Page 4 of A Modest Independence

“Yes, but…it’s snowing out. Not ideal weather for making the journey to London. You’d have been better off delaying. Whatever you wish to do with the money Lady Helena has given you can surely wait until spring.”

She lowered her teacup back to its saucer. “It’s not winter everywhere in the world, sir.”

“Ah.” He leaned back in his chair. “You wish to travel.”

“Yes. I wish to…that is…I intend to leave for India without delay.”

If he was surprised by her revelation, he didn’t show it.

She pressed on. “I’ve already obtained my travel documents. The only difficulty lies in my need for ready funds. Since Helena has appointed you guardian over my money, it seems I must apply to you for my needs. Though I must say I find it rather an inconvenience.”

Mr. Finchley continued to look at her, his regard never wavering. “Why India?”

“Am I obliged to explain myself to you? Is that how this works?”

“You owe me no explanations. I’m neither your father, nor your brother to command one. However, Lady Helena has reposed certain obligations in me as trustee—”

“Not because of any concerns about my capacity for managing my own money. You realize that, don’t you? It’s only because I’m her closest friend and you’re Mr. Thornhill’s. She wishes us to get along together.”

“I wish the same,” he said.

“Do you?” After the antics of his last client, she supposed he must expect her to rage at him. To lose her temper and storm about his office. As if she would ever make herself so ridiculous.

“Yes, I do. But you’re obviously still angry with me.”

Jenny’s temper flared. He was so calm. So infuriatingly steady and reasonable. Did nothing in the world rattle his resolve?

Well, he’d soon learn that her resolve was just as unshakable as his own.

“Not any longer,” she said. “Not even then, really.”

“No?”

“If I was angry with anyone, it was with myself. I trusted you too easily.”

“And I breached that trust, did I? Simply by counseling Thornhill on how he might annul his marriage? He was my client, Miss Holloway. He still is.”

“Yes, yes, I understand. The solicitor-client relationship is sacrosanct. But it doesn’t follow that you needed to squire me about town as if you were enjoying my company. To talk with me and dance with me as if you were my friend, when all the while you—”

“I am your friend.”

Jenny was horrified to feel her lips tremble. She told herself to turn the subject. There was no point in confronting any of this head-on. It surely didn’t matter anymore. And yet…

She was incapable of holding her tongue.

“I thought you were,” she said. “But when I looked into your eyes that day outside the house in Half Moon Street, I didn’t see a friend looking back at me. I saw a stranger. A man who would do anything to achieve his ends—and those of his client.”

“I won’t dispute the latter. It’s who I am. My clients must always come first. Before friends and family. Even before myself.” He paused. “I apologize if I hurt you in the process. It wasn’t my intention.”

Her gaze dropped to the contents of her teacup. She didn’t know what to do with his apology. She wasn’t certain he meant it. For all she knew it was nothing more than a gentlemanly platitude uttered to placate her. “It doesn’t matter.” Good lord, now her voice was trembling as well. She cleared her throat, striving to make her next words as brisk and businesslike as possible. “It isn’t as if there’s a need for us to cry friends. Indeed, once you’ve released my funds, I don’t expect we’ll have any cause to see each other again.”

Mr. Finchley was silent for a long moment.

And then another.

Jenny’s stomach tightened with apprehension. “Is there a difficulty with you giving me my money? I don’t require the entire balance. I only need enough for travel expenses.”

“Are these travel expenses for you alone?”