Chapter Five
Nick was beyond furious with his feckless coward of a brother, with his idiot father who hadn’t ever curtailed his brother’s stupidity, and yes, even with his mother who was likely far from ignorant of what had been happening and should have done something about it before it had reached critical mass.
Because now Nick was Duke Graves, and he had the plaster on his hand to prove it.
And as such, he was about to go and rain hell on his father.
He was now Lord Graves, and everything was Nick’s responsibility now.
He’d spent the afternoon with the secretaries for the palace, knew precisely how much in arrears the estate was and had needed to come up with a plan to fix it on the spot.
He slammed through the doors of the townhouse, marched up through the halls and threw open the doors to his father’s office. Only to be faced with an empty room. Had they fled? That was strange. He turned, only to nearly run into their butler.
“Their graces are dining with friends.” The unflappable man said calmly. “They should return shortly.”
“They still have friends?” Nick shut his eyes hard and inhaled. “I will be in here, alert me when they return.”
“Yes—”
“Your Grace,” he supplied, watching the man blanch and held up his bandaged hand.
“Yes, your Grace.” The butler bowed before turning and vanishing back down the hall.
“Saints all preserve me.” Nick turned back to the office, his office now, and clenched his hands into fists. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly.
He was sitting at the titanic oak desk going over a file when Lord Graves walked into the room with fury on his face.
Nick rose, raising his bandaged hand and holding it out towards his father. “By order of the king, I am now Duke Nicholas Graves.”
His father sputtered, blanched, and grabbed for the chair in front of him.
“And by order of the King, you are hereby ordered to remain under house arrest until the investigation concludes.” Nick pushed an envelope across the table towards him. “If you do not comply, you will be taken up, and we both know what that would do to Mother’s constitution.”
His father picked up the envelope and sat heavily, tearing the seal away and reading the letter. “I thought,” he set the letter back on the desk. “I thought with your brother having been taken up, that this would end.”
Nick sighed, “I cannot help you. Not without risking the duchy and Mother and I always swore I would do nothing that would risk her.”
“You need to talk to her.” His father sounded faint. “I was to escort Miss Warrick at her come out, but if I cannot leave the house—”
“I will handle it,” Nick said, trying to figure out why that name sounded familiar. “Just as I will handle the rest of this madness.” He rose, brushing past his father to go and see his mother.
Who was puttering around in the parlor with a dustcloth and the innumerable ornaments that littered every possible horizontal surface.
“There you are dear,” His mother handed the cloth off to a maid and came to brush a hand down his face. “How was your visit to his Majesty?”
“Difficult, but it is nothing that I am unable to handle.” He hid the bandage on his hand. He would let his father tell his mother what had happened. “Father said you went to luncheon?”
“Oh yes, I wanted to speak to you about that.” His mother led him over to the sofa and sat. “Now, dear, since your father is an unfathomable fool and you are duke now, I have to ask you a favor.”
“Wait—” Nick’s head was spinning. “Mother?”
“Surely you don’t believe me that large of a fool, Nicholas.
” His mother looked at him. “The only reason we haven’t lost it all is because the greater part of the duchy’s assets are mine by marriage.
And as Thomas was your father’s son, you are mine, and I signed them to you as soon as I got a hint as to what was happening. ”
Nick sat down heavily. “What do you need, Mother?”
“The season opens in two days.” She said carefully. “And I promised that Duke Graves would escort Miss Warrick to her come out. That means you now.”
“Miss Warrick?” That name again, why was it familiar?
His mother nodded. “Daughter of the Earl and Lady Warrick. Our neighbors, in fact.”
“Nell?” The name fell out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“Miss Eleanore Warrick.” His mother corrected. “Are you acquainted?”
“Not by any measure of polite society.” He huffed. “We’re both quite tired of formality and idiocy.”
“Then you’ll have a bit to discuss over tea tomorrow.” His mother smiled at him. “I think her color is baby blue, so be a dear and see if Peter can squeeze you in for a fitting. It would be quite nice if you had the correct color waistcoat.”
“I think I could use a bit of an outing.” Nick stood, bent to kiss his mother on top of her carefully done hair and left the townhouse.
Peter’s atelier was across town, on the very fringes of the artisans district, and anyone who was anyone in the ton patronized him, or if they were of the feminine persuasion, they went to Atelier Moonstone next door.
And as such, it was nearly impossible to just walk in. Which was what Peter’s secretary was in the middle of telling him when the man himself walked out of the back room.
“So the prodigal returns, right into the shit.” Peter said with a sideways smile. “I’d say welcome back, but I don’t think it was your decision, old man.”
“You’d be correct there.” Nick said. “But—” he held up his hand. “They say the Mother has a plan for each of her children.”
Peter just nodded, utterly unsurprised. “I had that news from the palace this morning. Come and tell me what you need.”
As it turned out, Peter had a very fine piece of baby blue brocade that would do for a waistcoat. “And you are going to all this trouble for a lady you spoke to once over a wall?” Peter shrugged. “It’s not the strangest beginning to a courtship I’ve ever heard.”
Nick shook his head. “I have to get the duchy back on track before I can even think about courting.”
“You have no idea about the Warrick family, do you?” Peter shook his head in return. “That girl may be the best person to help you with the duchy.”
“What?”
“Let me give you a file.” Peter rose and left the room, coming back with a slim file. “They were nearly silent about it, but my little birds are everywhere.”
Nick took the file and his leave of Peter to go back to the townhouse, his townhouse now, and tried to put his head back together.