“He insisted it’s not what it seems. He told me the funds in the books are pledges, not donations. Pledges that will be followed up on,” Kenneth explained, thinking back to the conversation he’d just had with the Earl.
He’d never liked the man. His own father had not been fond of him either—not that the late Duke of Wells was a good judge ofcharacter or someone to look up to. Indeed, Kenneth had paid no mind to any of the causes his late father was invested in, such was his dislike for the man. But the orphanage was different, for it had been a cause close to Edward’s heart. Therefore, Kenneth made it his business to ensure that everything was done by the book.
Lately, he’d been led to believe that such was not the case because whenever he visited the orphanage, things that ought to have been paid for, such as the construction of the new schoolhouse, had not. As the chairman of the orphanage, the Earl of Carlisle—or rather Walter, as he liked to be called—was the one responsible for such funds.
He was also a man who was all but impossible to catch when one needed him, hence Kenneth’s sudden appearance at his estate.
Leonard arched an eyebrow. “Do you believe him?”
A contemplative sigh escaped Kenneth’s lips. “I’m not entirely convinced. I’ve heard from peers who claim they’ve already given their contributions. But…” He paused. “I suppose I’m willing to give the Earl another chance. He asked me to join him at Hyde Park tomorrow. He is taking his daughters and wife to the promenade and wishes to discuss the matter in more detail. Today, he said, he has appointments.”
Leonard pursed his lips playfully. “So, it sounds as though it was a brief meeting. Then how come I was left to read no fewer than seven chapters of Ann Radcliffe’s latest?” He waved the book in front of him with an impish grin.
“There were other challenges. You won’t believe the encounter I had with the Earl’s daughter.” Kenneth shook his head, recounting the difficulties he faced in securing a meeting with the Earl. As he spoke, he felt the indignation from earlier resurface.
“The Earl’s daughter, you say?” Leonard asked and turned to face him.
“A spirited young lady by the name of Joanna. She caught me off guard with her audacity. I barely got a word in before she accused me of being rude.”
Leonard laughed heartily. “Ah, a woman who challenges you!I dare say, she sounds like a good match for you. That’s what you need, Kenneth. Someone to keep you on your toes.”
Kenneth rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh, spare me your matchmaking schemes, Leonard. We’re talking about the Earl of Carlisle’s daughter, not a potential bride.”
Leonard chuckled, throwing an arm around Kenneth’s shoulders. “My dear friend, I’ve known you since we were boys. I can’t resist the opportunity to inject a little excitement into your life. A spirited earl’s daughter might be just what you need!”
“I dare say, if you wish to remain my friend, you had better stop right now,” Kenneth warned playfully.
He and Leonard had been best friends since they were children. After the terrible loss of his beloved brother Edward, Kenneth had been sullen and withdrawn, uninterested in the world, until he’d met Leonard at Eton. The two had struck up a firm friendship immediately.
Leonard, who had become a duke at an impossibly young age due to his father’s premature death, understood Kenneth like nobody else could, and the bond this mutual understanding formed stood firm to this day.
“Very well, I shall not tease you, lest you open the door and throw me out, but…” Leonard couldn’t resist a teasing grin. “Kenneth, my friend, do you think you’ll have the pleasure of encountering the spirited Lady Joanna again tomorrow?”
Kenneth chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. “One can only hope that I will be better prepared for that spitfire and know how to put her in her place. Although, I suspect my visit might be more focused on financial matters than engaging in banter with the Earl’s daughter.”
Leonard raised an eyebrow playfully. “Ah, but what a delightful diversion that would be!”
Their banter continued until the carriage came to a stop and they found themselves at Kenneth’s estate. The two alighted from the carriage and made their way toward the manor when Jones, Kenneth’s butler, opened the door.
“Your Grace,” he said as Kenneth ascended the narrow stone front steps. “You have a caller.”
“A caller?” Kenneth echoed, a little out of sorts. He’d planned for an afternoon of billiards with Leonard, not for entertaining callers.
He stepped into the entrance hall, Leonard and Jones at his heels.
“Indeed. The Dowager Duchess of Wells is here,” Jones informed him as he took his top hat and coat.
Kenneth’s brow furrowed in surprise. “My mother? What brings her here?”
Before the butler could reply, the click clacks of half-boots echoed across the black and white marble floor, and the Dowager Duchess appeared in the hall.
Diana Stratford, the Dowager Duchess of Wells, was clad in a simple lavender gown, though she still looked as regal and elegant as ever. Now that her mourning period was officially over, she was slowly returning to wearing colorful dresses—something that had been her trademark before her husband’s sudden death.
“Mother,” Kenneth said in a formal tone that betrayed his apprehension.
“Kenneth,” she replied and then turned to Leonard. “Duke,” she said, curtsying.
“Duchess,” Leonard replied, bowing.
