Extract
‘Our business is concluded, sir. I have made my decision.’
Faye Shawcross abruptly stood up. The sauce of the man! Not only had he advised her to invest in a financial plan that had failed dismally, but he wanted to persuade her to plough what money remained to her into another of his schemes. When she had received his note yesterday, requesting an audience, she had believed he intended to come and beg forgiveness for letting her down so badly. She had even harboured a hope that he might speak of recompense. Not so much of it! Barely had he settled on a chair before proffering a new parchment for signature as though she were a gullible fool.
‘I do not want to seem dictatorial, Miss Shawcross, but I beg you will reconsider my proposal. I’m sure your fiancé would direct you to listen to me, were he here.’
‘But he is not, and neither is his presence required. I need no further time, or advice, sir. I have clearly said I have made my decision and have terminated my contract with you. Goodbye.’
A moment ago Faye had employed the small brass bell on the table by her side; her housekeeper had promptly appeared and was now hovering, awaiting an instruction.
‘Mr Westwood is leaving, Mrs Gideon.’
A barking cough from the servant reminded the man she was ready to show him out.
Westwood had sprung to his feet as Miss Shawcross did, an angry blush burning in his cheeks at her curt dismissal; but he managed to jerk a bow. ‘As you wish; but I make no apology for striving to assist you in restoring your fortunes.’
‘Perhaps you might instead like to apologise for having depleted them in the first place,’ Faye replied coolly, anger and impatience sparking green fire in her eyes.
‘I mentioned to you there was a risk attached,’ he intoned piously.
‘But not quite as fulsomely as you bade me to pay no heed to it. Had I an inkling that my money might disappear within a short while of you handling it, sir, I would not have listened to a word you uttered.’
Westwood’s eyes popped, but Faye was not intimidated by his display of fury. She indicated he should leave with a nod.
Barely had the parlour door closed on his ramrod-straight back when it again opened and a boy hurtled over the threshold.
‘Are we poor?’
‘Of course not, my dear.’ Faye held out her arms to her half-brother, catching Michael into her embrace. ‘We are just not quite as well off as once we were.’
‘I can still go to school in Warwick?’
‘Indeed you can! And I hope to have some better reports from your headmaster when you return in the autumn, young man.’
