Page 44 of The Wallflower Takes All

Recommend alternate solicitor.

Provide final bill and demand payment.

Conclude account upon settlement of urgent matters.

The room seemed to shift.

Conclude account.

There was a line drawn through it but still…neat as a death sentence.

Poppy drew her hand from the chair before her fingers could tighten visibly.

Mr. Ashby had not come merely to help them. He had come to set their disaster in order, tie it with string, and hand them to someone else.

Of course, he had.

Why should he not? His father had given them years of patience they could not repay. Mr. Ashby owed them nothing. Less than nothing, perhaps, given the arrears.

Still, the words stung. Another person preparing to leave once the worst of the mess had been measured.

Mr. Ashby glanced at the notebook, then back at her face. Something flickered in his eyes. He had seen what she had seen. “Miss Montfort?—”

“No.” She gave him a smile. Too bright. Too practiced. “You must not explain. It is a perfectly sensible list.”

His jaw tightened. “It was written before I fully understood the circumstances.”

“But after you understood enough.” She heard the hurt in her voice and despised it. “Forgive me. That was unfair.”

“It was not.”

She wanted to ask him whether he still meant to do it.

She also wanted very badly not to care.

Neither desire could be indulged, because Mama was in the foyer with a man who might or might not be a count, and Georgie’s dinner would not wait while Poppy nursed the foolish ache of being inconvenient even to a solicitor.

Still, she could not stop herself from making the request she had decided upon earlier. She had no other choice. She lifted her chin. “Mr. Ashby, I know this is a shocking imposition.”

His expression became guarded. “What is?”

“I need you to attend Lady Pembroke’s dinner tonight.”

For the first time since she had met him, Mr. Ashby looked genuinely startled. “Attend?”

“Yes.”

“As a guest?”

“Yes. That is…” She winced. “Not precisely.” She tipped her head toward the hall. “If Mama is determined to bring Count Bellarosa—and she is, I assure you—then I am afraid he may persuade her to act inappropriately or do something rash while I am attempting to be charming to some eligible gentleman who will no doubt flee the moment he discovers what my family considers ordinary. In short, I cannot handle Mama on my own. Not tonight.”

Mr. Ashby said nothing.

Poppy hurried on. “I know solicitors do not attend dinners merely because clients’ daughters ask them to. I know this is far outside what is proper or reasonable. And I… Oh, I ought not have asked. Please forget I did.”

“No.”

She blinked. “No?”