The Alchemist's Key (3 page)

Wade thought he might fall asleep if the endless roll call of names, positions held and sums of money bequeathed didn’t come to an end soon.

But when he heard his name, Wade paid attention. ‘I bequeath the residue of my real and
personal estate, including Ashby Stables, to Wade Ashby, the thirteenth Baron.’

As there were others present, Robert Hapwood would only say that the estimated value of this part of the inheritance amounted to an eight figure sum.

Wade had to stop and think about it, but when he figured that Hapwood was talking of somewhere between ten and ninety-nine million dollars, he nearly had a stroke.

‘It is your grandfather’s wish that Tunstan Wilks and myself continue to advise you in regard to your family’s business holdings, as long as that is pleasing to you, Baron Ashby.’ The solicitor raised himself, and gave a slight bow. ‘Congratulations. You are a wealthy man.’

‘Is that all there is to it?’ Wade was startled out of his shock.

‘Your forefather’s have made it so,’ Hapwood reassured him. ‘I merely require your signature on a few documents, then Talbot Jenkins will see you to the manor. I realise you must be anxious to see the property.’

Hapwood motioned Wade to a seat in front of his desk, and held out a pen.

A
fter a closed meeting with Robert Hapwood, Wade was relieved to make it back outside for a breath of air. No fan of responsibility, Wade had always gone out of his way to avoid it. He could scarcely conceive of the huge sums of money Hapwood had been talking about, and the notion that he alone was in charge of it all, along with the livelihood of so many people, was starting to make Wade feel nauseous.

Andrew Jenkins emerged from the vintage Rolls Royce parked next to the sidewalk and opened the rear door. ‘Talbot, Dougal and Winston have gone on ahead to Ashby, my Lord. I took the liberty of collecting your luggage from the hotel.’

Wade cringed at the lad’s formal tone, but made no verbal protest. ‘Good-oh. Thanks, Andrew.’ He
climbed inside the vehicle to find Hugh reading the morning paper and smoking a fine cigar.

‘Another Rolls!’ Wade announced in an exaggeratedly bored fashion, collapsing into the comfortable leather seat.

‘I’m afraid so.’ Hugh turned the page. ‘Only, you own this one.’

‘You don’t say.’ Wade gave the lush interior a once-over. ‘I have great taste.’

The drive down to Ashby took them until well into the afternoon, as they had stopped to have lunch at a country cafe.

Wade indulged in a few drinks from the built-in bar during the second half of their journey, and smoked nearly a whole packet of cigarettes. It was getting to that time of day when he usually settled down with his computer and a fat joint.

‘Hey, Andrew,’ Wade leaned over the back of the driver’s seat to have a chat with him. ‘You’re an enterprising young lad. You wouldn’t happen to know where I might score myself some dope, perchance?’

‘Er, no, my Lord,’ Andrew stammered, almost breaking into a sweat at the question.

‘It’s cool.’ Wade patted his shoulder to calm him, before collapsing back into his seat beside Hugh. ‘Isn’t that just typical,’ he grumbled. ‘I can never
afford the bloody stuff, and now I’m worth millions, I can’t find it!’ He lit another cigarette instead.

‘Well, Amsterdam is not far from here,’ Hugh suggested, in jest.

‘Brilliant!’ Wade played along, ‘Andrew, to Amsterdam.’

‘Ah …’ The chauffeur became flustered. ‘If it pleases my Lord, there might be a closer source.’

Wade and Hugh looked to each other, both sporting a mischievous grin. ‘It would seem young Andrew has been holding out on us.’ Wade gave his new driver the old chug on the shoulder. ‘Chill out, Andy, old buddy, old pal … if what you say is true, you’ll be in my employ for life.’

‘He’s quite serious,’ added Hugh.

‘As it pleases, my Lord. I shall arrange it.’ Andrew breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Wade in his rear-view mirror. Wade was obviously delighted with the situation. ‘My Lord?’

‘Yes, Andy,’ responded Wade, all chipper.

The young chauffeur was hesitant to make his request, but he was more afraid of not voicing it. ‘It might be advisable not to mention this arrangement to my father. He’s a little old fashioned about such things.’

‘That goes without saying, my good man. It shall be our little secret.’

After a short detour to the local pub, Wade and Hugh were as high as kites by the time they reached the turreted gatehouse that marked the entrance to Ashby Manor. The gates opened by remote control, chauffeur operated from inside the car.

‘That’s a relief,’ commented Wade when he discovered this. ‘For a minute there, I thought we were haunted.’

Andrew, who was stoned from just being in the car, gave a chuckle. ‘That doesn’t mean we don’t have ghosts, my Lord.’

‘O … o … o … oooooh!’ Hugh and Wade joined in with a duo of creepy moans before looking out of the window to the tree-lined drive and the beautiful grounds and gardens beyond.

‘So all this is my property,’ Wade assumed calmly.

‘My Lord, we’ve been on your property for the last ten minutes.’

The shock of the statement spurred Hugh and Wade to laughter.

‘What?’ Wade peeled himself off the seat. ‘Do you mean to say that all that bush belongs to me?’

‘That it does.’

‘And what am I meant to do with it?’

‘You hunt in it, my Lord.’

‘Hunt!’ Hugh and Wade collapsed into hysterics again. Wade couldn’t kill an insect, let alone an animal.

Their laughter ceased as the manor came into view, causing Wade to mouth a four-letter word that expressed his feeling of awe beautifully.

‘I can’t wait to view the architecture,’ uttered Hugh. ‘Just look at that dome,’ he drooled.

His friend’s obvious worship of the structure disturbed Wade. ‘Steady on there, Hugh! It’s not as if it were a beautiful set of breasts. It’s just a dome!’

Andrew bit his lip in an unsuccessful attempt not to laugh.

‘See, Andy agrees with me.’ Wade acknowledged the chauffeur’s chuckle.

‘Sorry, Excellency, but it’s not that. If I might direct your attention to the fountain.’

The fountain was the central feature of a roundabout at the end of the drive, and was in itself a work of art. The great stone structure was adorned with marble sea nymphs and mermaids who beckoned you around to the front of the house. The half-naked beauties who dwelt on the far side of the fountain bade farewell as visitors departed the manor.

‘Now, there’s something worth admiring.’ Wade
lowered his sunglasses to inspect the craftsmanship. ‘Taste,’ he decided.

‘True perfection,’ agreed Hugh.

Talbot and the rest of the staff awaited Baron Ashby and his guest on the pillared veranda above a flight of sandstone stairs.

There was one new face among them, that of a woman, Rosia Hobbs. She was the wife of Winston, the cook, and was responsible for the cleaning of the manor. ‘We are so pleased to have you home, my Lord.’ She curtsied, clasping her hands to her heart. ‘The last time I saw you, you were just a little boy.’

Wade was stunned by the comment. ‘I’m sorry. Did we live here before my father shifted us to Australia?’

‘Yes, Excellency,’ Talbot intervened, thinking the young Baron had probably had enough excitement for one day. ‘But as you were little more than a toddler at the time, I doubt very much if you would recall your time at Ashby.’

Curious to see if Talbot was right, Wade entered the foyer that opened onto a huge two-storey hall and staircase.

‘Perhaps that’s why you’ve never worried about money,’ Hugh whispered as they entered the Great Hall. ‘Because subconsciously you remember you don’t have to.’

But Wade wasn’t listening. The antique weaponry and armour that lined the walls had captured his full attention. ‘My God,’ was all he could say.

‘That’s nothing.’ Hugh drew Wade’s attention to the ceiling, which was one huge painting. It depicted a raging sea battle between Spanish galleons and English frigates in a bygone era.

‘Cadiz Harbour,’ Wade decided.

‘That would be my guess.’

Talbot, having dismissed the staff, moved ahead of Wade to guide him. ‘Allow me to show you to your rooms.’ The butler proceeded up the staircase in front of Wade and Hugh, his son trailing behind with the first load of baggage.

The stairs led to a round chamber that housed the dome. At forty-two feet in diameter and twenty feet in height the room was huge; the dome rose to a circular skylight that added warmth from the light flooding in. Everything therein was curved: the doors and bookcases, the settees, and even the paintings sat snug to the wall. The fireplace opposite the staircase was neatly inset in its own little circular niche.

Though this magnificent chamber was now little more than a picture gallery, Hugh explained that it would once have been the saloon — the
place for pre-dinner drinks, music and general chitchat.

‘Andrew will show you to your room, Mr Prescott,’ Talbot advised. ‘If you would follow me, Excellency.’

The butler and his son parted ways, Talbot to the door that led to the west wing, and Andrew to the matching door on the east side of the picture gallery.

‘We simply must do dinner,’ Wade suggested in the most baronial English accent he could muster.

‘I’ll check my schedule,’ replied Hugh, as he pursued Andrew and his luggage.

Wade followed the butler through a hallway that resembled a small room. This had a door at the far end, and a door directly opposite the one they’d just passed through — the latter of which Talbot opened.

‘Should you be so inclined, my Lord, this is the music room,’ the butler advised as Wade entered behind him.

Wade was glad of the information, as there was nothing which indicated that this was the room’s purpose.

‘Your late grandfather, though a great admirer of the arts, proved not so musically gifted himself.’

‘Must run in the family,’ Wade considered out loud.

The room had a superb aspect, however, and he decided on the quiet that it might serve as a good place to set up his computers. The only other doors in the room were to Wade’s left, which was the closest wall to him as he entered. ‘Through here is your drawing room.’ Talbot opened the big double doors to reveal a cozy lounge and dining room all rolled into one.

‘Seems like the wrong sort of furniture. I expected a draftsman’s desk or an easel, maybe?’ Wade planted himself in the most comfortable-looking chair, positioned right by the fireplace.

‘The drawing room was formally known as the withdrawing room, my Lord. So called because it is the place to which you withdraw after dinner. Or, if dining intimately, as you shall wish to do this evening, this room also serves that purpose.’

Wade smiled at the butler’s informative commentary, so artfully delivered. ‘My thoughts exactly, Talbot. It does seem better suited for just that.’ Wade sprang from the chair, eager to see what was next.

The door on the far side of the drawing room granted entrance to the main bedchamber, which, other than the domed gallery, was the most
extravagant room Wade had seen so far. The four-poster bed supported a canopied ceiling shrouded in valances and curtains of deep red velvet.

Paintings of love, marriage and seduction graced the walls, and a large bay window overlooked the fountain of nymphs at the front of the house. ‘What a babe trap,’ Wade mumbled.

‘Pardon?’ Talbot missed the comment.

‘Oh, nothing. Is this the bathroom?’ Wade found another door, and opened it to investigate.

‘Your dressing room, my Lord.’ Talbot followed him in.

‘Was he overweight, my grandfather?’ Wade thought the size of the chamber excessive. ‘You could dress a whole army in here.’

‘No, my Lord,’ Talbot smiled. ‘In the early days of this house, dressing rooms served as a place for meetings of the secret variety.’

‘Lovers?’ Wade queried, thinking the bedchamber more appropriate.

‘More like one’s private counsellors and advisors.’ Talbot corrected the misconception. ‘Hence the room’s size to accommodate several men at once, if need be.’

This room also overlooked the fountain, and on the opposite wall to the feature window was a door that led to the bathroom.

This, too, was a room of regal majesty, containing a bath four times larger than one would expect. The polished black slate bath was sunk in a raw black slate floor, and the shower was a room unto itself. Sculptures of beautiful maidens graced all four corners of the bath and large three-tiered candelabras adorned the walls.

‘Your grandfather would only ever bathe by candlelight,’ Talbot explained.

‘Different,’ Wade granted. ‘I’ll have to try it.’

‘After dinner, perhaps?’ Talbot suggested.

The notion struck Wade as appealing. ‘That would be good. Thanks.’

‘As you are no doubt very tired and eager to rest, I shall have dinner for my Lord and his guest served in the drawing room within the hour. Is that pleasing to Your Excellency?’

Wade was cringing again. The formality of his title was really starting to bug him. ‘You read my mind.’

‘Then, may I ask why you frown so?’

‘I’m having a bit of a problem with all this “Your Excellency”, “my Lord” stuff. I suppose addressing me as Wade is out of the question?’

‘Absolutely,’ Talbot advised.

‘How about plain old Sir?’ Wade met him halfway.

‘In private that would be acceptable.’ Talbot acknowledged. ‘Now, if there is nothing else you require of me, Sir, I shall leave you to settle in. Andrew will deliver your luggage presently.’

‘I am a content and happy man.’ Wade gave the butler his leave to go about his business.

It was midday when Talbot delivered a hot breakfast to the new Baron, complete with coffee and the morning papers.

Thanks to a superb three-course meal the night before, Wade did not get the chance to soak in his tub or explore his new house. A few glasses of port by the fire had left him out like a light on the chair in the drawing room.

He was therefore surprised to awake in bed, stripped to his underwear.

Talbot put the breakfast tray aside to place a warm robe around Wade’s shoulders as Wade hoisted himself from beneath the bedcovers. ‘Good morning, Sir. I trust you slept well.’

‘Weird dreams,’ he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

‘Well, that’s not really surprising, when one considers the upheaval you’ve experienced these past few days.’ Talbot placed the breakfast tray in front of the Baron and moved to draw the curtains open.

Wade reached for the coffee, frowning as he struggled to capture the gist of the dream. ‘I was walking through the house … this house.’ He took a sip of coffee, discovering that the flavour was as euphoric as the aroma. ‘I passed through the round room, down the stairs and out the front door. I went left to the far side of the house …’ He indicated in an easterly direction … ‘and I came to the most amazing place.’

Talbot, knowing the area, took a guess. ‘The gazebo, Sir?’

‘No,’ Wade replied, sounding terribly disillusioned. ‘You mean, it’s not really there?’ He placed his breakfast aside and scrambled out of bed.

‘To what do you refer, Sir?’ Talbot inquired, as Wade tied on his robe and started searching for his trousers. ‘Your clothes are in the dressing room, my Lord.’

‘Uh!’ Wade cautioned, charging into the huge walk-in closet to find the few clothes he’d brought with him unpacked into one small corner.