Page 10 of Taming of the Rake
It had been difficult to keep a straight face after hearingthat. He had been very cryptic with his parents regarding the occupation which earned him the funds to send home. They had not delved beyond his fabrications, likely because they hadn’t wanted to admit their only son was driven to seek employment to support his family. A gentleman did not sully his hands with actual work, and it had probably been a relief to have David so far away in London. It was easier not to have to tell their friends and neighbors that their son had wasted a gentleman’s education on a lowlyjob.
David had a difficult time remembering the details of his last visit home, as he’d spent much of it carousing. He had been invited to a string of dinners and card parties, and a rather persistent widow intent on having him warm her bed. Between keepers at the time, he had seized the chance to do what he pleased for a change. Had he been so absorbed in his own affairs he hadn’t noticed his father becoming a drunk right before his eyes?
“The accident,” Mrs. Moffat hedged. “No one will say it and I beg your pardon, Master David, but …”
“Go on,” David urged.
She traded glances with Caruthers, who picked up where she left off. “He fell off his horse … you knew that. Broke his neck. But, the decanter in his study was empty, and I’d only just filled it that morning. Your mother and sisters don’t imbibe strong drink, sir, and Wren doesn’t partake when he is here. There is only one person who could have emptied it.”
“Christ,” David muttered, resting his head in his hands. “He had to have been absolutely soused. No wonder he lost his seat. I’d wondered …”
His father had been a country gentleman familiar with every horse in the stable. There was no reason for him to have died in such an accident unless the horse had been spooked … or, the rider had been dipping too deep.
It all made sense now. If his father had taken to drink, it would have been easier for Wren to steal from them. The fiend had likely been taking advantage of his father’s trusting nature for years, and began ramping up his efforts once he realized he could get away with taking more.
The final shred of proof came as David rifled through a stack of journals from his father’s study. He’d been reading over them since his arrival, but had found mostly dull tidbits regarding matters of the estate. His father had kept a record of everything, from tenant disputes to crop yields. However, he was convinced that the truth would reveal itself if he kept sifting through the meticulous records.
His mother entered just as he reached the volumes covering the past few years. David glanced up to find her approaching him with a tray, a shaky smile on her face. She was wrapped in her dressing gown, her white-streaked dark hair hanging down her back. Without her caps or pins, that voluminous hair made her look younger, softening the sharpness of her features.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said while placing the tray near his elbow. “You have been working so hard. I noticed you didn’t eat much at dinner.”
On the tray, he found a teapot with two chipped cups in saucers, as well as a sparse offering of biscuits.
“You could never be a bother, and this looks wonderful. Thank you.”
She poured the tea, squeezing a wedge of lemon into his. David sipped and turned the page as she slid a biscuit onto his saucer. When he glanced up at her again, she’d taken the chair facing his father’s desk, her own cup held in both hands.
No, not his father’s desk.Hisdesk. Remembering such details was going to take some getting used to.
“Your father was so fastidious about his records, wasn’t he?”
His mouth twitched with a smile that never quite manifested. “He was. Did you know he named the lambs? Every lambing, he would tally how many had been born … and he gave them names.”
His mother chuckled, giving a little shake of her head. “I did not know that, but am hardly surprised. That sounds like my Noel. Are you … looking for something in particular?”
He paused, a biscuit halfway to his mouth. “Why do you ask?”
She peered into her teacup. “I did my best, David. I truly did. But you know how your father was. He claimed my place was as lady of the house, and I shouldn’t worry myself over matters of the estate. He disliked being made to feel as if he didn’t know what he was about.”
“Yes, I remember. I don’t think he meant to imply that you did not have the head for the numbers.”
“No, only that it would shame him as a man to admit he didn’t have it all well in hand. But I did try … when he would listen to me. I managed to get through to him on occasion, but never when it came to thatman.”
“You mean Mr. Wren?”
“Yes. You’ve noticed it, too … the discrepancies in his records?”
“Younoticed them?”
She raised her chin and gave a delicate sniff. “Do you know how easily a hat pin can be used to pick a lock? The day after your father’s death, I went into Mr. Wren’s study and read through his account books. I saw the letters you sent and the amounts that were enclosed. It would have been enough to at least get us out of debt. The profits from the farm would have taken care of the rest.”
That was precisely what he’d thought, and it didn’t surprise David that his mother had come to that conclusion as well. She was smarter than his father had given her credit for.
“When I said I was glad you are here, I didn’t only mean so that you could be a comfort to us, David. I knew you would see what your father could not. I realize Noel’s death was sudden and you didn’t expect to inherit so young, but we need you. Not just the twins and I, but everyone who relies on our lands for their living.”
He knew that well enough. The mountains of ledgers and reports stacked around him served as proof.
“I will do my best,” he mumbled, flipping another page in the journal with a sigh. “There isn’t much here for me to work with, and what we need is an influx of funds from … somewhere. I will manage it. I can let go of my townhouse in London, sell off some of my things.”
