I sit up straighter in my chair, my stomach buzzing with excitement. Or is it trepidation? “Mr. Rochester, I think it’s time.”
“For what?”
“To invite Imogen Coleman to meet you.”
He blinks a few times, then frowns at the fire. “All right. That’s your phase two, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I was just planning it out when you came in. I think we should host a casual dinner party.”
His head swivels back to me, eyes wide. “A dinner party? Does that mean…more than just the human girl?”
“Trust me, I’m not any more pleased about that than you are, but yes. I think, to impress her, we should host a dinner with a small selection of important families. I’ll ask Imogen to decide who to invite, so that she feels like she’s been given a distinguished task. What it will really do is make her recognize her own desire and possessiveness when she finds herself excluding any eligible young women to compete with.”
He groans. “How many guests are you subjecting me to?”
I lean forward, my tone placating. “I’ll tell her no more than three families. She’ll bring the most tiresome and uninteresting people in town, only to make her own family look better. It will be the most boring dinner imaginable.”
“Boring. Well, that’s selling it.”
“Boring is good. It will allow you to dazzle Imogen with very little effort.”
He releases a sigh. “Fine. I take it you’ve already considered cost—”
“Don’t worry. I won’t go overboard with the budget. Like I already told you. I know how to handle these things. We’ll utilize minimal staff, have Bertha cook, and none will be the wiser. Oh, and speaking of budgets.” I rise from my seat and fetch Foxglove’s bill from the bureau. When I return to the sitting area, I stand before him and hand over the envelope.
“What is this?” he asks, tearing open the seal.
“That’s this week’s bill for the renovations and decor. Do not be alarmed. This will be the highest bill of all. After this, very little expenses will be required to maintain the manor.”
“Freezing hell,” he says, tipping his head back. “How many rooms did you have him redecorate?”
“Not many,” I say with a grimace. “I’ll show you everything. You’ll appreciate it once you see it.”
He rises, securing his staff beneath his arm, and heads for the door. “I doubt that.”
“Where are you going?”
“Where do you think? If I’m supposed to pay this ridiculous sum, I’ll need to fetch it from the vault.”
I follow after him. “I’ll come with you.”
He stops and whirls to face me. “No.”
I’m surprised by his reaction. “Mr. Rochester, it makes sense for me to know where your vault is. Since I’m in charge of your ledgers, I should also be in charge of auditing the vault and paying the staff.”
“I can handle that just fine.”
“But you don’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Oh, is it?” He laughs, but there’s no amusement in his eyes, only scorn.
“Yes,” I say. “I bargained to be your house steward because it’s a job I’m good at. I’m—”
“Don’t think I haven’t figured it out,” he says, voice firm, cold. “Don’t think Gray hasn’t told me how many times you’ve asked where my vault is. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that neither she nor anyone else in the manor will tell you.”
My pulse begins to race as a creeping dread churns in my stomach. “I don’t understand.”
“I think you do, Miss Bellefleur. I know you seek to assure your success, but you should also know that I will do the same.”
