The Tanner’s Daughter – Episode 07
The Tanner's Daughter by Pamela Kavanagh
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Will waited until Jane was seated beside him. He then indicated the columns of figures in the firm’s leather-bound accounts ledger.
“Jane, I have been through these figures thoroughly and my conclusion matches yours. The totals do not balance.
“The last entry made by the clerk of work at the end of January shows a shortfall of ten guineas.
“The same applies to last December. November shows a larger imbalance of fifteen guineas.
“Here and here… ” Will pointed to the places “… are where the figures have been tampered with, presumably to make the totals appear authentic.”
“So I was not wrong! My reckoning served me well.”
“Most definitely. It seems wrong to accuse a fellow out of hand, but it does look as if this Briggs has been relieving the firm of its takings for months.
“I have yet to delve further. Best wait and see what it brings.”
All the colour had left Jane’s face. She was finding it hard to breathe.
“Here, take a sup of wine. This has been a shock.”
Will poured a small measure from a pitcher at his elbow, and she drank gratefully, her hand shaking a little.
“My thanks, Will. As you say, a shock, though not entirely unexpected. I hate to think what this will do to Father. He trusted Master Briggs implicitly.”
“He will have to be told, Jane,” Will said gently.
“Yes, I know.”
Through the open lattice, the distant chiming of the cathedral clock caused Jane to glance up.
“Margery will be wondering where I am. If we dally any longer all the best market produce will be gone.
“Is there anything you need?”
“More writing materials, if I’m to make a thorough perusal of the books.”
Will sat for a moment, thoughtful. Then, picking up the quill, he dipped it into the standish of ink and resumed his investigation.
On her way to the market place with Margery, deep wicker baskets in hand, Jane was distracted.
Master Briggs had been treated well: adequate wage, decent working conditions.
Why, she herself had seen to it that he had a good fire in the winter. And this was how he repaid them.
How was she to tell her father?
At her side Margery was in full flow, her voice raised against the clamour of horse-drawn traffic and scurrying pedestrians.
“I need marjoram and pennyroyal for the stillroom. It’s to be hoped they are available.
“Dried herbs are often in short supply at this time of the year.”
“Quite,” Jane said absently.
Margery, avoiding a clutch of gossiping housewives by the entrance to a pie shop, gave her a searching look.
“You are lost in thought, mistress. Would it be Master Leche who is claiming your attention?”
The implication was clear and colour swept Jane’s cheeks.
“You are forward, Margery!” She paused. Nothing could be kept from Margery for long.
“But you are not wrong. It is Will Leche who occupies my mind, though not in the way you imply.”
“Yet you are taken with him.”
“Who could not be? Except Mother, perhaps. No, this is a more critical matter.”
She hesitated. Though aware of a professional need for privacy, she had to talk to someone, and who else if not her friend and confidante?
“Margery, you know how I struggled to make sense of the office accounts.”
“Why, yes. You were baffled. There was an actual problem, then?”
“I fear so. Will has looked into it for me. It seems that Master Briggs has been pilfering from the firm’s takings and dressing the figures accordingly.