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The clock on Philip’s bedroom desk chimed nine times. The rain outside had been falling steadily for over an hour, striking the portico below. He barely heard it as he flipped through the papers again, searching the endless paragraphs of agreements and ship’s inventory. Everything seemed in order, but experience told Philip something about this deal wasn’t right.
‘Is everything well with you?’
Philip looked up to see Laura lingering warily in the doorway, her white cotton day dress replaced by one of lemon-yellow silk. It sat snug against her breasts and shoulders, flowing out to cover her hips and sweep the tops of her white slippers.
He set down his papers, cautious of her presence. It’d taken hours of correspondence, accounts and a meeting with Justin to settle him. It might only take a moment with Laura to undo it all. He rose and splayed his fingers on the desk as if to balance himself against any lingering anxiety, but it never came. Instead, something in him softened with her appearance, as if it’d been too long since he’d last seen her and he’d missed her company.
‘A potential client has me perplexed.’ He waved her into the room.
A small sigh of relief escaped her as she approached his desk. He couldn’t blame her for being wary. He’d fled from her in the entrance hall like a frightened debtor from the constable, then sent his excuses for missing dinner. It wasn’t Philip’s best moment. He’d enjoyed a number of poor moments since Laura’s arrival, but she wasn’t to blame. The fault was with him. ‘The man intends to import a special silk from India. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t lend him the money.’
‘But instinct is warning you off the matter.’
‘I need more than instinct. I need proof.’
‘Why? It’s your money to lend or not. Simply tell him you can’t give him what he wants, the way you told me.’ She cocked her head at the bathtub visible through the open dressing-room door.
He rewarded her slight teasing with the smallest of grins. She noted it with a subtle rise of her eyebrows. ‘It may be that simple, but I prefer to make decisions based on evidence, not suspicion.’
‘Perhaps I can help you?’
‘If you’d like.’ He handed her the papers. ‘Read these and see if anything strikes you as odd.’
She sat in one of the upholstered wingbacks flanking the window and set the documents on her lap to review. Beneath the parchment, the yellow silk flowed over her long legs, brushing the slender ankles crossed beneath the chair. Philip tried not to stare as he settled in the chair across from hers. He was glad his actions in the entrance hall this evening hadn’t made her shy with him. It spoke to her courage and her concern, something he found endearing and as unsettling as his desire to watch her.
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