George took a breath. The line of mourners had diminished, when a gentleman he did not know, came up to him. He was a portly, well-dressed gentleman with an air of authority.
“Your Grace, let me introduce myself. I am Sir Cuthbert Honeyfield,” he said nodding. “I knew your father well, and I must say it was a great shock when I learned of his accident.”
“Thank you, Sir. He will certainly be missed. And what was your connection to my father?” George asked, remembering that he needed to be more engaged in the family business and would be required to know all of his father’s contacts.
“I am the director of the London Wool Exchange, and he and I crossed paths frequently. We often supped together when he was up to London on business.”
“I am most grateful that you came all this way to pay your respects. I expect our paths shall cross again as I take over the responsibilities of the estate.”
Sir Cuthbert took a step closer and asked in almost a whisper, “If you do not mind me asking, Your Grace, who is the gentleman standing over there by the Duchess?”
George looked toward his mother and saw that Harold was the only gentleman standing nearby.
“That is my estate manager, Mr. Harold Brighton. Do you know him?”
Sir Cuthbert looked troubled. “I might. Do you happen to know if he was in any way connected to the late Charles and Elizabeth Bartlett?”
George was surprised that he would know that. “He was their ward. He lived with them for many years after he was discovered as an orphan by the Bartletts when he was only eight or ten years old. In point of fact, it is his sister, Lucy, who is at this moment speaking with the Duchess, who drew him to us. He came to Grayson manner looking for her after all these years. They believed each other lost in the fire that made them orphans.”
“Tragic story, to be sure. But how much do you know about that young man—other than what he has told you?”
George detected a note of censure in the man’s voice and turned to him. “Sir? You surprise me by your line of questioning. Do you have anything to say against the gentleman? He has exhibited nothing but exemplary behavior to me and the family. And he has been a most able and trustworthy manager in the time he has been with us.”
“Your Grace, if I might…” Sir Cuthbert nodded, indicating he wished to speak more privately, and they walked aside where they could not be overheard.
“What do you wish to tell me?” George asked.
Sir Cuthbert kept his eye on Harold across the room as he asked, “What has he told you of his background?”
“That he was raised by the Bartletts. That he attended Eaton and Cambridge and started as an apprentice in the family wool business. He said he worked his way up to a senior position and when Charles Bartlett died, Harold was left the business, which he subsequently sold. He has decided to settle here in Dorset with his sister—as this is where they are from. And currently, he has worked most satisfactorily for my father these past few months.”
Sir Cuthbert rubbed his chin and appeared troubled.
“Do you have any facts to contradict his story?” George asked.
“Your Grace, I am afraid I do. And this is not just my story but can be verified by stories published in past issues ofThe Times.”
George became very grave. “Please, Sir Cuthbert, I should like to hear what you have to say about these matters. But not here. Please, if you do not mind, I should like us to go to my study. But first, I must take a moment or two to care for my guests.”
He nodded. “Your Grace, I am at your service.” Then he stepped away.
George was gravely upset. If there was a problem with Harold, might there also be a problem with Lucy? But that was absurd, for Harold and his sister had not been in touch since the fire, and she had no knowledge that her brother was even alive. Also, George thought, he and Lucy had grown up together, and he believed he knew her intimately—they were like brother and sister.
George went first to check on his mother.
“Mother, how are you holding up? Has the day been a terrible strain on you?”
She picked up Princess and squeezed her to her breast. The puppy wiggled to free herself, but the Duchess put her down again in her lap.
“It has been a horror of a day, but I am faring well enough, under the circumstances. However, I shall be greatly relieved when it is over. And please do not expect me at dinner this evening.”
“But Mother, we have many distinguished guests from London who have come to pay their respects to Father and will be staying the night. How will it look if you are not in attendance at dinner? You must consider how rude that will appear to them after they have come all this way in Father’s honor.”
His mother pursed her lips, took up her fan and fanned herself, before saying, “Very well, but I shall excuse myself at breakfast. You may tell them that my grief is just too great.”
George smiled. “Yes, Mother. I feel certain that will be acceptable.
George cast a quick glance at Harold before he went to check with Stevens that all was well in hand, instructing him to take care of the guests, as he needed to excuse himself for a short while.
