He didn’t like being had. Phillip moved his fingertips so they tapped against one another. “Cannot?” he asked silkily. “Or will not?”
Knowing full well he baited the man, who seemed much more concerned than when he had first entered the room, Phillip waited. No longer the rash younger man, he’d grown a lot, partially on his own and partially because he’d had to in order to maintain his friendships. The ones that meant a damn to him.
Elonne held his gaze. The man had that much going for him at least. There wasn’t any squirming or hemming and hawing to try to buy some additional time. “Cannot, my lord.”
“Then I was misinformed when I was advised that you were the one who takes care of the estate’s books?” A layer of honey to bring him in closer.
“No, my lord.”
He flattened his lips together. “Explain this to me then.” His tone had gotten hard and carried the same ‘I am above you because of my station in life’ character that he had used on a daily basis in England. “I would really like to know how the man I had been led to believe took care of the books on my newest purchase suddenly is informing me he does not know how to teach me his method.”
“My sibling Fyre does the books. I needed to spend more time out in the fields to get the harvest in. Fyre took over and added in this new way to keep those who would come and snoop from being able to read your profits.”
Who is trying to find out about my business here?
Elonne got to his feet and approached the desk. He reached one hand out to the books but paused before there was actual touching. “May I, my lord?”
“By all means.” He waved a hand and continued leaning back in the chair. Phillip had to admit, he was intrigued. And impressed. This man was still working in the fields when he was fairly certain what he would be earning as one who took care of the books should provide him with enough.
The man turned one book toward him and placed the tip of a blunt finger along a line.
“I know that this means you are flush, my lord. This symbol means that, but I cannot tell you all the profits from sugar, tobacco or other items that are grown here. I can tell you that when we started growing and selling other items, more people came around to see how much money was being made. The book change came when we found a few visitors snooping around.”
“Snooping around.” That, he wasn’t a fan of hearing. The hardness in his gut took root and grew. It took an effort to keep his sneer contained but he did, waiting to hear what else he would be enlightened about.
There was a way out of this. He could, and would, figure it out. The directionless emotion pouring through him pissed him off. That feeling had been part of the reason he had left England. He wanted to do more. Be more.
Make something of himself, even if that wasn’t a typical urge for a member of the peerage. His friends had, and while he was still included in the circle, he was now the outlier. The one without a woman, without a cause, without any direction.
Something he wanted desperately to change.
“Where is Fyre now?”
Unease hit the man’s expression. He clearly worked hard to contain his frown, causing his forehead to wrinkle. “In town, working.”
“So there is not enough work doing the books here to keep him busy? He is also in town working?”
Something akin to shame kicked free over his features. “The books were my job, my lord. Fyre works at a few other places. I was the one who asked for the assistance in keeping your books. Fyre would never speak of what was seen here.”
Phillip thought about this discussion. He knew this island had a different mentality than some of the others he’d visited on his way here. The dynamic wasn’t just slave and owner. There were Blacks who had businesses in the port town and some, he had been told, had small farms of their own. That alone had marked this island as one of the odd ones out and he fully expected in the future there might be trouble from the other plantation owners on surrounding islands who still had slaves and were looking to always increase their own holdings.
Right now, he had to figure out this puzzle of his steward’s bookkeeping.
“Where is Fyre now?” He repeated his question.
“In town, my lord.” The answer hadn’t changed and was given without so much as a slight hesitation.
Wouldn’t divulge a location. Interesting. “And how soon will he be made available?”
“I am unsure, my lord. There are long hours to be kept.”