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He had been fond of their fidgety old uncle and knew the tragic death of the elderly man’s sons would hurt, but it had sent him into a depression from which he had never recovered.
Now, Glen had to step up to his new title and extraordinary wealth. He wasn’t happy about it. She knew he didn’t want all the responsibilities that came with a dukedom. He had been enjoying a carefree life with just enough of the ‘ready’ to keep him comfortable. Now he had far too many homes, too much land, too many tenants to remember … on and on he had complained to her just the night before.
She had agreed to attend him at Somerset as he made the transition into his new position, but she was already missing her Freddy.
She had, however, brought a list of things that needed attention. She was his elder, and she knew he loved her and would listen to her about some matters though not about others. The trick was to find a happy middle ground.
It would take some doing, but, in the end, she knew he would do what needed to be done. Even now, here was Mr. Curtis waiting on him, and he was late! She turned, patted her soft curls of auburn, and said, “I see my brother now, coming up the drive, sir.”
“Aye, do you? Well, he is already ten minutes late,” Mr. Curtis said impatiently. “I am not used to this sort of treatment. His uncle was ever punctual.”
She said nothing to this and stopped herself from rolling her eyes but thought, Oh no, this is not a very good start.
* * *
Glen Ashton, present duke of Somerset, walked into the library, where a lovely fire burned, and put out his arms for his sister.
He adored Daphne, even though she was a bit of a stickler. She was pretty and scarcely looked more than five and twenty though her years were five and thirty. She was still slim and lively, though at times a bit sad, as she and her Freddy had not been fortunate enough to have children.
She was a warm-hearted creature, and if she would only stop lecturing him, he would enjoy her company always.
He could see Curtis looking irritated and not trying to hide it as he turned from his sister, who was introducing him to the solicitor. He took Curtis’s extended hand with a polite greeting and then stepped away, moving to the small fire burning in the grate.
He inclined his head as his sister approached, and once again he put out his arms to give her a hug.
“Mr. Curtis has been waiting a good fifteen minutes, Glen,” she said reprovingly.
The duke looked towards his solicitor and said, “Do forgive me, Mr. Curtis. I lost track of time, but I see you have enjoyed a cup of tea with my sister.”
Curtis allowed this and conceded, “Ah, yes, and excellent company she is.”
Daphne went to her lady’s chair, sat, and raised the pot of tea. “Tea, dearest?” she asked her brother.
“No, thank you,” he said and moved to sit across from Curtis in a winged leather chair. “I suppose Curtis here would like to get on with it.” He knew he wanted to do so. He was heartily sick of all the pomp, ceremony, absurdities of paperwork, and other such legal things.
Mr. Curtis, who had stood to greet the duke and shake his hand, took a place on the dull maroon damask sofa, spreading his coat tails and sighing before saying, “Your Grace, there are a few matters we must discuss.”
“I am sure there are,” the duke responded quietly.
“These matters can no longer be put off,” Curtis continued and waved off the plate of pastry Lady Daphne offered his way.
Daphne smiled and set the plate back down. The duke raised a brow and waited.
“I mean to take the liberty afforded me by my age and my long service to your late uncle. I believe that your duty is at hand and cannot be put off any longer.”
The young duke’s lips set firmly. He would not be dictated to. However, because mentally he allowed Curtis had a point, he did not respond at that juncture. Besides that, he knew just what was coming.
“I have spoken to you about this matter once before. You owe it to your uncle’s memory not to neglect it.”
“My uncle, I believe, neglected the matter of which you speak for nearly a year,” the duke interjected.
“Your uncle was too ill to get about as he wished. After he lost his sons … he was … despondent,” Curtis answered quietly.
The duke raised his chin, but the point was well taken. There was nothing for it. He was trapped in a position he would not be able to escape from at all.
“I thought you comprehended the severity of the situation? I thought you understood what your duty in this regard was?” Curtis said on a grave note of disapproval.
“I advised you that m’sister would be more than willing to attend to the matter for me—”
