Mary Jo Putney (28 page)

R
ob mentally listed his duties for the rest of the day as he entered the front hall of the house. He was intercepted by Sarah, who carried a bulging leather folio.

“The absent Nicholas Booth, third-generation solicitor of the firm handling Kellington’s affairs, has arrived,” she informed Rob. “I left him drinking tea in the small salon while I went for the financial plans you and Adam and I developed.” She brandished the folio. “I was about to send someone for you.”

Rob came to full alertness. The financial news was surely bad, but knowing was better than the limbo he’d been in. “Finally! I really was beginning to believe that he’d decamped with the family assets, except that there probably aren’t any. What do you think of him?”

She considered. “Sober, earnest, and intelligent.”

“That’s encouraging.” He offered his arm. “Shall we see what he has to say?”

She took his arm with an expression of rueful resolve. “For better and for worse, my lord! I put him in the small salon since it’s one of the rooms that I haven’t done anything with. He might as well know we’re poor if he hasn’t figured that out already.”

They were walking across the hall when the dowager countess marched down the stairs, cane in hand. “I hear Booth has arrived. I wish to see him.”

Rob hesitated. “Later, perhaps? Sarah and I are joining him for what is likely to be a rather grim discussion of family finances.”

“Which is precisely why I want to be present,” she said waspishly. “Kellington has been my home for almost fifty years, and I have a right to know what’s going on.”

Hard to deny that. “As you wish, ma’am. After you.”

She nodded and led the way to the small salon, cane tapping brusquely. As they entered the room, the lawyer rose quickly and bowed. He was around forty, Rob estimated, of middling height and build. Booth and Rob studied each other in a mutual summing up.

After a few moments, the lawyer turned his attention to the dowager. “Lady Kellington. It’s a pleasure to see you looking so well.”

Her mouth quirked. “You lie as badly as your father did.” She chose a chair and sat, her cane ready in case she wanted to wallop someone.

Rob said, “I’m glad to see you, Mr. Booth. I was on the verge of traveling to London to hunt you down.” He offered his hand.

Booth looked as if he wasn’t sure that such a comment from a Bow Street Runner was a joke. “I’m sorry, Lord Kellington. I intended to write you directly after receiving your letter, but the situation is complex. It took longer than I expected to assemble all relevant information, and I soon realized I’d best meet with you in person.” Releasing Rob’s hand, he glanced at Sarah. “Excuse me, miss, I don’t know who you are.”

“Another Lady Kellington,” she said cheerfully.

He bowed. “I’m sorry, my lady. I didn’t realize that Lord Kellington had a wife.”

“We just married yesterday so it’s not surprising you didn’t know.” Her eyes glinted. “And before you look too hopeful, I do not have a dowry that will make a difference to Kellington’s finances. Shall we take seats and begin?”

Expression uncertain, Mr. Booth said, “This will be a tedious business discussion. Perhaps the ladies would like to be excused?”

“My wife knows more of estate management than I do,” Rob said as he escorted Sarah to the sofa opposite Booth. “It’s likely that my grandmother does also. Since they have vested interests in the situation, they’re entitled to participate.”

He sat down next to Sarah. A low table stood between their sofa and the lawyer’s chair and a neat stack of papers lay in front of Booth.

Sarah set her leather folio down beside the lawyer’s documents in a silent challenge. “Put us out of our misery, Mr. Booth. Will we have to lease Kellington Castle to a nabob while we retrench in a cottage somewhere?”

“I see you’ve been thinking about this, my lady,” the lawyer said with approval. “No, the situation is very difficult, but not quite that bad.”

Sarah caught Rob’s hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back, feeling a stunning rush of relief. Apparently he was more attached to this blasted faux castle than he’d realized. Collecting himself, he asked, “Do you have a list of all the Kellington properties? I imagine anything unentailed is mortgaged.”

“Sadly true. Here is a listing of real property and the mortgages.” The lawyer lifted the top document from his pile and passed it over the table. “As you can see, every single mortgage is in arrears. With the death of your father and then your brother, mortgage holders might be waiting to see who the new earl is before they foreclose.”

“On the off chance that the newest earl is wealthy? They’re doomed to disappointment.” Rob scanned the list. Besides Kellington Castle, which was entailed and couldn’t be mortgaged, there were half a dozen smaller estates, including Kilvarra in Ireland. There were also several London properties and three businesses in the Midlands: a foundry, a pottery, and some sort of mill.

He felt sick when he mentally added up the outstanding debts. Well over a hundred thousand pounds. What the devil had his father and brother done with all that money? He handed the sheet to Sarah. “I didn’t see a mortgage for Kellington House. Is that entailed?”

Booth nodded. “Your grandfather added it to the entail. He was also the one who acquired most of the unentailed properties.” He gave the dowager a respectful nod. “Your husband was an excellent financial manager, my lady.”

The dowager was studying the sheet of properties and debts that Sarah had passed on. “A trait that doesn’t seem to have been inherited. My husband put Kellington House into the entail so the family would have decent quarters in London.”

Sarah said to Booth, “A madly extravagant bathing room has been added to the master suite upstairs. Do you know if the same was done at Kellington House?”

Booth grimaced. “Yes, I saw the bills as they came through. Extortionate.”

“A great waste of money,” Sarah said primly, but Rob saw the gleam in her eyes.

“What income is the combined estate producing?” Rob asked. “Or perhaps I should ask what it produced under my grandfather compared to what it does now.”

“At its best, when your grandfather worked with mine, the annual income was in excess of sixty thousand pounds a year.”

Rob gave a soft whistle. “What is the income now?”

“Between twenty and thirty thousand pounds,” Booth replied. “Since your brother died before receiving the first quarter income, that payment is available to you. I’ve brought a bank draft for about six thousand pounds.”

Combined with the money recovered from Buckley, that was enough to pay the running costs of the estate for several months. “Then we can make a start here at Kellington Castle. Sarah and my friend Ashton and I have sketched out plans for what needs to be done.” Rob removed an outline from Sarah’s folio and handed it to Booth.

“Do you mean the Duke of Ashton?” At Rob’s nod, Booth said, impressed, “He’s considered one of the best and most progressive landlords in Britain. You were fortunate that he was able to work with you.”

“He’s my sister’s husband,” Sarah explained. The lawyer looked even more impressed as he studied the plans, brow furrowing.

Rob said, “We’ll have to work in stages, of course. The first would include critical repairs as well as buying better breeding stock to improve the income in future years. The outline is very rough, of course, since we didn’t have exact numbers.”

Booth flipped to the next page. “Your assumptions and goals are good, though.”

“Now that we’ve talked to you, we can firm up the plans,” Rob said. “I assume I’ll have to let properties that are in arrears go into foreclosure. Since Kellington House is well located, it can be leased to provide some revenue. Since you’re far more familiar with the family properties, I welcome your opinions.”

“Lord Kellington, you talk like your grandfather,” Booth said with approval. “I do have thoughts about guiding the future of the estate.”

“What about personal debts? I won’t pay my father’s or brother’s gambling losses, but I’ll try to settle tradesmen’s bills. I don’t want families put out on the streets because of my predecessors’ profligacy.”

“I can provide you with a listing of those debts.” Booth grimaced. “Tradesmen have been besieging my office since your brother’s death.”

“Most such debts can be negotiated down,” the dowager said. “A tailor who fears he won’t be paid at all will be glad to recover half.” She snorted. “Probably doubled his prices in the first place because he knew they would be hard to collect.”

Feeling some relief, Rob said, “Mr. Booth, you have my permission to negotiate settlements wherever possible.”

The lawyer nodded and made a note. “I’ve covered the estate’s assets and liabilities, Lord Kellington. Do you have any significant personal assets?”

Rob paid all his bills promptly and had enough savings to carry him easily through the ebb and flow of his work, but it wasn’t the kind of money Booth was asking about. “Sorry, no. I’ll have to work with what the estate produces.”

Sarah said hesitantly, “You once mentioned that when you left India, you gave some of your savings to your former employer to invest. How has that done?”

“I don’t really know,” he said, surprised. “I never think about the money I gave Fraser.” That was money for emergencies or old age, if he survived that long. “But in his last letter, he said my investment was doing well. I’ll write Fraser’s London office to find out just how well.”

“Wouldn’t Rob have been entitled to a younger son’s portion?” Sarah asked. “Marriage settlements always designate portions for daughters and younger sons.”

“He would have been entitled to ten thousand pounds,” the lawyer admitted. “But the money is long since gone.”

The dowager rapped her cane on the floor. “Booth, you must be tired from your travels. Sarah, ring for the butler to escort Mr. Booth to a room.” The words were courteous, but it was plainly a dismissal.

“Thank you, my lady.” Booth tucked away his papers and got to his feet. “I shall see you later, my lord. You’ll have more questions after you have time to absorb this.”

After the lawyer left and closed the door behind him, the dowager fixed Rob with a gimlet eye. “Don’t let go of any of the Kellington properties.”

“I might be able to save one or two, but certainly not all of them. Not when they’re all mortgaged to the hilt and in arrears.”

“All are sound properties and good long-term investments. Your grandfather and I chose them most carefully.”

“You and your husband worked closely together?” Sarah asked with interest.

“My father was a wealthy merchant so I cut my eyeteeth on business. My husband appreciated my knowledge.” The dowager frowned. “Your father was not inclined to listen to females.”

“Then he was a fool,” Sarah said firmly. “I suspect that if he’d listened to you, the estates would be in far better condition.”

“They would. But his first wife, Edmund’s mother, was interested only in extravagance and a fashionable life,” the dowager said waspishly. “Your mother wasn’t extravagant, Kellington, but she lacked an understanding of financial matters and left such things to her husband, which was a grave error.”

Her words gave Rob a better understanding of his grandmother’s bitter tongue. Her opinion of him must be improving because this was the first time she’d called him by his title. Up till now, she hadn’t really called him anything. “A man would have to be a fool to dismiss intelligent advice when offered.”

“You have much better sense than your father and brother,” his grandmother said tartly. “Give me the outline of repairs and investments you’re considering.”

Sarah handed the pages over. His grandmother skimmed the neat handwriting, nodding approval. “Quite intelligent, though you need to invest more in drainage for the southern fields. The crop yield will increase considerably if you do.”

“I don’t doubt it, but I don’t know where the money would come from. What projects would you suggest I delay in order to pay for more drainage?” he asked, an edge in his voice.

“You both seem quite sensible for young people,” the dowager said as she studied them with narrowed eyes. “I must say that I’m agreeably surprised.”

Amused, Rob said, “The feeling is mutual.”

“If you two aren’t careful, you’ll find yourselves in charity with each other,” Sarah contributed, equally amused.

The faintest of smiles flickered over the dowager’s face. “What would you do if there were no mortgages to pay on the unentailed property?”

“I’d evaluate each property,” Rob said slowly. “I suspect they haven’t been maintained as well as they should be, so the initial income would go to repairs and improvements. When properties become profitable, I’d put some of the income into savings and would consider new investments. But I’d want to know a good bit more about the subject before doing that.”

“Then start studying,” she said dryly. “I hold the mortgages for most of the unentailed properties.”

Sarah gasped and Rob stared at his grandmother. Trying to make sense of that, he asked, “Did you loan the money to my father in the first place?”

“Of course not. I always knew he was a bad risk.” She snorted. “I thoroughly disapproved of the mortgages and your father knew it so he borrowed elsewhere. I have my information sources so I kept track. When he died and the estate fell into Edmund’s hands, most of the bankers decided to cut their losses. I was able to acquire all the mortgages but for the manor in Derbyshire.”

“So you negotiated with them the way you advised Rob to do with the tradesmen?” Sarah asked with fascination.

“I bought them for about half the face value.”

“Madam, I bow to your superior business skills,” Rob said sincerely. “What do you plan to do with the mortgages? I doubt you trust me enough to just hand them over.”