Oh, I hope they don’t bring news. Or if they do, may it at least be good news.
He found them in the study, engaged in an enthusiastic debate over which opera they intended to see. They didn’t even acknowledge him as he entered and sat down at his desk. Growing tired of their bickering, Anthony finally cut in to say, “Now, now, that’s quite enough of that. Why don’t you go see both operas on separate nights?” Annoyed at this simple—yet profound—solution, Kenneth immediately changed the focus of the issue.
Turning to Anthony he retorted,“Well, I guess it’s all the same to you, good sir. No matter which operas Colin and I see or where we take supper or where we go drinking, you are never with us. You would rather sit alone locked up with your paperwork than spend an exciting night out with your closest friends.”
Unable to deny this allegation, Anthony returned with, “And precisely what is it that renders your nights more exciting than mine, old boy?” He couldn’t help but smile as he made this remark. He had known Kenneth Jeffries—or as he was known to others, The Earl of Farellshire—since their first day together at Harrowston Academy. So, he knew quite well how to get under his skin.
But Kenneth wasn’t taking the bait this time. Instead, he looked to Colin, the eldest in the room by only four months. He, too, went to Harrowston Academy, but Anthony had known him long before that. Their families were close friends, so they had practically been together from the moment they could crawl. To acquaintances, Colin was known as Colin Mortcombe, Baron Gillinghamshire. And like Anthony, Colin too had recently lost his mother.
Lazily stretching his arms as he rose from his chair, Colin declared, “Oh, it’s hopeless, Kenneth. Nothing we say will convince him. Look at the pride with which he sits behind that desk. His Grace revels in the power and wealth of his dukedom. Come now, let us pay deference to him.”
This last sentence was said with a playful bow and impish smile. Almost immediately, Kenneth followed suit. As it turned out, they were also quite capable of getting under Anthony’s skin.
Anthony decided he better change the subject lest his friends end up injuring their backs from their repeated, high-spirited bows. Rather bluntly, he asked, “Oh, quit beating around the bush, you two. Why on earth are you here so early? I’d fully expected both of you to be passed out and hungover at this hour. In fact, why are you here at all?” Hearing this, both friends rushed to straighten their backs at once, very nearly knocking each other over in their haste.
Both men pulled their chairs up to Anthony’s desk. Being the older one, Colin took it upon himself to elaborate, “Truth be told, we came to check up on you, Anthony. We haven’t heard from you at all since the last time we spoke. So we decided to call again, just to be sure you were well.”
Oh, that’s right!
Almost exactly a month ago, Colin and Kenneth called on Anthony. It was a week after his mother had passed away. Like the true friends that they were, they reassured him of their support during the call. And even after they went back to their rooms in town, they often wrote to him to inquire how he was doing. He always intended to reply, but kept putting it off due to other things that required his attention.
And now here they were, calling on him again out of concern. Rather sheepishly, Anthony expressed his appreciation for their fraternal anxiety. He further went on to apologize for worrying them and explained, “Frankly, the adjustment has not been as smooth as I had hoped. With great effort, I was finally able to sort out the paperwork, the property, and what have you. But there’s still the matter of my sister.”
With furrowed brow, Kenneth inquired, “What do you mean? Oh! But of course, the poor child must sorely miss your mother.”
Anthony shrugged, “Yes, that’s what I thought. And, of course, that much I understand. In truth I—” he paused briefly, “I also miss her. But the problem is that I have no idea how to take care of Cecilia or help her move on.”
Insightfully, Kenneth observed, “Understandably, Cecilia’s young mind is struggling to cope with such a traumatic event. And if even she cannot understand or process her own emotions, then how are you supposed to do so?”
Anthony rubbed his temples and exhaled, “That is just the question I’ve been trying to answer for the last month. The only solution I could devise was to hire a governess.”
“Do you mean to say that you have already hired one?” Colin asked, with both eyebrows raised.
“Yes. I sent Fletcher out to recruit a suitable one. In fact, she just arrived this morning. Not at all what I had expected, but I trust Fletcher’s judgment in these matters.”
“Oh? Do you think her to be too old?”
Emphatically shaking his head, Anthony said, “On the contrary, I worry that she is too young. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. She had a head of fiery red hair that starkly contrasted her soft-spoken demeanor. Yes, she might be too young and too soft-spoken to act as a stabilizing maternal presence for Cecilia, which was what I was originally hoping for. But Fletcher assures me that she will also be good for her.”
“In that case, consider the matter closed,” smiled Kenneth. “After all, Cecilia now has what she needs. Now it’s time to think about what you require.”
Rolling his eyes, Anthony knew exactly what he was about to say, “Kenny, don’t you start again with that whole marriage business. I need to focus on caring for the estate.”
“But don’t you see? Taking a wife is exactly the best way to care for the estate. It is your moral and social duty to produce an heir. And who knows? Perhaps the dullness of married life will suit you. After all, you take to mundaneness like a moth to a flame.”
Before Anthony could retaliate, Colin butt in, “Leave off him, Kenneth. He’ll settle down when he feels like it, that’s that.”
This was always the way amongst the three friends. Whenever two of them had opposing views, the third would step in either to mediate or to break a tie. The rest of their conversation focused on the stock exchange and similar matters until Mrs. Oakley called them for luncheon.
* * *
“And that’s all I know, Miss Meyer. I only started working here last Autumn.”
Meredith thanked Philippa for her help and gave her half of her luncheon as promised. Philippa filled her pockets with the forbidden food and left. Meredith then munched on her remaining sandwiches which, unsurprisingly, tasted absolutely divine. But she could not fully relish any of the good food or the marvelous freshly-squeezed orange juice, for she was distracted by everything she had just learned.
Meredith now had a better understanding of the current situation. The late Duke of Sherriden, Edmund Ambrose—the Duke’s father—passed away roughly nine years ago. But his wife, the Duchess of Sherriden, Theodora Ambrose, passed away only last month. On both occasions, the Duke did not shed a single tear.
Philippa had learned from the other staff that His Grace, Anthony Ambrose, not lived on this estate for many years. He had been sent to a private school at only 8 years of age and even during his university days rarely ever visited. It was only towards the end of last summer—when the late Duchess’ health had begun to fail her—that His Grace officially began living on the estate again.
