'No, another piece of salient information that these idiots failed to provide. I think this time I shall dispense with their services as I've threatened to do before and find myself someone younger and more efficient to deal with my affairs.' James scowled. He'd been in charge of his estates for nine years, since he was one and twenty, and the family had used this particular firm for over a century.
The look of relief on his secretary's face made him smile again. 'I believe that you mentioned a firm in Bath, Queen's Square if I recall. I don't recollect the name.'
'Little and Lyle, my lord, an excellent company and very well thought of by those who employ their services.'
'Excellent.' James grinned – not something he did very often. 'Then that saves me the fag of making the journey to London. Send a letter by express to Dulwich & Sons demanding that they bring all my papers, accounts and deeds, to Little and Lyle immediately.'
'Yes, my lord, I'll do that at once. After all, the young ladies have been left to their own devices already for several weeks so what can another week or so matter?'
All desire to smile vanished. Smithers was an excellent secretary but sometimes he walked on very thin ice by making such remarks as this one.
'I can hardly visit these young ladies until I know their whereabouts. Why should I set out on a wild goose chase when in a day or two I'll know exactly where to go?'
'Indeed, sir, that makes perfect sense. Is there anything else you require?'
James waved at the door but didn't answer. Maybe it was time to change his secretary as well as Smithers was beginning to annoy him with his oblique criticisms. He scowled at the door – now firmly closed – and glared at the portrait. He'd thrown so many things at this picture over the years that the face of his father was no longer recognisable.
He closed his eyes and his hands clenched. He'd never known his mother as she'd died at his birth, and his remaining parent had never forgiven his son for causing the loss of the love of his life. James had been mostly ignored, only summoned to his father's presence to be beaten for some trivial misdemeanour or other.
It had been a relief to be sent away to boarding school at eight years of age, and it had been no hardship at all to be denied visits to his ancestral home even in the holidays. Lord Richard Brotherton had broken his neck in a riding accident when James had been on his grand tour. He'd returned to take over the running of the vast estate, the many villages, farms, and investments at the tender age of one and twenty.
He sighed and his two huge hounds rested their heavy heads in his lap. These two dogs, Caliban and Othello, were his constant companions and the only living things he truly loved. He was fond of his horses, especially his black stallion Lucifer, but there was something about canines that made them irresistible – at least he felt that way about his own dogs.
The yapping lapdogs that ladies preferred were an abomination to him. His ancient grandmama, the Dowager Countess of Avon, owned several of these animals which was one reason he refused to visit her. She resided in the same building as him, the East Wing, but he could go weeks without setting eyes on her and that suited them both admirably.
The other reason he stayed away was because on the rare occasions that he did he set foot in her domain, she rattled on about him setting up his nursery, finding himself a wife and providing an heir to inherit not only the titles but the thousands of acres too.
Every time, he informed her there was a perfectly good heir, another closer cousin, a decent enough gentleman but for the life of him he couldn't recall his name. It was something outlandish – biblical, he thought, but if this relative inherited, nobody would care what his name was. James certainly wouldn't as he'd be dead.
'Come along, fellows, we shall go for a long walk. I'll take you to the lake and you can chase the ducks and swim.'
Both dogs thumped their tails against the side of his desk.
'I might even join you. It's warm enough today.'
Swimming naked in his lake was one of the pastimes James enjoyed but probably not one someone of his importance should indulge in.
