Page 7 of A Lord in Want of a Wife (Daring Debutantes #2)

L ucy loved the click-clack of abacus beads.

As soon as she showed a talent with numbers, she’d been apprenticed to a spice merchant.

Originally, the master hadn’t believed a girl could calculate numbers accurately.

He’d set her to watch for thieves and pickpockets, but she eventually proved her worth. Just as she was going to do now.

And so she click-clacked the beads in a rhythm that usually kept people away. It said, ‘I am working.’

It did not stop Lord Domac.

He reminded her of Grace, unable to sit still, always looking, always thinking. That might endear him to her except that Grace found a use for her energy. Cedric used his energy on her.

‘What does that mark mean? Is that in rupees, silver or pounds? How can you keep track of where something is in the hold? What does that column mean again?’

It was maddening! And it also flushed her body with heat.

She was a girl who’d had to fight for every skill she possessed.

Every master, every monk who controlled the purse had doubted her ability with money.

She’d constantly had to prove her understanding, and even then, they discounted her.

Captain Banakos glowered at her as if she had poisoned his food.

But not Lord Domac. He begged her to explain, to teach, to share.

And though his constant interruptions made her want to scream, she felt such joy when he blithely accepted her greater skills.

He acted as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a man to learn from a woman, and that made her giddy with pleasure.

He knew exactly what he was doing to her, too. He would touch her arm, and her skin would tingle. She didn’t gasp—not after the first few times—but her body tightened in reaction. Then he would give her a bashful look.

‘I’m being a terrible bother, aren’t I?’

What could she say to that? ‘No, my lord—’

‘No, no. Don’t lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. You love this work.’ He gestured to the account books and her abacus. There was something jarring in his tone. Admiration, yes, but envy, too.

‘It is a pleasure to do something well, yes?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, yes, of course.’

She turned to look at him. She could add up ten numbers in her head, she could see a storage hold and rearrange it mentally to fit everything well, but she could not read his face. People often confused her, but him most of all.

‘You are not happy? With this work?’ she asked. But if that were true, then why did he work so hard to learn it?

‘What? Of course I’m happy. I’m amazed.’

Was he? She watched as he rocked back on his heels.

‘If you were to pick a cargo,’ he said. ‘One to sell in England, what would it be?’

‘I do not know your country.’

‘Right. Of course. But from what you see here. The Integrity has sold different cargos. Not just tea—’

‘Tea is the most consistent profit.’

‘Yes, but the East India Company controls that. And the Dutch lock down the spices.’ He exhaled. ‘What cargo, do you think, would be best?’

She shook her head. ‘I do not know. I can only show you the profit or loss from what has been sold.’ She pointed at the account book. ‘Those answers are in here.’

He smiled at her. ‘Not a fortune-teller. I understand. But this…’ He pointed to her neat columns of numbers. ‘This is important.’ It was a statement, not a question, and yet she responded as if he doubted what she said.

‘It is,’ she said, her chin lifted. And what she meant by that was, Yes, I am important, too .

‘So teach me how you do it.’

That was like teaching him how to breathe.

She knew how to do it. She could explain the mechanics.

But there was so much more to how, where and when she worked.

And yet, she didn’t mind starting again at the beginning and waiting for him to get frustrated.

After all, he was not the first person to learn her tasks.

And none of them could do it as well or as quickly as she.

He was no exception.

He tired by mid-afternoon on the first day.

He barely made it to midday on the second.

But he kept coming back. At least three hours a day.

And as they worked, she learned the rhythm of his breathing.

She knew when he was growing frustrated with his inability to use the abacus quickly.

She knew when he succeeded on the first try by his quiet ‘hup’ of satisfaction.

And she knew when he was impressed when he released a low chuckle of amazement.

If there was envy in him, she no longer felt it.

And now when he touched her, it was all she could do to keep from melting.

‘I like it when you laugh,’ he said the day before they were to make the next port in India. ‘I know something has gone right.’

‘Nothing has gone right,’ she countered. ‘Nothing has gone wrong. I am merely finished.’ She pointed to the large ledger book, now satisfactorily closed.

‘And what are your conclusions?’

She smiled. ‘That the captain is honest.’

‘Your father said as much.’

‘But he also makes mistakes.’ She pointed to a sheet of foolscap. ‘There should be enough now to buy spices without selling the tea.’

His eyes widened. ‘Show me!’ he commanded. And then he flushed. ‘Or, I suppose, we should bring in your father and the captain.’

Familiar panic shot through her belly. ‘No, no,’ she said in a rush. ‘I will show my father this paper. I can explain it to him.’

‘I’m sure you can, but that’s not very fair to the captain, is it? You’re exposing his mistakes, aren’t you?’

‘They were normal mistakes, and it is not so much money. I will not embarrass the captain that way.’ Nor would she expose herself to an angry man of the captain’s size.

By all appearances, he was a fair man, but she had been wrong in such assessments before.

The worst mistake she’d ever made was when she trusted that a seemingly fair man had bribed the Chinese officials to stay away.

In fact, he had tipped them off to the illegal trades she’d been facilitating.

She’d nearly died that night, and she’d learned not to trust others so blithely. ‘I will show my father, and he will decide what to do.’

He studied her face, his expression shifting from confusion to surprise. ‘You are afraid. But why? Captain Banakos is a good man.’

Maybe, maybe not. But she was not a woman who took blind risks. She stood up, taking her paper with her. ‘I will see my father now.’

He nodded. ‘But the account books are here. He will want to see what you have discovered.’ He matched her stance.

That was an English custom, she knew. To stand whenever a female of status stood.

That he did so with her was yet another reason she liked him.

‘You needn’t be afraid,’ he continued. ‘I will keep you safe.’

Such confidence. Didn’t he understand that safety happened one moment at a time, and they had months left on the boat. A cruel man could act deferentially one moment but then catch her unawares later.

‘Come now,’ he chided. ‘You are the one who began this. You asked to see the books.’

Yes, she had. Looking back, she still wondered what had made her so bold that night. Boredom was a large part of it. She was used to being busy. But also the desire to prove herself in her own way, just as her sister did in the sails. But now she couldn’t bring herself…

‘You can’t turn coward now,’ he chided. His smile was genuine. ‘I’ll be right here.’ Then before she could argue, he stepped into the hallway. It wasn’t long before a sailor passed by. There was nowhere on the ship that was truly private for long. ‘Fetch Lord Wenshire and the captain, please.’

She wanted to run. Indeed, she would have if he weren’t standing there grinning at her as if he were giving her some great gift.

The two men arrived a few minutes later, then everyone stood there looking at her with expressions she couldn’t read.

And if she couldn’t read their expressions, she couldn’t guess what would happen.

That wasn’t safe. But there was nowhere to hide. Damn it, she was confident in her numbers. Why couldn’t she stand tall and face them?

‘Er, hello gentlemen,’ Lord Domac began. ‘Miss Richards has discovered something marvelous, haven’t you? All her hard work these days is finished. She’s got notations on what cargo was profitable and by how much. Quite fascinating for me, but I’ll let her show you the figures.’

Mutely, she held up her sheet of foolscap. She wanted to speak. She tried to, but the English words were locked tight in her throat.

Her father took the paper, frowned as he inspected it. ‘This looks very close to what I was told. Very close indeed.’

‘Well then,’ the captain said with a hearty laugh. ‘I’d say she did a fine job there. This is a complicated thing. No one can get it right on the first try. Close is excellent work.’

Her head shot up. Her figures were accurate. It was he who had made the errors. But her protest was strangled in the middle. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the words out.

‘Miss Richards,’ said Lord Domac. ‘How many times did you check your work?’

She tried twice before the words came out. ‘Three times.’

‘Three times. That’s a lot. Did you find errors?’

She nodded.

‘Where?’

She knew the captain expected her to indicate errors in her own work, but she had made marks on the account entries. Tiny dots on the relevant pages. Mutely, she pointed to the first error.

The captain was quick to look, frowning as she quietly stepped back.

‘But that’s…well, that’s… Very well. A simple error in calculation. And it’s in my favour, Lord Wenshire.’

Mutely, she turned the page to another one, pointing. That one was in her father’s favour.

‘Ah. Yes. I see,’ her father said. ‘But they nearly cancel each other out.’ He looked at her. ‘How many of these errors did you find?’

She hated pointing out other’s errors. No one appreciated it, even those it benefited. But she glanced at Lord Domac’s reassuring nod and found her voice.

‘Thirty-seven in all,’ she finally said. ‘All small.’ She flushed. ‘The captain is honest—’

‘Of course I am!’

‘You are!’ she emphasised. ‘But everyone makes mistakes.’

Lord Domac stepped forwards. ‘You didn’t tell them the best part. There’s money,’ he said, pointing to the total. ‘Errors end up in your favour, Lord Wenshire. Enough to buy a small amount of spice without selling any of the tea.’

‘Now hold on here,’ the captain grumbled. ‘Just because I owe you coin, doesn’t mean there’s room in the hold or silver on hand to buy anything.’

‘There’s silver,’ her father said, his expression delighted. ‘And room on the boat somewhere. I should like to watch my daughter buy.’

She smiled. It wasn’t quite a grin, but she was pleased. So pleased that she looked to Lord Domac who was beaming at her as if she’d just won a prize. She felt her cheeks flush and quickly looked away, but the warmth stayed inside her for a long, long time.

There was no logical reason for him to be proud of her. Indeed, it made no sense that he had championed her at all, but the fact that he did stayed with her. It buoyed her that night, and it strengthened her spine the next morning when the real test began.