Of Love and Deceit

Chapter Seven

Edward awoke to a throbbing headache, a telltale sign of too much brandy from the previous night. With a groan, he pushed himself into a sitting position, the room spinning slightly. He could feel the weight of his father’s responsibilities pressing down on him. Swallowing a grimace, he struggled out of bed and dressed quickly, pulling on his clothes with efficiency. Breakfast awaited, and he needed to steel himself for another day in the relentless grind of duty and expectation.

Descending the grand staircase of the Duke’s residence, Edward tried to ignore the chill that seemed to permeate the vast, empty halls. The house, while opulent and elegant, felt cold and distant—a reflection of the weight of his new role. The magnificence of the entrance hall was impressive, with its polished marble floors and towering columns, but the emptiness of the space made it feel like a mausoleum. 

At the head table in the breakfast room, Edward took his seat. The room was bathed in the soft, golden light of the morning sun filtering through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the floor. Despite the warmth of the light, Edward felt a cold solitude that no amount of grandness could dispel.

“Good morning, Mrs. Anne,” he greeted, trying to infuse some warmth into his voice as he spotted the housekeeper.

“Mornin’, my dear,” she replied, her voice comforting as she handed him a steaming cup of chamomile tea. Her weathered face softened with a kind smile. “This is to help you relax.”

He accepted the tea gratefully. The aroma of chamomile was soothing, and he hoped Mrs. Anne had not noticed his slight inebriation the previous night. He took a cautious sip, feeling the warmth spread through him, easing the tightness in his temples. The tea had always been a balm, a small respite from the stress of his duties.

After finishing his toast, Edward signalled to the butler that he would be in his father’s study and should not be disturbed. The old man gave a respectful bow, and Edward retreated to the study, a room lined with dark wood panelling and filled with the scent of aged leather and ink. Inside the study, Edward began sorting through his father's accounts, each ledger and document painstakingly arranged. The late Duke had been a man of remarkable discipline, and his financial records were a testament to his prudence. The accounts were kept in a series of bound ledgers, each one neatly inscribed with a gold leaf on its spine, and arranged in alphabetical order on the shelves.

Edward pulled out the ledgers, noting the detailed entries. Each page was a dense column of figures, carefully recorded. The accounts were divided into categories: properties, investments, and personal expenditures. He noted the significant holdings in London, Spain, Italy, and other locations, each meticulously detailed. The London properties alone were described with detailed reports of their income and maintenance costs. One ledger detailed the family’s stocks and bonds, investments in various enterprises, and shares in trading companies. The investments were astutely chosen, with returns calculated and projected with precision. 

His father had holdings in several prominent banks and mercantile ventures, investments that had been wisely managed to ensure a steady income. The estate also included significant landholdings, with detailed maps and descriptions of each property’s size, location, and current value. The late Duke’s business dealings were also recorded in separate journals: negotiations, contracts, and correspondence with various trading partners and business associates. Each document bore the his precise signature, a mark of his personal oversight.

Edward’s eyes fell on a specific document related to the Eckhart family. It was an agreement between his father and Lord Eckhart concerning a substantial sum of money. It looked like a dowry payment, but Edward wasn’t sure. The terms of the contract were complex, involving intricate clauses about inheritance and mutual support. Edward’s suspicion was heightened as he realised the depth of his father’s involvement with the Eckharts. The Duke’s wealth was managed with extraordinary care, yet it was clear that his dealings with Lord Eckhart were marked by a level of secrecy.

As he worked, his dark hair fell into his eyes, and he flicked it away with a frustrated gesture. The meticulous nature of the documents was both a comfort and a burden. He knew he needed to visit the family lawyer to clarify some of the more complex aspects of the estate’s holdings. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, drawing a frown from him. He had been clear about not wishing to be disturbed.

“I presume I had made my instructions clear, Mr. Jones,” he said, his voice sharp as he looked at the butler who stood in the doorway.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Mr. Jones said, bowing deeply. “But a missive arrived for you, and it’s marked urgent.”

Edward’s irritation softened slightly as he gestured for the letter to be placed on his desk. The butler complied, leaving with another bow. Edward turned the letter in his hands, noting the seal of the Eckhart family. He felt a pang of unease. Lord Hadley Eckhart had been a friend of his father’s, but Edward had always found the man’s calculating eyes and smirking nature unsettling.

Using his letter knife, Edward broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. His eyes scanned the contents, and he paused when he read that his father had entered into an agreement with Lord Eckhart. The nature of the agreement was not immediately clear. Could it be about the agreement that involved the sum of money resembling a dowry payment? Edward mused. Lord Eckhart had never been one to act without self-interest.

Edward’s mind raced. What on earth could his father have wanted with such a devious man? The very idea of Lord Eckhart, with his scheming ways, being involved in his father’s affairs was disquieting. Edward was resolved to meet with him, not out of respect for his father’s memory but to sever any ties his father might have had with him. 

With a resolute nod, he rang for the butler. It was time to respond to Lord Eckhart’s request for an audience. He had a feeling that it had to do with the agreement he just found in his father’s accounts. The impending meeting loomed large in his mind, and Edward could only hope it would bring some clarity—or at the very least, a resolution to the unease that had settled over him.

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