Page 80 of The Scot Who Loved Me
“You split your custom between factoring and rent,” the countess said. “But in the last year, you’ve averaged less than five pounds a month.”
Because chasing stolen treasure is time-consuming.
Instead she offered, “Your calculations are correct. As to my modes of custom, I prefer renting. It’s easier... if one finds reliable people.”
“That is the challenge.” Corners of the lady’s mouth curved as if Anne had passed a test.
Factoring was time-consuming, purchasing goods that might not be of the best quality (a trial by fire sort of education). A painful lesson learning the subtleties of English granite came to mind. If that risk wasn’t enough, seeking buyers who might not deliver promised funds was another risk. Prime Bavarian lumber lounged in her warehouse, the casualty of a price dispute between two merchants. She wouldn’t be paid until they resolved it.
The countess shut the ledger. “But no other custom than wood and stone? Rather dull, Mrs. Neville.”
She smiled. There was the Countess of Denton’s bite.
“Dull is fine, my lady. It keeps a roof over my head and debt collectors away.”
She was glad she hadn’t entered Mr. West in her column entitled Future Custom. Her ladyship had clearly scanned the book. For possible connections to the league? It wouldn’t do to draw the man into a troubled web not of his making. She’d let her guard slip with the key. A bad mistake. Arms folding under her bosom, she’d not let another happen again.
Lady Denton, by contrast, leaned casually against the opposite door frame, her face to the river’s breeze. “I’ve come to the conclusion that you and I are very much alike.”
“Oh? How so?”
“We are seekers, you and I. We take what we want despite the silly rules that stand against us.”
She weighed those words on a scale. There wassubstance in them. A faint thread, drawing parallel lines. Her struggle, Lady Denton’s struggle. Two women making their way in London.
Her chin tipped with doubt. They weren’t alike. Not at all.
“You’re skeptical,” the countess said. “It’s understandable.”
“I’m assembling all your words. On the one hand, subtle insults. On the other, refreshing directness.”
A feline smile spread. “You understand me. I knew you possessed a keen mind.”
She pushed off the wall, struck by the idea of another test done and met with satisfaction. “Why don’t I show you the treadwheel crane? It’s in my counting house in the loft above.”
“I’ve seen enough.”
“Are you prepared to make an offer?”
“For this? Absolutely not.”
Anne stepped impatiently to take back her ledger. “Then our business is concluded.”
“Why the rush? Are you off to plan a wedding?”
She stopped and dug fingernails into her petticoats. “I don’t know what you mean.”
It was Lady Denton’s turn to tip her chin with doubt.
“Don’t play me for a fool. The two of you are hardly the smitten pair. You need help with this—” the countess arced her ledger-holding arm at the warehouse “—and Will has experience on the yards. It’s a marriage of convenience.”
Her jaw dropped. So, this was how her ladyship made sense of her connection with Will.
“My sources tell me you married Mr. Nevilleand you gained a warehouse. I did the same but on a grander scale with the Earl of Denton, but that is where our similarity ends.” The countess marched slowly forward, stamped earth submitting to her silk shoes. “My marriage settlement included one warehouse, a fee simple title. Freehold ownership, Mrs. Neville, and I nursed it like a child,” she said proudly. “Now, I own all the warehouses between Arundel Stairs and Strand Bridge. My warehouses are filled with coachmakers, India paper manufactories and hangers, and soft-paste porcelain dishes. Pretty things, beautiful things. Things that sell for a great deal of money.”
All on the other side of the river. The countess stopped an arm’s length in front of her. Her brown eyes fevered, determined. A storm was building, the pressure about to blow. Anne braced herself.
“I intend to expand my circumstances, Mrs. Neville, and my purpose for seeking you is simple. I am inviting you to join me.”
