Looking back at the footman, she tilted her head and gave a small smile. “I would like to leave this for Mr. Bentley in case he returns before Monday. Shall I put it in his office?”
The footman shrugged again in a way only young men could do without looking completely disrespectful. “Do what you like, miss. The door is never locked.” Then he pushed away from the wall and turned to saunter back down the hall, whistling between his teeth as he went.
After a moment, Emma lifted her hand to turn the doorknob. The door opened silently and she entered the office. The room was still and quiet without Bentley seated behind the large desk, but a hint of his scent hovered in the air. Feeling a pull at her center, Emma breathed deeply and forged ahead. She placed the ledger on his desk and withdrew a page of her notes. Taking an extra moment, she wrote a hasty message directing him to the pertinent pages of the ledger and her evaluation of the data, advising that she would delve more deeply into an analysis of the information when she returned to the office on Monday.
Setting the note on top of the ledger, she pushed the book into the center of the desk, then quickly made her exit. As she walked back toward her office to gather her personal things before leaving for the day, she acknowledged her frustration.
She was being ridiculous.
If she were smart, she would take her day off tomorrow to force the issue into proper perspective. Her virtue was intact. No real harm had been done. He had made certain of that.
By the time Roderick returned to London, she would have the whole incident firmly resolved in her mind and they could resume their professional relationship as though nothing had happened.
It was a good plan.
Besides, she had far more pressing issues to worry about than her confusing relationship with Mr. Bentley. Hale’s last missive continued to weigh heavily on her mind. He still intended to obtain repayment of her father’s loan. Emma just hadn’t the slightest idea how that was going to be possible.
And if it wasn’t possible…what would Hale do?
That night the Chadwicks headed for a grand ball hosted by Lady Griffith. It was expected to be an extremely extravagant event. Every year, Lady Griffith was determined to have the most talked-about party of the Season. Several hundred people had been invited, and the dancing would likely go on well into the morning hours.
On the drive over, Emma noticed something about her sisters that made her uneasy.
With the schedule she had been keeping at the club and the many events they all attended in a never-ending cycle, it had been difficult for Emma to spend much valuable time with Portia and Lily. She could not remember the last time they had all engaged in a really good talk.
In the years after their mother’s death, when their father had most often gone out in the evenings, she and her sisters would spend hours discussing various topics. Emma didn’t realize how much had changed over the last few weeks until they sat in the carriage together, making the thirty-minute drive to the Griffith mansion in silence.
Emma sat beside Angelique, facing her sisters, who were both determined to keep their gazes trained out the windows. As an intentional deterrent from conversation?
Emma suspected so.
The Season was wearing on all of them.
Even for Emma, the passing of ladies and gentlemen in their finery blended together in an endless flow of elegantly embroidered silks, satins, and lace. The small talk which was so vital at the start of the Season as introductions were made and acquaintances established had grown tiresome and rehearsed. The facade was sliding away.
Though perhaps it was more accurate to say Emma’s perspective had shifted. Life within the ton had not maintained the same appeal she had envisioned when she decided to see her sisters married.
Anxiety and an uncharacteristic doubt sat heavily in her stomach. She studied the two younger Chadwicks in the changeable light of the carriage as they passed between street lamps.
Portia was in an obvious sulk. Emma recognized the sullen mood in the girl’s slightly hunched shoulders and the way her black-winged brows curled low over her eyes in a thoughtful frown. Portia had been rather disappointed in her debut Season from the start, and it seemed things were not getting any better. Emma had hoped her sister would find the experience to be an exciting adventure.
Judging by the girl’s often morose attitude over the last couple of months, that did not appear to be the case.
And then there was Lily. Usually the first to notice when Portia was getting into a mood, she was often the only person able to shift her sister’s perspective. But tonight, she didn’t even seem to notice anything amiss. Lily’s focus was turned so far inward, Emma wondered if she even recalled where they were going.