One gentleman assured him that he would continue to supply the Hall with groceries “as we always have, though, things being tight prices could change.” The vicar hinted funds for the village church would be welcome. Another tenant lamented that, with the late duke being ill, the annual roof inspection hadn’t happened.
Amos Jones caught his eye. “I know this isn’t the day, but if you have time tomorrow, let me show you the glasshouse and the state of this year’s roses.” He leaned in confidentially. “You’ll want to know Edgecote’s tricks, if we are to guard against his cheating.”
By the time he had worked his way through the throng two hours later, several people had wished him good luck with the blasted roses as if nothing else mattered. To his great relief, some people requested their belongings, preparing to leave.
Henry returned to the food table, which by then appeared as if a cloud of locusts had done their work on it, and piled a few broken pastries and the sad little sandwich that remained on a plate.
Givens rushed over, his expression making it very clear that Henry had breached protocol. “We’d be happy to assist, Your Grace.”
“No need. And no need for supper. It has been a long day. I will just carry this up to my room. More hot toddy would be welcome, however.”
“I’ll have fresh prepared and send it up,” Givens said with a bow.
Henry sighed and smiled. “Thank you.”
He found Mary at the foot of the stairs. “I don’t see the bishop,” he said, juggling his plate.
“He retired early,” she said.
“I’m about to do the same.”
Mary looked stricken. “I hoped to speak with you at dinner.”
“I’m exhausted, Mary. Can it wait?”
“Of course. It’s just, I’m so proud of you. I made a decision today,” she said, patting her tummy. “If this is a boy, we will name him Henry.”
The new duke was horrified. He’d spent his youth being confused with his cousin, his uncle, and his grandfather. “Please don’t do that to the nipper. Call him Edgar, or George, or Algernon. Anything. We don’t need another Henry.”
She laughed. “Don’t be silly. It is a Lancaster County tradition. Did you know Aunt Blanche put us in some poky room?”
“I understand the blue suite will be available when the bishop leaves,” he said.
“Also, Martin wants to talk to you about a parliamentary position, but that can wait.”
It can wait for years…Henry had his hands full right here at Roseleigh. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. Would they decide to stay in residence? He wasn’t sure what he hoped.
Through the drawing room door, he caught sight of Aunt Blanche on her feet and approaching him. He climbed the stairs quickly before she had time to confront him.
A brisk fire warmed his suite, the first benefit of being duke that he had appreciated all day. He put his plate on a table and sat next to it, allowing heat to seep in and clear his head.
Soon after, a scratch at the door presaged the promised footman. “Enter,” he said.
Givens did so, one of his underlings in tow with a steaming pitcher of hot toddy, a porcelain cup, a plate with ham sandwiches, another with fresh biscuits, and a clean linen towel. Henry’s mouth watered. He hadn’t eaten all day and was grateful the butler had ignored what he’d said downstairs.
“Will there be anything else, Your Grace?” Givens asked.
“No. Thank you. This is excellent.”
The old man left looking satisfied. He removed Henry’s sad little plate of broken pastries as he went.
One sandwich and a cup of toddy later, Henry felt much more the thing. He poured another cup and went to the writing desk against the wall. He always found that, when confronted with a confusing or new situation, a bit of list making helped organize his thoughts.
He took a piece of paper and wrote, “Immediate Problems to be Addressed.” Number one… As tempting as it was to make evicting Aunt Blanche his first priority, that was neither wise nor kind.
Number one—find the study and review records. Make it his own. While he was at it, he’d want to redecorate this bedroom to expel the ghost—or at least the memory—of his grandfather. The workings of the estate, however, took priority. Perhaps he’d find something about the boundary dispute. He preferred to explore the work alone at first, but he would probably have to lean on his secretary for a while.
He tapped his finger on the desk. Number two—learn estate management, and how to adjudicate tenant concerns. George Bradley had given him space so far, but he ought to meet with him as soon as possible.
