Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

T he clicking of shoes echoed behind Edwin, drawing his attention. He looked over his shoulder to find Hanna standing in the doorway, a hesitant look on her face.

“Hanna,” he said, his tone softening despite his confusion. “Are you retiring for the night?”

“No,” she replied, standing a little straighter. “I overheard your conversation.” She paused, glancing at Martin briefly before continuing. “I could not help it, as I was right there in the drawing room. And… I think I know the solution.”

Martin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You know the solution, Your Grace?” His voice was high-pitched, tinged with disbelief. “Do tell.”

Edwin heard the faint mockery in his friend’s tone, and without thinking, he kicked Martin under the table.

Martin winced, shooting him a glare before muttering, “What was that for?”

Edwin ignored him, turning his full attention to Hanna. “I beg your pardon, Hanna. I didn’t know you were well-versed in matters of finance,” he said, genuinely curious but not without the caution of someone trying to bridge a delicate situation.

Hanna shrugged. “As you know,” she began. “My father had several business ventures, many in import and export. His ledgers were often in disarray, and as he trusted no one but himself to oversee the books, he would occasionally seek my help. He didn’t exactly encourage it—believing it to be beneath me, of course—but whenever he was at his wits’ end, he’d allow me to enter receipts or check figures. It became something of a puzzle to me, one I enjoyed, though he refused to allow me any formal instruction.”

Edwin’s interest deepened as she spoke. This wasn’t a mere passing curiosity on her part—this was someone who had a real understanding of business and numbers. A flicker of hope sparked inside him. If Hanna truly possessed such insight, then she could prove a valuable ally, not only in their household but possibly in navigating the complexities of her father’s affairs, which could help prove Benjamin’s innocence.

But first, Edwin needed to be sure.

“You believe you know what the issue is?” he asked carefully, keeping his tone neutral.

Martin interjected before she could respond, shaking his head. “Crawford is the issue,” he grumbled. “Always has been.”

Hanna’s gaze flickered toward him, her expression unreadable. “Respectfully, I disagree,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.

She stepped closer to the table and leaned over the ledger, her movements tentative but steady. A lock of her hair slipped free, brushing against Edwin’s shoulder as she reached for the book. He caught the faint scent of oranges and vanilla, which stirred something unexpected inside him, but he quickly suppressed it.

“May I?” she asked, gesturing toward the ledger.

“Of course,” Edwin replied, pushing it toward her with an encouraging nod.

Hanna began leafing through the pages with a practiced hand, her brow furrowing in concentration. Edwin couldn’t help but watch her closely, noticing how the flickering candlelight illuminated her features. The smoothness of her skin, the slight upturn of her nose, and the way she was utterly absorbed in the numbers in front of her made him see her in a new light.

She wasn’t just the uncertain young woman he had hastily married—there was depth here, intelligence, and, most surprisingly, an unexpected practicality.

After a few moments of silent examination, Hanna glanced up. “It’s just as I thought,” she said, and Edwin noted the quiet confidence in her voice. “You’ve entered the tariffs into the wrong column for at least the last year. This has created the appearance of discrepancies, when, in reality, it’s just an error in accounting. The issue isn’t with the shipments themselves—it’s how the duties and tariffs have been recorded. When goods are shipped internationally, duties are charged at both the port of departure and upon entry. It seems these charges were mistakenly entered twice.”

Martin let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair. “Tariffs entered twice? Well, that would explain the missing money,” he remarked, though there was a note of incredulity in his voice.

“Exactly,” Hanna confirmed. “And if you look here”—she pointed to a specific receipt—“this document from your Spanish supplier notes that one of the wines was unavailable. It says so clearly, but the payment was still recorded as if it had been received.”

Martin took the receipt from her hand, squinting as he scanned the text. “So, they’ve been charging us for wine they haven’t sent? Cheating us?”

“Not necessarily.” Hanna shook her head. “If you look closely, you’ll see that the bottom of the page notes ‘page one of two.’ This suggests there’s a second page that accompanies it, which likely explains when the missing wine will arrive.”

Martin looked at Edwin, who immediately sifted through the stack of documents.

“Here it is,” Edwin said, pulling out the second page triumphantly. He turned it over, attempting to read its content. “It says…”

Hanna leaned in again, gently taking the paper from him. “It says that the wine you’re missing will be included in the next shipment, which is due to arrive within the week. So, you see, no one is cheating you. But it might be wise to hire someone who can read Spanish.”

“Why waste money hiring someone,” Martin interjected with a chuckle, “when you’re evidently so good at it, Your Grace?”

Hanna smiled faintly at his jest but maintained her composure. “I would be happy to help if you need me,” she offered earnestly, her eyes meeting Edwin’s.

Edwin felt a strange sense of pride swell in his chest as he looked at her. “Thank you, Hanna. Your help has been invaluable tonight. We will certainly make use of your talents.”

For the first time, he felt genuine gratitude toward her, not just for what she’d done with the ledger, but for showing him a side of her he hadn’t expected. She wasn’t the fragile, distant woman he had imagined. There was strength in her, and maybe even a willingness to stand by his side.

As Hanna excused herself for the night, Edwin’s eyes followed her—he realized that there was far more to his wife than he had initially thought.

When the door closed behind her, Martin let out a low chuckle. “Well, well,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “You’ve married a gem, old friend. Who would’ve thought she has such a sharp mind?”

Edwin didn’t respond immediately, his thoughts still lingering on Hanna’s words and her quiet confidence.

“Yes,” he said slowly, more to himself than to Martin. “Who would have thought, indeed.”

Hanna ascended the staircase to her chamber with a sense of lightness she hadn’t felt in some time. Assisting Edwin and Martin with the ledger issue had brought her a quiet satisfaction, and even more gratifying was the fact that they had appeared to genuinely appreciate her input—especially Edwin.

In the past, her efforts to help her father had rarely been met with such recognition. While he had sometimes accepted her assistance, the Earl would inevitably take credit for her ideas. If she made a suggestion, it became his. If she corrected a mistake in his books, he would claim it was merely an oversight on his part, now rectified by his own hand. On darker days, he would accuse her of making errors and chase her out of his study, only for her to later discover that he had quietly made the very corrections she had suggested.

But Edwin had not dismissed her, nor had he claimed her discovery as his own. He had acknowledged her contribution with sincerity, and hearing that acknowledgment felt as if a weight had been lifted from her.

As Hanna reached the top of the stairs, she turned down the hall, her eyes falling on Ruby. The hound was lying dejectedly on the other side of the gate Edwin had installed. He barely lifted his head as Hanna approached, only emitting a soft, miserable whine.

Hanna paused, guilt gnawing at her as she gazed at the animal. She knew she was the reason Ruby had been confined, shut away from the rest of the house. The dog had done nothing wrong, yet here he was, locked behind a barrier because of Hanna’s fears.

Hanna hesitated for a moment before she moved toward Ruby and crouched down on the other side of the gate.

“Hello,” she said softly, unsure if she was addressing the dog or simply voicing her thoughts. “I suppose you don’t like being locked up, do you?”

Ruby responded by pressing his nose through the bars, cautiously sniffing Hanna’s outstretched hand. Hanna froze for a moment, remembering how Harry had once taught her that animals used their noses to become familiar with people. She had always been comfortable around horses, but dogs—dogs had always unnerved her with their sharp teeth, their barks, their strength.

Tentatively, she allowed Ruby’s cold, wet nose to brush against her fingers.

“So this is why they call you wet nose, hm?” she murmured with a faint smile.

The hound pushed further against the bars, prompting Hanna to reach through and gently stroke his ears. He let out a soft, pleased whine, causing her fear to waver just slightly.

“I’m sorry that I’m the reason you’re locked up,” Hanna continued, her voice low. “You see, I’m scared. I’ve always been scared of dogs like you. You’re so strong, with your loud barks and sharp teeth. It frightens me.”

She paused, realizing that in truth, she was talking more to herself than to the dog. Then she shifted into a sitting position and reached her hand through the bars so she could pet Ruby more comfortably. The dog, sensing her hesitation, sat down and leaned into her touch, allowing her to run her hand over his sleek, soft fur.

“I hear you used to belong to Benjamin,” Hanna said quietly, testing the waters.

At the mention of Benjamin’s name, Ruby’s ears perked up, and his eyes opened wide, recognition sparking in them.

“You remember him, don’t you? Your old master,” Hanna continued, her voice softening.

Ruby let out another soft whine, his body shifting as though seeking comfort at the sound of a familiar name.

“You must miss him very much.” Hanna paused, her thoughts swirling. “And yet, you seem fond of Edwin now. Would you be fond of him if he had done something so terrible like… hurting Benjamin?”

The question hung in the air, directed to herself and the dog. If anyone had been watching her talk this way to a hound, they might have thought her quite mad. And yet, there was something about the creature’s loyalty, his simple responses to those he trusted, that made Hanna wonder.

Could a dog truly sense the nature of a person? Was it possible that Ruby, who had known both Benjamin and Edwin, could distinguish between right and wrong, between kindness and cruelty? Hanna knew that horses often sensed a rider’s fear or a handler’s temperament—why should dogs not possess a similar intuition?

Her mind turned over the thought, considering it. Could Ruby be trusted to judge Edwin’s character better than she could? And if the dog trusted him, what did that mean for Hanna’s doubts?

For a fleeting moment, Hanna considered opening the gate and letting Ruby out. She had made some progress with her fear, after all, hadn’t she? Yet, as she considered the idea of being in a room with the dog unrestrained, she hesitated. Perhaps another time, when she felt more certain, more at ease. For now, she wasn’t ready.

With a sigh, she rose from the floor. “I’ll leave you to your rest, Ruby,” she said softly, running her hand one last time over the dog’s fur before stepping away. “Goodnight.”

Ruby lay back down with a soft grunt as Hanna continued down the hall, leaving the hound behind the gate once more.

Entering her chamber, Hanna moved toward her desk, where the flickering light from the gas lamps cast a soft glow over her things. She extinguished the lamps, letting the room fall into a quiet dimness. Sitting at her desk, she thought back to the conversation she had shared with Emma before the wedding.

Emma had warned her not to believe every rumor, not to trust everything she read or heard. Was she right? Hanna wondered.

Perhaps. But then again, what did she truly know about Edwin? About the man she had married under such strange circumstances? Her sister’s advice was wise, no doubt, but the truth was that Hanna didn’t have enough information yet to make her own judgment. She had caught glimpses of kindness in Edwin, of patience and even admiration. And yet, the lingering questions about Benjamin’s death clouded her thoughts.

She didn’t know what to believe.

Hanna sighed, rising to prepare herself for bed. Tomorrow would bring another day, and perhaps, in time, more answers would reveal themselves. Until then, she would have to be patient and remain vigilant. And perhaps she would slowly begin to unravel the mystery that was her new husband—whether he truly was the man she feared or the one she hoped he might be.