“It is I who am here to serve you.” Confidence shimmering off him, he came nearer and set his things on her desk. “My name is Paul Lassiter. I’m a solicitor. One of my clients wishes to make a donation toward helping to finance your lending library and your efforts to educate those adults who have yet to learn to read.”
“Oh.” She hardly knew what to say. Until that moment all her donations had come from her family or their spouses’ families or friends. Once she married, hopefully, she would be able to tap into a host of beneficiaries.
He opened his satchel, removed a package wrapped in brown paper secured with string, and set it before her. Slowly, she loosened the bow and folded back the covering to reveal a stack of notes.
“Five hundred pounds,” he said.
She jerked her gaze up to meet his. “Who is this client?”
“Someone who wishes to remain anonymous.”
Someone? A man? A woman? Could it be Lady Penelope? She’d certainly perked up when she’d learned the library was maintained with donations. Or was it someone else? “Why would this person be so incredibly generous?”
“A believer in your cause.” He picked up his hat and satchel. “Have a good day, Miss Trewlove.”
“Wait. I... I’m having a difficult time absorbing this. You can tell me something about this generous soul, surely. Have we met? How did he—or she—learn of my cause?”
“I’ve done what I’ve been hired to do. Simply make good use of the funds.” He gave a short bow before walking out.
She sat there in silence for several long minutes before getting up, closing the door, and placing the money in her safe. Then she headed out into the shop. “I’m going to see my brother, Marianne. I shan’t be long.”
“Very good, Miss Trewlove.”
Once she entered the hotel, she charged up the stairs until she reached the top floor where Mick had his offices. She opened the glass door that hadTrewloveetched in it and smiled as Mr. Tittlefitz came to his feet behind his desk while she stepped over the threshold. “Miss Trewlove, how may I be of service?”
“Is my brother available?”
“For you, miss, I’m certain he is.” He hurried over to the door that led into Mick’s inner sanctum, gave a brisk knock, shoved it open, and peered inside. “Your sister wishes an audience.”
An audience? Good Lord, he acted as though her brother were a king. She couldn’t make out the words but heard the rumble of his voice. His secretary opened the door farther ajar and stepped back. After passing through the portal, she heard the door echo a quietsnickas it was closed in her wake.
Mick was already standing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I don’t think.” She approached the massive desk. “A solicitor just visited me. An anonymous person has donated five hundred pounds to my cause. I’m unsure what precisely to do with it.”
With a loud and unflattering scoff, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble figuring out what to do with the money I gave you.”
“That’s different. Your money comes in manageable increments and doesn’t make me feel guilty. But this—I don’t know who sent it. Did you mention my endeavors to anyone?”
“Only in passing to an investor or two.”
“Do you think it could have come from one of them?”
He lifted a broad shoulder. “Possibly. What does it matter, Fancy? Besides, once you marry, you’ll be asking all sorts for contributions. You’ll have more donations than you’ll know what to do with. I’m certain some will be anonymous.”
“Why? Why would he not want his contribution acknowledged?”
“Perhaps he likes to do good deeds without credit. Or he worries if his generosity is known, others will hold out their hands. Accept the gift with gratitude.”
“But I don’t know who to thank.”
“If he wanted thanks, he’d have given you his name.”
“I don’t suppose you can find out who he is.”
“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t even if I could. On occasion I’ve done things for others in secret simply because I don’t want them feeling beholden to me. Perhaps he feels the same. But whatever his reasoning, it needs to be honored.”
She sighed. He was right. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder about her mysterious benefactor. “Well, I suppose I should get back to the shop and determine how to make the most of the contribution I received.”
