Page 16 of To Tame the Wild Rake
Lady Charlotte looked over his shoulder, and he turned to see a man—a gentleman by his coat and his boats—approaching across the forecourt.
“You are early, Lord Bentham,” Lady Charlotte greeted him. “My sister is still away.”
Ah. The Earl of Lechton’s newly rediscovered heir. One of Aldridge’s secretaries had said the man was in town, bride-hunting. Was Lady Sarah in his sights?
“I came to see you this morning, my lady,” Bentham replied. “Or at least to leave you a message. I expected to be told you were not available to visitors.”
“I have been out early,” Charlotte agreed, “and I fear that we must go out again soon. Aldridge, have you met Bentham, Lechton’s heir?”
Bentham nodded at Aldridge, heir to heir, but spoke to Lady Charlotte. “I have a message from a boy named Tony.”
Everyone stilled, and Lady Charlotte started forward. “Tony? You have seen him?”
“I treated him,” Bentham replied. “He will recover. He fell and broke a leg. Bruised ribs. A few bangs and cuts. He is safe and in the Ashbury Clinic in Brightwell Lane just off Wintermount Street.”
“Ruth’s clinic?” Lady Charlotte asked. Lady Ashford, her cousin Ruth, was not only the founder of the clinic, but also worked there when she was in London. She had trained as a doctor in the far-off mountain kingdom her father had ruled in Central Asia.
Bentham added, “He said to tell you he did not run. He was taken from the garden.”
Charlotte turned to him. “There, Aldridge. I told you. Thank you, Lord Bentham. Aldridge, can we go now?”
“Is he awake, Bentham?” Aldridge asked, and when the young viscount shook his head, he said, “May I suggest breakfast first, now that we know he is safe, my lady? I am sure your men are hungry, and I know I am. Why don’t you invite Bentham to join us? He can tell us how Tony came to be at the clinic.”
“I will dispatch a man to stand guard,” Yahzak suggested.
“Dismiss your carriage, Bentham,” Lady Charlotte commanded. “We’ll see that you get home.”
Aldridge argued through breakfast, but Lady Charlotte wouldn’t budge. In truth, he knew she would be well guarded, and—in any case—he doubted Wharton was fool enough for an all-out war on the Duke of Winshire. Attacking Lady Charlotte would attract the kind of official attention he couldn’t survive, and so would an assault on the clinic founded and sponsored by the duke’s daughter.
He tried advocating for his right, as a blood relative, to at least meet the boy. But Lady Charlotte said, and Bentham agreed, that Tony wouldn’t be fit for visitors today, and probably not tomorrow, either.
In the end, Aldridge gave in with the best grace he could summon, and went home to Haverford House.
He entered through the centre block of the mansion. Haverford House was built in the form of an H, with the cross bar containing most of the public rooms. The right side was given over to family and guest rooms. Aldridge lived on the left side. The rooms south of the cross bar comprised the Heir’s Wing, where adult Marquises of Aldridge had lived since the house was built in the late sixteenth century. North of the cross bar, the same wing contained large entertaining spaces, including a massive ballroom and a banqueting hall, plus further guest rooms.
The work of the duchy was administered and managed through a series of rooms centred on the room always called The Duke’s Study. Aldridge had maintained a desk there since he first began to take over the work that didn’t interest his father, more than a decade ago.
The rooms housed a dozen clerks and three secretaries, and they and the duchy’s agents came and went through a private entrance tucked into the corner where the central building met the Heir’s Wing.
Aldridge mounted the short flight of steps from the courtyard and used his own key to let himself into the first office. Early as it was, three clerks stood to mark his arrival. He waved them back into their seats and went through to the next room, and then the next, where the secretaries were holding their first meeting of the day, sorting correspondence into social, estate business, investment business, politics, family business and other. Since the categories often overlapped, the meeting helped to keep them all informed about anything that might affect their area of responsibility.
They, too, would have risen, but Aldridge said, “Don’t get up. Just tell me if there’s anything urgent I need to deal with. I’ve been up all night, and want a bath and a sleep.”
“Two letters: one from your mother, one from Lady Hamner,” reported Edmund Markinson, who kept track of Aldridge’s social obligations, managed any business issues to do with family, and maintained oversight of the dower properties he had set aside for his two unmarried sisters.
“Also, a message from Haverford Castle,” Edmund added. “It can wait until you are refreshed, my lord.”
But will need your attention today, went unsaid. In fact, knowing Edmund, the subtext was probably more like,but don’t read it now or you won’t sleep.
Aldridge raised an eyebrow in question, looking at Erasmus Castle, his investment secretary (commonly known as Rook), and then Peregrine Fitzgrenford (Hawk), whose portfolio comprised all of the ducal estates. Both shook their heads.
“I have the final figures on the Four Hills canal, but it can wait until you have time,” Rook commented.
“I’d better be awake for that,” Aldridge joked, and the three secretaries rewarded him with a dutiful chuckle.
“Nothing here that can’t wait,” Hawk confirmed. “We have the last of the harvest figures. I’ll need time to finish my analysis and make a summary of the land stewards’ recommendations.”
“Two days?” Aldridge asked. Hawk nodded. “Block out some time with me the day after tomorrow, then. Rook, I’ll catch up with you later today. Edmund, I’ll take the letters up to bed with me. Gentlemen, thank you.”
