“I’ll come after I teach the orphans in the morning. Mrs. Merriweather can help by covering for me in case any word arrives regarding my mother or father.”
“If you come here, your reputation could be ruined. I’ll not have the newsboys hawking”
“The devil with it. I’m tired of playing by the rules, especially when I can use my talents to help someone.”
His grin could not be contained. “You would do that for me?”
“I believe in your vision, and I want to make that vision possible,” Elizabeth said, leaning forward in turn, so their heads almost met. “I must tell you that what I’ve discovered is disheartening. Your financial statements show that you have much less than what appears in your assets. It’s as if your bookkeeper were setting you up for failure, and if my figures are correct embezzling your funds.”
Zachary groaned and scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “He came highly recommended…Dyer’s man.”
Elizabeth widened her eyes. “In that case, I must resolve the problem.”
“What you’ve done is a gift. Your mathematical acumen is amazing.”
She warmed to his praises. “I thank you for the compliment. My father never said one thing about my abilities. In fact, he frowned upon it.”
“He should have respected your talents and brought you closer to his business.”
She sighed. “A shame I wasn’t a boy.”
He looked her over from head to toe. “I’m very glad you are not a boy.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Elizabeth came daily, a bright spot in Zachary’s day. With Elizabeth he started to connect more with people. She didn’t let him pull away like he did in the past.
Her face had ink spots. How enchanting she was.
“I’ve been battling with these accounts since nine o’clock this morning.” She twiddled the fountain pen, earning a stain of inkblots. “I’ve discovered the bookkeeper was creating fake sales receipts to artificially inflate revenue,” she said looking up from the minefield of ledgers.
“That bad.”
She reared her head. “I’m doing my best with the chaos of your accounts not to fall into a coma.”
“Miss Spencer, I find you impertinent, stubborn and steadfast. I find it incomprehensible why you help me.”
“I find you humorless and my life’s goal will be to put a smile on your face.”
“Is that all?” He took out a handkerchief and wiped a smudge of ink from her face. He liked the blush that stole across her face.
She cleared her throat. “You are the underdog against Goliaths. Most of all, you need a friend, and if I don’t do this, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“I must say I love how your spar with me over accounts with that brilliant business expertise of yours.”
“Is that all?” she mimicked.
“You are seeking compliments, Miss Spencer. I must say I like the way you question me with the different ways you consider things.”
“Who knows, maybe someday, you’ll invite me to help run your business.”
“Be careful or I’ll send you back to your mother and infinite tea parties.”
“You are a despot.” Her words were cut off by the chiming of a Bedford clock, and she slid off her stool and moved to the drafting tables. “I’d like you to show me your plans.”
“When inventing, I must get used to sometimes being ignored and almost always to be considered with indifference. It’s a work hazard.”
She pressed her lips together. “I’ll decide that.”
