Page 58 of A Vow for the Viscount
“Miss—” Lydia began.
Mary-Ann’s voice was polite, but immovable. “Kindly let Mr. Wilkinson know I’ve chosen to go alone. I trust he will understand.”
The carriage ride was quiet, save for the rhythmic clatter of hooves and the rustle of paper as Mary-Ann unfolded the note once more. Lydia had remained behind, her protests cut short by Mary-Ann’s unflinching composure and Mr. Hollis’s firm suggestion that the young woman might be more useful tending to tasks at home. Alone at last, Mary-Ann stared out the window, jaw tight, gloves folded in her lap.
He would have understood. Not Rodney, not Lydia, but Quinton. She could almost hear his voice, that maddening calm, asking what she meant to do about it.
This wasn’t just a day of distraction. It was a day of disappearance, her from the office, her influence, her authority. She’d seen this tactic before, used against other women in finer homes with softer voices. But Mary-Ann had learned to read absence like a map: what they meant to erase revealed more than what they left in place.
The front office of Seaton Shipping was hushed when she entered. Clerks looked up, startled by her arrival.
She moved with purpose past the outer desks. A few clerks hastily stood, nodding in greeting, but their expressions were strained. One dropped his pen. Another bent quickly over his ledger, refusing to meet her eye. Their silence wasn’t reverent, it was wary, as if they feared being caught in a shifting tide.
Mary-Ann’s steps slowed slightly. Had Rodney spoken to them? Warned them? Or simply acted with such confidence that no one thought to question his presence? Her hand brushed the curve of her hip, steadying herself. If there were rules being rewritten, she intended to see the ink.
Her boots struck the floor harder than she intended. They echoed through the front office as she headed toward her corner office, only to halt in the doorway.
Rodney Wilkinson stood behind her desk, sleeves rolled, ledger open. He looked perfectly at ease, as though the room belonged to him. He didn’t look up.
“Reviewing figures?” she asked, stepping just inside the doorway.
Rodney didn’t glance up. “Someone must. The ledgers are in disarray.”
“I wasn’t aware they required your attention.”
He closed the book with an audible snap. “Your father invited me to take a more active role.”
Mary-Ann kept her voice light. “In overseeing operations?”
“In correcting them.” He straightened, gazing and assessing. “It’s no secret the numbers have faltered. You’ve done your best, I’m sure, but certain matters are better handled with experience.”
A thread of tension wound tight in her spine. “I’ve managed them for years.”
“And I’ve tolerated that longer than most men would.” He rounded the desk slowly. “Once we’re married, you’ll be free of such burdens. You may focus on your proper duties.”
She tilted her head slightly. “And what might those be?”
He smiled thinly. “Dressing well. Hosting teas. Bearing my name without embarrassing it. You’ve had your little interlude, Mary-Ann. It’s time to behave like a wife.”
She didn’t reply, but her fingers moved toward the desk, eyes scanning the open ledger. A note in the margin caught her eye. The ink. The shape of the g. The same slant she’d seen before.
She reached for a scrap of paper nearby, folding it in half with unhurried precision and tucking it into her glove.
His gaze flicked to her hands, and his jaw tightened. Perhaps he sensed the movement. Perhaps he only saw that she had taken something and not asked. But he said nothing, just narrowed his eyes, as if recalculating.
Rodney’s smile faltered. “Is there something else?”
Her voice was calm, almost pleasant. “No. Thank you.”
Something in her chest lurched, unexpected, unsteady.
At that moment, the door behind her opened. Her father stepped inside, his gaze flicking from one to the other. “Is everything in order?”
Mary-Ann turned toward him, schooling her features. “Quite. I’ve finished what I came to see.”
“Excellent. Rodney, a word, privately, if you don’t mind.”
She gave a polite nod and stepped past her father.
