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Alex steered the phaeton towards the kerb outside his lawyer’s offices. He scoured his mind for some memory of the Dewey family and details of the calamity that had befallen them. A few years ago his father had still been alive and Alex had been serving on the Continent as a colonel in Wellington’s army. A great deal of the London tattle had passed him by. But he doubted his mother would have forgotten it if it had been noteworthy at the time. The Dowager Lady Blackthorne was noted for her fine memory. She was not a gossipmonger, but neither did anything interesting elude her. Alex realised it might be time to pay his mother an overdue visit...
* * *
‘If you would sign these documents, my lord, the transfer of Grantham Place will be finalised in the next day or two.’ Mr Tremaine gave his august client a dry smile, wondering why the fellow seemed rather apathetic about acquiring the land that abutted Blackthorne Hall and would increase his acreage considerably. Previously the viscount had seemed impatient to have it. Now the deal was done the victory seemed to be of little note.
Alex took up the pen and swept his name over the parchment that had been pushed towards him on Tremaine’s leather-topped desk. He had honoured the price he had first offered James Whittiker, although he knew he could have negotiated a discount once it became common knowledge the fellow had again lost heavily at Almack’s faro table. Alex was aware, but for that setback, James would never have grudgingly taken up his offer.
‘Oh...and just one more item for you to have, sir.’ Mr Tremaine had noticed his client getting immediately to his feet as though impatient to be gone. ‘You will recall, my lord, that your uncle Thomas Venner bequeathed you something. It was to be handed over once you had attained the age of thirty and only if you had taken your birthright.’
Alex nodded. At the back of his mind it struck a chord that he’d been mentioned in his uncle’s will. Alex didn’t expect it to be anything of value; his mother’s brother had been known as a gambler and a spendthrift who, despite being a prolific womaniser, had died a cash-strapped bachelor. But Alex had liked him and Thomas had returned the sentiment.
‘And if I had turned thirty while my father was still alive?’
‘The document was to be destroyed, unopened. I calculate you turned thirty last month so the letter can be released to you.’ Tremaine pulled open a drawer and drew forth a folded parchment sealed with scarlet wax.
Alex turned it in his hands. ‘Did he confide in you as to what this might be?’
‘He did not, my lord.’ Tremaine sniffed disapprovingly. ‘I rather fear it is a catalogue of his debts. That would be reason enough for your uncle to want the document withheld in your father’s lifetime. I’m aware that the old viscount did not approve of his brother-in-law,’ Mr Tremaine said with some understatement. He knew the men had hated one another. ‘Of course, if it is such a list, you are not legally obliged to pay any of it.’ He snapped his head at the letter.
‘Why wait till I turned thirty to present me with a roll-call of his creditors?’ Alex asked. ‘My father has been gone two years.’
‘It is not unknown for some people to defer in that way.’ Mr Tremaine’s sunken features lifted in a rare smile. ‘They think to salve their consciences by leaving a list for a rich relative to settle...but not too soon, you see, just in case some of the fellows demanding payment have had the good manners to also shuffle off this mortal coil.’
With a dry chuckle Alex dropped the document into a pocket and departed.
Mr Tremaine shook his head in disbelief. Not many fellows would have taken that news so lightly, but then Viscount Blackthorne had inherited from his father an estate with significant yields, and since then had greatly added to the family wealth with shrewd and successful land deals. Nevertheless, Tremaine knew the late Thomas Venner’s debts were swingeing enough to make even a young millionaire wince at the idea of settling them.
He was aware the viscount was reputed to be a rogue with the ladies. Tremaine’s opinion was that his lordship was ridiculously benevolent when he tired of a mistress. He knew this because it invariably fell to him to arrange pensions for those paramours.
In business matters Alex Blackthorne was nobody’s fool, but a fair opponent, hence his refusal to snap up Whittiker’s estate at a knock-down price despite all parties being conscious he could have done so. In matters relating to kith and kin Alex was magnanimous to a fault, as his friend Hugh Kendrick could testify. No doubt his late uncle had also noticed and schemed to make use of that trait, post mortem.
