Page 23 of The Duke of Lies
He was followed by a taller man with wider shoulders and bright blue eyes. This must be his grandson, the seemingly popular Thomas Entwhistle, who had charmed both the duchess and Beau.
And whom Kit wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hire. He well understood the duchess’s desire to employ her own choice, and he meant to exercise the same right.
Kit came around the desk and extended his hand. “Whist, it’s good to see you again.”
The older man stared at his hand a moment before cautiously shaking it. “Good morning, Your Grace. Allow me to present my grandson, Mr. Thomas Entwhistle.”
Entwhistle bowed and seemed even more reluctant to shake Kit’s hand. It was then that Kit finally understood that a duke shouldn’t be shaking his inferiors’ hands. Hell, he’d been doing it with the tenants since his arrival, and while they’d also hesitated, he hadn’t put it together.
Eager to put the awkward, and perhaps telling, moment behind them, he circled back around the desk and gestured for them to sit. “Thank you both for coming today. As you know, we are looking to employ a new steward.”
“Looking?” Whist said with surprise, his brows climbing. “Her Grace offered the position to Thomas.”
“I’m aware, but that was before I returned home. Now that I’m here, I will make the final decision.”
“But you dismissed Cuddy?” Entwhistle asked.
Kit’s invitation to this meeting had included the information that Cuddy was no longer serving as steward. He hadn’t indicated why, but imagined that sort of gossip traveled quickly across the estate. And Whist resided on the estate in a retirement cottage. This prompted Kit to say, “Whist, I’ve a tenant who needs to retire to a cottage where he can keep a small flock of sheep. Where he lives now is too much of a burden.”
“Bricker? He likely should’ve moved to a smaller place a few years ago.” Whist shook his head. “I offered my assistance to Cuddy from time to time—when he was new to the position—but I gave up when he never wanted it. I should’ve just checked on things myself.”
This was, of course, similar to the duchess’s regret. “Cuddy gave the appearance of doing an efficient job, and if the account books are to be believed at their face value, things are in excellent order.”
Entwhistle leaned slightly forward in his chair. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“Because I’m not. There should be a surplus based on what I’m hearing from tenants, but when I reviewed the books last night and this morning, I’m not seeing evidence of that.”
Whist eyed Kit skeptically, making Kit tense. “Forgive me for saying so, Your Grace, but your estate management experience isn’t very extensive. Thomas and I could review things and provide an expert opinion. But perhaps that’s why you summoned us here.”
Relief poured through Kit. So far, the man seemed not to recognize him for anything other than what he was—the Duke of Blackburn, Kit’s handshaking faux pas notwithstanding. With that fear somewhat laid to rest, Kit now found himself mildly annoyed by Whist’s judgment. Which was ludicrous because everything he’d learned about estate management had come seventeen years ago, and he’d never imagined he’d have occasion to put it to use. “Not primarily.” He’d invited them before his suspicions had taken root. “But now that I’ve reviewed the accounts, I find I have some questions. It seems the former duke—Augustus—spent outside his means. Is that an accurate assessment?”
Whist looked pained. “I’m afraid so. He liked to host parties and demonstrate his power and wealth. He also donated quite a bit of money to various charitable causes, particularly orphaned boys.”
Kit had seen entries in the journals to support that, but hearing Whist say it made his spine chill. He’d given money to other boys but, after a point, not to his own son. And now that Kit needed it, there seemed to be none to have. Or at least not as much as he’d hoped. And here he was spending money on a goat pen and shed. What the hell was wrong with him? He should’ve taken that money and gone. He needed a new ship and a new crew, not to build lodgings for goats.
And yet here he was with no intent to leave. At least not yet, not when there were things to be done and an opportunity to leave Beaumont Tower—and its denizens—better than he’d found them.
“I can see the duchess doesn’t spend like that. In fact, she runs a rather frugal household.”
“They’ve no need for extravagance,” Whist said a bit defensively.
“I didn’t say they did. However, if the estate is running similarly and the expenses have decreased, why is there no surplus?”
Whist and his grandson exchanged a look of concern.
“As it happens,” Kit said, “I would like you to review the accounts. Perhaps you can help me discover what’s gone wrong.”
Now Whist registered the surprise Kit had come to expect from damn near everybody on the bloody estate. The duke had been a right prick. Whist answered carefully. “We would be happy to, Your Grace. However, such a review would require us to interview every tenant and audit the information recorded in the journals. I must point out that Thomas is still, for a spell anyway, employed at Bleven House. He doesn’t have an excess of time to conduct an overview of Beaumont Tower in addition to his duties, particularly if you don’t plan to hire him.”
Meaning, if Kit would just hire him outright, everyone’s needs—and desires—could be met. Kit ought to just hire the man. Whist had been a damned good steward from everything Kit had heard, and he had to imagine the man’s grandson was no different.
Why was Kit hesitating? He’d be leaving soon. Or would he? He honestly didn’t know. He wasn’t going to take money to fund his ship—not until he was certain the estate wouldn’t suffer.
Kit turned his focus to Entwhistle. “When can you start?”
The man, who was perhaps five years Kit’s junior, straightened. “In a fortnight or so. I could come Sunday—it’s my day off—to begin the review, if that’s acceptable.”
“That is, thank you,” Kit said.
