*
I wanted to go to the club, see who was around, hear some news, but I’m no longer in the mood to go.
I’m poor. The twelfth Duke of Burlingham has the wolf at the door!
How can I show my face?
If they ask me “Hello, Parker, how’s life?” I can’t reply “Awesome, I’m broke!”
Not to mention the fact that I can’t even treat my friends to a whisky. What a memorable scene, having my credit card cut in half in front of everyone. It must be a mistake, and there must be a solution.
I step on the gas more than I should, in order to leave London as soon as possible, as though my problems were enclosed by the city borders and I could leave them behind just by driving a handful of miles away.
When I get to Denby Hall, I have a hard time finding one of the servants to open the gates.
Why is this bloody house packed with people who are never there when I need them? Where does all my money go if I have to get out of the car and open the gates myself?
Silly questions. As soon as I get to the front door, I realise that my mother has summoned every single one of them, from the stable lad to the maids, including the cooks, the chauffeur and the gardener.
“Good morning, Your Grace. Welcome back home,” says Lance, the butler, who is moving what looks like the whole furniture of the east wing.
“Lance? Would you explain what is going on with the furniture?” I ask him, while the rushing servants almost overwhelm me.
“Orders from the duchess.”
“Indeed, but why?”
“She will take it to Bath,” he replies vaguely.
My ears are hit by the familiar click-clack of heels on the marble stairs of the hall. “It’s absolutely necessary to reconsider the furniture and décor arrangements. In Bath and here,” utters a despotic female voice coming just from behind me.
I turn round and see my mother standing in the front door archway, with her arms crossed and a defiant expression.
“Why would that be necessary?”
“You are the new Duke of Burlingham, I therefore ordered a complete renovation of the wallpaper and household linen with your initials added below the family crest. Obviously, the change involves the interior décor as well.”
“I’ve never asked for any of this,” I object.
“I did. I’ve already called the architect; he’ll join us tomorrow and we’ll start planning the renovation of Denby Hall. Then, in two days I’ll go to Bath, and do the same in Bleech House and…”
“You can’t go to Bath!” I stop her, alarmed.
“I beg your pardon?” She looks at me as though I had spoken backwards.
“Call it off, you can’t go to Bath.”
Please God, do something! Paralyse her, strike her with a lightning bolt, but stop her from going to Bath!
She doesn’t seem to take me seriously. “I’ve never heard anything more foolish.”
What am I going to do now? “You cannot. We’re expecting guests and I need you to receive them properly!”
“You can receive them with Portia, the two of you would make an excellent impression…”
“No! They’re very important guests, I need your presence.”
“And who would they be? We haven’t received anyone in six months!” she replies, irritated.
