Elizabeth grabbed the receipt pile, laying down each, one by one. “This is a charge. This is a payment. What you have done is a breach of trust and I believe intentional. No one could be this stupid.”
“Why, I never?—”
“I agree,” she said. “Never had a brain in your head or—you are a liar.”
The little man dared to look her up and down. “I won’t tolerate a woman come to service the needs of Mr. Rourke.”
With one punch, Zachary knocked the bookkeeper off his perch, picked him up by the collar and threw him down the stairs. “You’re fired!”
Elizabeth widened her eyes and attempted to catch her breath at how quickly Zachary had dispatched his accountant. “Thank you.”
“You shouldn’t be here. New Yorkers seek out scandal as avariciously as they chase profits. You know better than me, whenever there is scandal about, New York society will pounce on it. Devour it. Shun the object of the scandal. Elizabeth, theywould make you an outcast. You must stay away. It is the only way I can protect you.”
“I came in a closed carriage and Fiona is with me albeit she is visiting with Mr. O’Reilly. My parents are in Rhode Island for the next month, so I have some latitude.
He drifted over by the tall windows, the morning sun sought him as if to confer a special favor, burnished the deep raw umber of his hair, slid light into the depths of it. When he straightened, lifting his eyes–oh, really, such handsome lashes.
“How is business?” She sauntered around his office, her gaze going over the bed in the other room. Her cheeks heated, and then she turned to him.
“Everything is going wrong. Money is short. Deadline due for payment. Your father and Dyer, a looming threat with both swooping in and taking everything. My first machine arrived at one customer, enough to bail me out, only to find out he didn’t have the money. There is theft. Delays. One nightmare after another.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why are you here?”
Elizabeth didn’t dare burden him with her problems. He had enough to deal with. “Nothing significant,” she said. “I thought I’d drop by after visiting Caroline.” She walked to the viewing window overlooking the plant where men labored building his engines. She had slowed the duke’s advantageous marriage and her mother’s aggressive machinations by going to her father. Affairs were delayed during the hot month of August while the family was off to their summer Rhode Island estate. Elizabeth was excused with her charity work at the orphanage.
He angled his handsome head. “I think there is something.”
She couldn’t fool him for one second. “There is that, but nothing I can’t take care of.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I need a bookkeeper and one that I can trust. It is impossible for me to do everything. I need a miracle.”
“I’ll be your miracle. I’ll be your bookkeeper.”
Zachary cocked his head. “Are you kidding?”
“I’m not prone to vapors, and I can certainly do the books, even better than most men.” She huffed past him in a swirl of skirts, joined him at the accountant’s desk, glancing at the accounts and frowning with disapproval. Elizabeth fussed a moment with one of the rows of pleated ruching that circled the skirt of her pale green dress, letting her fingers slide over the soft cotton dimity made practical by the warm weather of late August. “I am more than qualified to do your bookkeeping. For years, I worked on many of my father’s very private books. Let’s start working.”
“Do your magic.”
He seated her and she tugged off her gloves off, picking up a fountain pen and dabbing it in the ink. Shoulder to shoulder, he stayed with her as she made entries, explaining her organization.
He cleared his throat. “I saw O’Reilly happy as a clam with Fiona.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Those two. Like surviving the War Between the States. O’Reilly’s quick humor averts disaster with Fiona every time. I do think he lives to goad her.”
“O’Reilly’s clever witticisms provide an invaluable balm to survive the layout of machinery and making things work. He makes a bad day always good.”
For hours, she pored over the books, straightening his accounts. He came in and out of the office, attending to building his machines, and then listening to her explain the efficiencies of how she was reconciling his accounts. Her fingers were splattered with ink. She bit her lip and tapped her finger on the ledger.
“Out with it,” he commanded.
“You want the good news or the bad news.”
“Everything.”
She took a deep breath. “That’s good because it is all bad news.”
She paused before speaking. “Your bookkeeper was sloppy, missing and miscalculating expenses, even the smallest financial details are amiss.” She blew out a breath. “I’ve hit the tip of the iceberg, logging and organizing all your financial transactions.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I need someone with your talent daily, and someone I can have confidence in.”
