Page 23 of A Duchess to Fight For
He bowed again, and Mendon opened the door.
*****
“Mendon, I need your help.”
“Certainly, Your Grace.”
“I lost a parchment that is very important. I’ve run it over in my mind, and I can’t remember where I put it.
“It’s a one-page document with the words ‘insurance policy’ on the top. The name on the policy is Barton St John, Duke of Hamilton.”
“Is the document dated, Your Grace?”
Frederick stopped and remained still, thinking about the date.
He always dated his documents, but he was beginning to question himself. “I don’t remember when it was drawn up. It was around the time I was studying the copper mine. If you see any of those documents, check the dates.” Frederick shook his head. “This isn’t like me. I’m surprised I’m in this predicament.”
“I was thinking the very same thing, Your Grace.”
“Mendon, you take that table there, and I’ll take my desk and credenza.”
Mendon bowed and said, “I’ll return once I find someone to take my place.”
Frederick grunted and didn’t look up from what he was doing.
Both men began to work in silence, the only sound the shuffling of parchment and the opening and closing of folders. For hours, they looked through every document in every folder in the room.
Mendon opened and shut every cabinet in the room thoroughly searching. “It may be time to go through this room and do a thorough cleaning,” he said dryly.
Frederick mumbled a response.
“Your Grace, I would like to search in the library.”
Frederick looked up. He had to pull the words into his brain as if they were coming through a block of wood. He blinked.
“Yes, I suppose you should.” He shook his head and went back to looking through the folder on his lap. Mendon left the room.
*****
Three days later, Barton was at the door. When Mendon announced him then led him into Frederick’s office, Barton saw him leaning over parchments laid on the floor in piles, there being at least twenty piles.
“No luck yet, Frederick?” Barton said.
Frederick stood up straight and arched his back. “Drink, Barton?”
Barton nodded.
Frederick handed Barton his drink and sat. He drank a generous portion of whisky and said, “No, not yet. I know it’s here somewhere. I can picture myself writing it out at my desk and putting it in the folder.
“I’ve talked to the insurance company, but unfortunately they cannot do anything for us without the stamped parchment. I knew that would be the response, but I couldn’t help myself from trying.”
“So, what is your plan for me, Frederick?” Barton said quietly.
“I have time. I’m going to look for it day and night until my ten days are up.”
Barton leaned forward in his seat. “And then?”
In an even voice, Frederick found it hard to conjure, he said, “Then I will pay you out of my pocket.”
