Page 58 of The Wallflower Takes All

“You are a terrible liar for a man who values truth. You disapprove very much.”

He was quiet long enough that she thought he would not answer. Then he said, “My father has a generous heart. Too generous, at times. He allows people too near. He mistakes affection for obligation.”

Poppy felt the words too sharply. “And you do not?”

“I try not to.”

“Because you think affection clouds judgment.”

“Because I know it does.”

His answer was calm. Certain. Sad, perhaps, though Poppy did not think he knew that.

She studied him in the dim light, this careful man with his emotions held behind every button of his coat, this man who had come to a dinner he did not wish to attend because she had asked him to protect her mother from herself. He might not be charming, but he was certainly kind.

“Is that why you intended to be rid of us?” she asked quietly.

The words escaped softly. No accusation. Or not much of one. Only the question that had been sitting in her chest since she had seen his notebook.

Mr. Ashby went still. Then, very slowly, he said, “I ought to have closed the notebook.”

“I ought not to have looked.”

“You did not look deliberately.”

“No.” She managed a small smile. “I stumbled into humiliation by accident, which is my preferred method.”

His face stayed severe, and if anything, the expression deepened. After a moment, she understood that the judgment in it was aimed at himself rather than at her.

“That list was written before I understood the full circumstances,” he said.

“But after you understood enough to know we were a great deal of trouble.” The hint of a smile remained on her lips.

“Yes.”

More honesty. It stung. But it also steadied her. “Thank you for not pretending otherwise.”

“I do not wish to leave Lady Montague without proper counsel,” he said.

“Or me?”

The question should not have left her mouth.

Mr. Ashby’s gaze sharpened. For one breath, he said nothing. Then, quietly, “Or you.”

Two words. Not careful enough.

Poppy looked at him. “You do not owe us more counsel,” she said.

“No.”

“You do not owe us anything, really.”

“That is not true.”

“It is. We owe you, in fact.”

“Ashby and Son is not the only account that matters.”