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“He had been my land agent for sixteen years.”

“He had been stealing from you for twelve of them.”

Sir Lionel shifted deeper into his chair. “What is it this time, my dear?”

Judith decided directness might succeed where delicacy would merely prolong the battle.

“I want you to establish a relief fund.”

He blinked. “For whom, may I ask?”

“For the local families affected by unemployment and rising food prices.”

Sir Lionel frowned. “The parish has relief.”

“The parish has a remarkable ability to find reasons why deserving people do not qualify.”

“That is rather harsh.”

“It is also true.”

He rubbed one hand along his jaw. “How much money do you want me to put in this ‘relief fund’?”

“I do not know yet.”

“Then how can you ask me to establish it?”

“I am asking whether you will support the principle before I trouble myself with the sums.”

His eyes narrowed. “You already have the sums,” he said accusingly.

Judith hesitated.

Sir Lionel pointed at her. “I knew it.”

“I have preliminary calculations.”

“Of course.”

“It would not have been sensible to begin without them.”

“May I see these preliminary calculations?”

“No, I am afraid not.”

“Why not?”

“Because you will object before hearing the rest.”

“Judith, I am already objecting.”

“Then there is no reason for me to provide additional ammunition.”

Sir Lionel stared at her with exasperation.

She stared back with pleading, nay, desperate eyes.

He sighed. “Very well. What do you propose?”