Page 51 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
John stood suddenly, newly inspired. He glanced at his pocket watch and saw that it wanted fifteen minutes to three o’clock. He had time if he left now. Perhaps his efforts would still be in vain, for he knew not if these orphanage discrepancies would pin anything on the earl. However, it was all he had to go on.
“Gabriel, I need to go out for the rest of the afternoon. If youwish to remain in the office rather than staying in your room, you are welcome to do so. I will give you the same record-keeping that Timothy has been working on in your absence. See if you can do the sums there, using your left hand.”
Gabriel flashed him a smile. “Yes, sir.”
John took a hackney to the address indicated on Mr. Biggs’s letter and paid the driver. The house appeared to be a comfortable size.
The servant came to the door, and he handed him his card. “I am looking for Miss Biggs. She will not know who I am, but this is my card.”
The servant glanced at it. “Miss Biggs is not at home, but Mr. Biggs might be able to receive you. I will ask him if he is free.”
It took John all of two seconds to realize that, as this Mr. Biggs could not be Miss Biggs’s husband, he must be her brother. His search was at a lucky end. In a few minutes, he was shown into the small sitting room, where Mr. Biggs got to his feet. The old steward was still in the prime of his life, although his hair was graying.
“Mr. Rowles, this is a pleasure. I believe you are my replacement at the foundling asylum.”
John was relieved to be so easily recognized. “You are correct. I hope I have not caught you at a bad time.”
“Now that I am retired, my time is spent entirely in my garden or in reading the newspaper. I don’t think you could come at a bad time.”
He smiled pleasantly. John hoped the visit would prove more beneficial than that of Mr. Peyton’s. When they were seated and a bottle of cold wine had been brought, John came right to the point.
“Mr. Biggs, I am here because I have discovered discrepancies in some of the ledgers. I did not come to accuse you of anything, but I was wondering if you knew something about it.” He was too impatient to word the request more obliquely.
Mr. Biggs sighed. “I had thought it might come to this. You are referring, I assume, to the donations that were never shown as being disbursed. My record-keeping was not as assiduous in the beginning, for I was serving two roles as headmaster and steward.”
“I understand that, and as I said, I am not here to criticize. However, as we find ourselves in a difficult situation?—”
John realized that Mr. Biggs could not know of the collapsed wall. “A large portion of the stone wall between the stable and chapel fell, and we are attempting to locate funds to repair it. As you probably know, it was a partially load-bearing wall.”
Mr. Biggs furrowed his brows and seemed troubled by the news. “No one was hurt, I hope.”
“Gabriel, one of the orphans, was. He was standing too close to it when it happened, and he broke his arm when one of the stones fell on it.”
“Gabriel Smith?” Mr. Biggs’s eyes started. “Does the earl know about this?”
The question was an awkward one. “I have no dealings with the earl, so I cannot tell you. Fortunately, the boy is healing nicely.”
When the old steward offered nothing further, John pressed on. “A marble plaque was discovered with the names of certain early donors and the amounts they had given. It was revealed when the wall fell.”
Mr. Biggs nodded. “Mr. Woode’s gift to the orphanage. His name was at the top of the list.”
And contains the largest amount,John thought, wryly.
“What I would like to know is why the plaque had been hidden.”
Mr. Biggs shifted in his chair, rubbing his chin before replying. “The earl suggested we place it out of view once the chapel was finished to avoid appearing boastful. It was then decided wewould store it behind the reredos. That way it would be kept in pristine condition.”
John looked at him with skepticism, which had the result of making Mr. Biggs even more uncomfortable. It was clear that something was hidden, and what was maddening was that he could not get to the source of Lord Goodwin’s corruption.
“Were any of the later donors aware that some of their money was being used for another venture entirely? Did they know about the mill in Manchester?” This caused a look of dismay on the old steward’s face.
“Mr. Rowles, I understand your concerns. I will not say that there are no discrepancies to look into. I am certain I have made some errors, myself. But there are some that are better left as is. Allow me to hint that there are powerful men behind the money that goes into the foundling asylum. I would advise you not to look too closely into any disparities you might find.”
John looked at him steadily. “Is that what you did? Is that why you retired early?”
Mr. Biggs shrugged and rubbed his palms on his breeches.
“I am getting old. It was never my nature to fight against a force too great for me, not even in my youth. I am certainly not equipped to do it now.”
