Caroline had come close enough to hear. "William, surely Miss Parker has arrangements."
His head turned slightly. The use of his Christian name had apparently purchased Caroline no special privilege. "Miss Parker can tell me her arrangements herself."
Evelyn suppressed an inappropriate urge to smile. "My arrangement was to deliver these papers and return before my aunt begins reorganizing the household from her sickbed."
"A formidable woman."
"You have no idea."
"Then send her a note. My carriage can take it." He gestured toward the drawing room. "Half an hour."
Evelyn studied him. "Why?"
William's attention sharpened. "Why what?"
"Why insist that I stay?"
For the first time, he hesitated. A clock ticked somewhere beyond the hall. "Because I received your letter."
"That explains why you know my name. It does not explain tea."
His eyes warmed with something she could not quite identify. "No, I suppose it does not."
He led her into the drawing room before she could press him. Conversations faltered with almost comic precision. A dozen well-dressed women occupied chairs and sofas arranged around the fire. Evelyn recognized several names before introductions were made, including women whose mothers had been discussing the unmarried Duke of Westbridge as though he were an estate coming to auction.
William indicated an empty chair near the hearth—not hidden near the wall, not beside the door. Near him.
"Miss Evelyn Parker will be joining us."
Lady Caroline sat opposite. "How fortunate."
Evelyn removed her gloves finger by finger. "That remains to be seen."
William looked down, concealing a smile behind his teacup.
For twenty minutes, Evelyn endured questions dressed as courtesy: Was she staying long? No. Did she often assist her aunt? Yes. Had she never married? Apparently, the absence of a husband beside her was insufficient evidence.
William said little. Yet, whenever Evelyn looked up, she found his attention returning to her.
Finally, she leaned slightly toward him. "You are staring, Your Grace."
"Observing."
"That is staring with better breathing."
His quiet laugh drew three immediate glances.
Then a servant appeared at the doorway with a worried woman in a worn blue dress behind him. "Your Grace, forgive me. Mrs. Foster has come regarding the relief fund. She says her allowance has been refused again."
William's expression changed. Evelyn looked toward the woman. Mrs. Foster clutched a folded notice in both hands. One corner bore a small black mark Evelyn recognized immediately from the committee papers beneath her arm.
She set down her cup. "Your Grace," she said quietly. "Before you send her away, I think you should look at that mark."
William's gaze dropped to the notice in Mrs. Foster's hands. "Bring it here."
The woman approached as though the carpet itself belonged to a class above her. Evelyn rose before anyone could tell her not to. Mrs. Foster gave the paper to William, but Evelyn pointed to the black mark in the lower corner.
"That symbol means the application was rejected as incomplete."
William looked at her. "You know that from one glance?"
"From your committee forms." She opened the packet her aunt had sent and removed the top sheet. "The same mark appears beside applications missing proof of tenancy or household income."
Lady Caroline shifted in her chair. "Surely His Grace's staff understands its own system."
Evelyn did not look at her. "Then this should be easily explained."
William handed Mrs. Foster's notice to Evelyn. "Explain it."
The room became very quiet. Evelyn compared the papers. Mrs. Foster's application number was written beneath the mark. She searched the committee list until she found the matching entry.
"Widowed?" Evelyn asked.
"Three years, miss."
"Two children?"
"Yes."
"And you submitted your tenancy certificate?"
Mrs. Foster nodded quickly. "Mr. Bellamy took it himself."
Evelyn's finger stopped halfway down the page. "Here."
William moved beside her. His sleeve nearly brushed hers. "What?"
"Her application is recorded twice." Evelyn tapped two lines. "Once as complete, once as incomplete."
William's jaw tightened. "Which entry came first?"
"The approved one." She traced the dates. "Five days earlier."
Mrs. Foster's breath caught. "I was told there was no money left."
William looked up sharply. "Who told you that?"
"Mr. Bellamy's clerk, Your Grace."
The fire crackled behind them. Evelyn felt the drawing room change around her; this was no longer entertainment for bored guests.
William took the list from her, his eyes moving over the entries. "The fund is not exhausted."
"I know," Evelyn said.
Caroline gave a small, incredulous laugh. "You corrected the Duke rather confidently."
Evelyn finally turned toward her. "I was correcting the record."
William's mouth twitched. "A distinction I appreciate." He faced Mrs. Foster. "You will not leave without an answer. Sit by the fire while this is checked."
Mrs. Foster stared at the upholstered chair as if it were another forbidden door. Evelyn pulled it out for her. After a hesitation, the woman sat.
William watched Evelyn do it. Not the chair, not Mrs. Foster—Evelyn.
She became aware of his attention and straightened. "What?"
"Nothing."
"That is plainly untrue."
"You object to being observed only when the observer refuses to explain himself." His gaze held hers for a beat too long. "I am beginning to understand why your letter had no compliments in it."
"Would one have improved the arithmetic?"
A quiet laugh escaped him. Across the room, Caroline set down her teacup harder than necessary.
William turned to the footman. "Ask Mr. Bellamy to bring the relief ledger to my study."
The servant bowed and left. Evelyn began returning the papers to her aunt's packet. "You will want your secretary for this."
"I want you."
Her hand stopped. William seemed to hear his own words a moment after everyone else did. Several women suddenly developed intense interest in their tea.
He continued more carefully: "You identified the error. I would like you present while we examine it."
"Your Grace, I am not employed by your estate."
"No."