Chapter 36
Calvin’s face flushed. “I am not lying in bed while he walks in here.”
Mercer turned from the window. “Yes, you are.”
Calvin pointed at him. “You are enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
The knock came before Calvin could answer.
Three measured strikes.
Henrietta straightened. She had worn a dark wool dress that morning because it was warmer than the finer clothes her father had packed for her, and because the wide front pockets could hold a pencil, folded papers, and the small notebook in which she had copied the most important figures. She smoothed the skirt once, more from thought than vanity, then reached for her cane.
“Let him in,” Calvin said.
Henrietta glanced at him. “I was going to.”
“No. I mean let him speak.”
She studied his face. Pain had hollowed it since the ravine, but something else had changed there too. The old pride remained; Calvin Brooks would probably carry pride into his coffin and complain if the coffin maker charged too much for handles. Yet now his pride had direction. It was no longer pointed at her.
Henrietta opened the door.
Silas Vane stood against a field of blowing white, black coat immaculate despite the road and his gloves buttoned with the same precision he brought to every cruelty. Snow had gathered along the brim of his hat. He removed it without being invited.
“Mrs. Brooks.”
“Mr. Vane.”
His gaze moved past her, taking in Mercer by the window, Calvin in bed, and the papers spread across the table.
For the first time, his expression changed before he could stop it.
Not much.
Enough.
Henrietta stepped aside. “You might as well come in. You’ve already counted the furniture.”
Silas entered and brushed snow from one sleeve. “I had hoped we might avoid unpleasantness.”
Calvin laughed once from the bed. There was no humor in it. “Then you took a peculiar road here.”
Silas ignored him.
His attention returned to the table. “You’ve been busy.”
Henrietta closed the door. “So have you.”
“I conduct a bank.”
“You conduct numbers.”
“A bank is numbers.”
“No, Mr. Vane. A bank is trust expressed through numbers. That distinction appears to trouble you.”
Mercer’s mouth twitched.
Silas removed his gloves finger by finger. “I had intended to offer a final opportunity for civility.”
Calvin leaned against the headboard. “Civility from you sounds like a man offering a clean handkerchief after he breaks someone’s nose.”