Page 12 of Daisy and the Duke
“Glad you’re back in the land of the living,” Tristan told him cheerfully, as he flung himself into a chair placed near the bed.
“So am I,” Jack replied. Then he looked at Tristan, his eyes narrowing. “Hold a moment. What happened to you?”
Tris leaned forward in his chair, trying not to smile as he said, “I met someone while riding.”
“A woman,” Jack said. “My lord, I take an afternoon nap and you’re already out meeting the beauties of the shire. I assume she’s a beauty?”
Tris nodded, and very briefly explained where he’d encountered Daisy in the woods. “She is a neighbor, though her position in the household seems a bit odd. She was very ladylike, and she mentioned going to some boarding school…but she’s also foraging for dinner?”
“Perhaps she’s a natural child,” Jack guessed. It was common enough for some aristocratic families to harbor a few by-blows of the master, depending on the circumstances. Sometimes, the bastards were raised in exactly the same manner as the legitimate children. In other cases, they might be little more than servants. “I’m sure Miss Wallis can tell you more. She’s lived here for years.”
Tristan had almost forgotten the lady, that slender shadow who greeted them so warily when they arrived. “Yes, I’ll do that. Local knowledge is always best.”
“She’s worried you’ll send her packing,” Jack said bluntly. “She came by about an hour ago to see how I was doing. We chatted.”
“And she told you that?” Tristan asked.
“Don’t be daft. A lady like her would never breathe a word against the new master of the house. It’s everything shedidn’tsay. She’s terrified that the new duke will decide that she’s an unnecessary drain upon the resources, vast though they must be. The problem with being a useful woman is that it’s always someone else who determines when the usefulness ends.”
Tristan knew what Jack meant. Though he’d never personally had to deal with excess female relatives until now, he understood that society had very few places for women who were not daughters, wives, or mothers. A small number managed to find positions as “useful women” who minded children who were not theirs, or served as companions to family members more wealthy than they. Miss Wallis had done the latter for the old duke, but Tristan was unlikely to need the same services.
Jack’s words also made Tris think of another problem. “Miss Wallis may be right to worry on one point. From what little I managed to learn so far, my resources are not nearly as vast as everyone seems to think.”
“But the dukedom…”
“…is in difficulty,” Tris said bluntly. “Quite how much difficulty I don’t know yet. The solicitor had incomplete information, and the estate manager has been elusive. In fact,” Tristan added hesitantly, “when you’re better, I was hoping that we could go over the books. You know that when it comes to numbers, I’m at sixes and sevens.” Since Kemble studied the law, specifically in chancery, he was much more familiar with the mundane aspects of money management.
Jack smiled. “Of course I’ll help. I must earn my keep.”
“You’re a guest, you idiot. But if you’re not feeling well enough…”
“Nonsense. Where are the books and ledgers? Let me at them! And we’ll run this estate manager to earth like hounds chase a fox.”
“Ha. If the doctor could see you now! All it takes to get you on the mend is paperwork.”
Tristan arranged to have all the materials brought to Jack’s room. Footmen were kept busy trotting to and fro from various offices to seize more items and papers to examine. Tristan also learned that while the housekeeper kept a massive ring of keys, he had his own ring, nearly as heavy, for all the locked drawers and cases that the duke alone could access.
The men spent quite a while examining the books available. Tristan was out of his depth, though he knew he’d catch on soon enough. What was clear was that Lyondale was not nearly as well-run as it could be. The estate manager’s intermittent reports were not particularly informative either.
“Have I made a mistake in coming here?” Tristan asked.
Jack looked up from the ledger book, his expression alert but his flesh looking a bit sallow. “No, of course not. The good news is that you do have money. The bad news is that your predecessor had been tapping into the principal of all the investments. If you don’t change the way the estate collects revenue, you’ll be out of funds in a decade or so. And that’s if you spend wisely.”
“So I need to make the place pay for itself,” said Tristan.
“Yes. It’s not impossible. There’s very good land here. It’s just been poorly managed since your predecessor’s health declined several years ago. This estate manager, Mr. Reed, sounds like he’s incompetent.” Jack held up one of the sloppily written reports.
“AndI refused to come here immediately after the old duke’s death, exacerbating the problem,” Tristan added, feeling the guilt wash up.
Jack shook his head. “No need to cast blame. Be grateful that you have a chance to correct course before it’s too late. First thing, I’d suggest letting Reed go.”
Tristan nodded, having already come to that conclusion. “I need a new estate manager, then. A good man who understands these things. I know just enough to be dangerous.”
“Yes,” said Kemble. “You should advertise for one. If you’re lucky, you should be able to interview men and get the right one out here before spring planting. The sooner, the better. And it wouldn’t hurt to let everyone know that there will be changes. People get used to the way things are, even if things aren’t going well.”
Tristan mused, “I need a way to get everyone in one place. I’m not going to repeat my intentions to a few dozen local worthies. I’ll say it once and be done with it.”
“Throw a party. You can announce things then.”
