Mr. Donahue's Total Surrender by Sophie Barnes

Author:Sophie Barnes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sophie Barnes

16

The next day, Steven rose earlier than usual so he could get as much work as possible done before luncheon, hoping this would permit him to spend another afternoon in Miss Faulkner’s company. He’d enjoyed yesterday’s outing immensely and with the date of her departure drawing nearer, he did not wish to squander the limited time they had left together.

So he started by gathering the previous day’s receipts and by reviewing Mr. Pontoppidan’s ledger, which had been delivered to him by the man himself the previous evening. This was customary – a habit that had begun with Mr. Greene – since the manager often paid for deliveries himself while also noting Mrs. Elkins’s purchases below stairs.

This system provided Steven with an excellent form of cross reference. When he reviewed the cook’s ledger, every item listed therein ought to be mentioned in the manager’s. If it wasn’t, the numbers wouldn’t add up, and right now, after staring at the neat rows of penmanship Mr. Pontoppidan had written and then at Mrs. Elkins’s for the better part of an hour, Steven was forced to admit that the sums didn’t tally.

Steven pulled out his own ledger and compared the price he’d listed for ten crates of wine delivered the day before yesterday. In his ledger the amount was fifteen pounds, but Mr. Pontoppidan had written thirteen, creating a clear discrepancy. And this was not the only place where the numbers differed.

Expelling a heavy breath, Steven called for a maid to bring him a large pot of coffee, then started reviewing. He’d have to go over every purchase made since Pontoppidan started his employment four days earlier, and then he’d have to get to the bottom of the cause. Which meant he would likely be stuck in this office all day.

Irritated, he crossed to his filing cabinet and retrieved the receipts and credit notes that had been compiled during the past week. Mr. Greene might have been a disagreeable person, but damn if he hadn’t been meticulous with regard to keeping accounts.

Two hours later, after using five pieces of paper to jot down every purchase made since he’d hired the new manager, one thing was clear: the numbers were off by nearly one hundred pounds. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was almost nine o’clock and he’d not yet begun the updates he’d intended to make to his own accounts – a task he’d hoped to have finished by now so he could spend the rest of the morning on his correspondence.

Hell and blast. He was meant to write Mr. Gregorson of Bath, the foreman he’d hired to see to his new building there. Plans had to be approved, a few sketches made for clarification, and notes added. Now it would have to wait. So would everything else, including Miss Faulkner.

Steven cursed beneath his breath and stood. He rolled his shoulders, gave the pile of open ledgers a disgruntled glare, and crossed to the bell pull. It was time for him to address this mess with the man responsible for it.

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