that now felt hollow. No wonder his deceit had gone unnoticed for so long.
The door opened again, and Miss Theodosia stepped inside. Richard stood as she entered and said, “Miss Theodosia Smith, allow me to introduce Mr. Benson. He is my man of business.” He tripped over those last words.
Mr. Benson rose and gave a courteous bow. “Miss Theodosia.”
She curtsied. “Mr. Benson.” Her gaze slid to Richard with subtle apprehension.
“Come stand by me,” Richard invited, gesturing to the space beside him.
She complied, moving to stand at his right.
“I asked Miss Theodosia to review the estate accounts,” Richard began, “and she made a rather troubling discovery.”
Mr. Benson’s smile barely faltered. “And what would that be?”
“That you’ve been siphoning funds from my accounts for years,” Richard replied. “And based on Miss Theodosia’s calculations, you have stolen nearly ten thousand pounds.”
There was a brief silence before Mr. Benson asked, “You had a woman examine your accounts?”
“I did,” Richard said. “Miss Theodosia is precise and extremely capable.”
Mr. Benson chuckled softly. “I don’t doubt her intentions, my lord, but estate accounts are not simple. I fear she may have misunderstood them.”
“I assure you, I did not,” Theodosia said, her voice even but firm.
He raised a placating hand. “I meant no offense, Miss Smith. But these matters are complex. You haven’t been trained—”
“I can still read a receipt,” she interrupted, “and I know what one should look like. Especially when a ten pound bill is entered in the ledger as one hundred and ten.”
Mr. Benson stiffened. “An oversight, nothing more.”
“Once or twice, perhaps,” she countered. “But the same ‘mistake’ appears monthly for three years. And always on lesser sums, to most likely avoid drawing attention.”
“I believe you’re mistaken,” he said tightly.
She met his gaze without flinching. “I believe I am not.”
Turning back to Richard, Mr. Benson asked, “And you believe her over me? A man who served your father loyally and has stood by you since you came of age?”
Richard met his eyes squarely. “Yes. I do.”
Mr. Benson’s composure slipped. “This is absurd. She is not qualified—”
“I’ve heard enough,” Richard cut in. “I will be contacting the constable shortly. You would do well to use the time to put your affairs in order. I daresay I am being exceedingly generous, considering the circumstances.”
Mr. Benson paled. “My lord, surely you are not in earnest,” he said, taking a hesitant step backward. “This is all a misunderstanding—nothing more than a series of innocent errors. You must see that.”
“I see clearly for the first time,” Richard replied. “Miss Theodosia uncovered the inconsistencies. I reviewed them myself and I came to the same conclusion as her.”
The older man’s composure began to unravel.
“But… surely you must realize the consequences of making this public,” he said, his voice turning desperate.
“What will people say when they learn a woman—a mere companion, no less—was entrusted with managing your estate accounts? Think of the scandal. Not only for yourself, but for her.”
“That is not your concern,” Richard said. “Nor will I allow you to use societal opinion as a shield for your deceit.”
Mr. Benson’s expression contorted into a frown. “Your father never would have allowed a woman to interfere in such matters.”
“Did you steal from him as well?”
Mr. Benson bristled. “Never,” he said with a sharp swipe of his hand, as though the very notion were offensive.
“Only from me, then?” Richard asked, the accusation laced with bitter irony.
There was a pause, then a sigh—wary, evasive. “You’ve never been comfortable with numbers,” Mr. Benson said carefully, his tone sliding into condescension. “I fear Miss Theodosia has preyed upon that weakness. She’s misled you, whether intentionally or not.”
Richard’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “Do not speak of her as though she were a scheming opportunist. She has done nothing but assist me with patience and clarity—something you, for all your years of service, never did.”
“I meant no insult,” Benson said quickly. “It’s just that managing an estate of this size is no small feat, my lord. The ledgers alone—balances, projections, investments—those are complex matters. A woman cannot possibly be expected to—”
“You would be wise to stop right there,” Richard interjected. “If you insist on underestimating Miss Theodosia, then that shall be your downfall. She is every bit as capable of running an estate as a man.”
Mr. Benson’s mouth opened, then closed, as though searching for a retort he no longer believed himself capable of defending.
Richard took a breath and said more quietly, “You took advantage of me. You believed I would never notice. You relied on my limitations. But she noticed. And now I see you for what you are.”
The silence that followed was thick and damning.
Mr. Benson stared at the floor, his shoulders beginning to sag. “You would see a man ruined by the word of a woman?”
“I would see a man ruined by his own actions, and I expect you to return the funds you stole from me,” Richard replied. “Now get out of my sight.”
Mr. Benson did not wait to be dismissed a second time. With his face pale and his dignity in tatters, he bowed stiffly and exited the study in hurried strides.
Richard exhaled slowly, then turned towards the woman who had made the confrontation possible. “Thank you.”
Miss Theodosia’s eyes searched his. “Did you mean what you said… about me?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Every word.”
Her eyes glistened with the barest sheen of emotion, and the corners of her lips curved upward. “Then I believe it is I who should be thanking you. Very few men—particularly men of your rank—would have spoken so openly in a woman’s defense. Let alone a companion with no wealth or consequence.”
“You are a woman worth defending,” he said, taking a step closer.
Her smile grew. “Careful, my lord. I could grow quite accustomed to such compliments.”