“You mean the kiss.”
Her blush deepened. “Must you say it aloud?”
“Would you prefer I mime it?”
“I would prefer we both pretend it never happened and return to our previous arrangement of polite civility.”
“That seems monumentally dull.” He took another step forward. “And rather difficult, considering I have not been able to stop thinking about it for three days.”
“August—”
“But we shall return to that in a moment. First, I have a question for you.”
She looked wary. “What sort of question?”
“The sort that requires an honest answer.” He pulled the folded ledger page from his pocket. “I found a discrepancy in the household accounts. A substantial sum paid to a seamstress on Chancery Lane. Mrs. Fulham. Do you remember?”
Her expression shuttered. “I remember.”
“When I asked Mrs. Finch about it, she said you had personally arranged the payment and insisted it be handled with the utmost discretion.” He unfolded the page. “And now, I find that the money has been returned with a notation in your hand stating it was a personal loan.”
“That is correct.”
“Eliza, what did you need the money for?”
“That is my concern.”
“It is household funds. That makes it rather my concern as well.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I borrowed it. I returned it. There is nothing more to discuss.”
“Is there not?” He took another step forward, and she took a corresponding step back. “Because I find myself wondering what sort of personal matter requires the services of a discreet seamstress and a loan of that size.”
“It is not what you think.”
“I have not told you what I think.”
“You do not need to. I can see it in your face.” She backed up another step and found herself against the arm of the chair behind her. “Whatever suspicions you have concocted, they are wrong.”
“Then enlighten me.” He closed the remaining distance between them, not quite touching but near enough that he could see the pulse jumping at the base of her throat. “Tell me what I am thinking, and I shall tell you if you are correct.”
“You think I have been secretive. That I have been using household funds for some nefarious purpose.”
“Nefarious is a rather strong word.”
“But accurate, judging by your tone.”
“My tone is simply curious.” He leaned in slightly. “Though I confess, your refusal to answer a simple question does strain one’s imagination.”
She pressed back against the chair, her hands gripping the armrest. “There is nothing to tell. I needed the money, I borrowed it, I returned it. The matter is settled.”
“Is it?” He placed one hand on the armrest beside her then the other on the other, effectively caging her in. “Because I also noticed you have been leaving the house at dawn. Walking to the village. Mrs. Finch says you go out alone, without the carriage, and return hours later.”
Her eyes went wide. “You have been having me watched?”
“I have been noticing your absence at breakfast. There is a difference.”
“That is semantics.”