Chapter 2 #2
He snatched up the nearest object, which happened to be a handsome marble ink stand and hurled it at the portrait of his long deceased father on the other side of the room.
Having done this many times before his aim was accurate and true.
The ink splattered satisfactorily on the face of the man he still detested.
The portrait only remained in place for James to throw things at when he was enraged.
'Smithers, where the devil are you?'
His secretary appeared immediately unbothered by his employer's rage – he was used to dealing with such things almost on a daily basis.
'Yes, my lord, how can I be of assistance?'
James waved the paper at him. 'Over three weeks ago my cousin, Jonathan Brotherton, died leaving his three daughters in my care. I don't want to be guardian to them, the last thing I need here is a trio of silly young ladies giggling and simpering all day.'
'Forgive me for pointing this out, my lord, but this house is big enough for a small army of young ladies to live without you being obliged to see them at all.'
James recovered his temper and smiled. 'How true, if I wasn't obliged to live here, if this mausoleum of a house hadn't been in the family for centuries, I'd raze it to the ground and build something modern and more comfortable.'
He stopped and gestured to the chair opposite him and young Smithers obediently sat.
'The fact that I prefer to live alone is of no matter. I am both legally and morally obliged to provide for these girls.' He read the letter again and almost picked up another object and threw it. Smithers ducked knowing what was coming and James laughed.
'Relax, you're in no danger from a flying ink well, young friend. It doesn't say in this letter exactly how old these girls are and as I've never met my distant cousin or his progeny, I've no idea. The oldest is called Sofia, the next is Colette and the third Lucille.'
'There's nothing I detest more than travelling to London in June when it will be at its most rank, but I suppose I've no choice but to go in person.'
'Indeed, my lord, I'll write at once and let them know you're coming. Do you know where these young ladies reside?'
'No, another piece of salient information that these idiots failed to provide.
I think this time I shall dispense with their services as I've threatened to do before and find myself someone younger and more efficient to deal with my affairs.
' James scowled. He'd been in charge of his estates for nine years, since he was one and twenty, and the family had used this particular firm for over a century.
The look of relief on his secretary's face made him smile again. 'I believe that you mentioned a firm in Bath, Queen's Square if I recall. I don't recollect the name.'
'Little and Lyle, my lord, an excellent company and very well thought of by those who employ their services.'
'Excellent.' James grinned – not something he did very often. 'Then that saves me the fag of making the journey to London. Send a letter by express to Dulwich & Sons demanding that they bring all my papers, accounts and deeds, to Little and Lyle immediately.'
'Yes, my lord, I'll do that at once. After all, the young ladies have been left to their own devices already for several weeks so what can another week or so matter?'
All desire to smile vanished. Smithers was an excellent secretary but sometimes he walked on very thin ice by making such remarks as this one.
'I can hardly visit these young ladies until I know their whereabouts. Why should I set out on a wild goose chase when in a day or two I'll know exactly where to go?'
'Indeed, sir, that makes perfect sense. Is there anything else you require?'
James waved at the door but didn't answer.
Maybe it was time to change his secretary as well as Smithers was beginning to annoy him with his oblique criticisms. He scowled at the door – now firmly closed – and glared at the portrait.
He'd thrown so many things at this picture over the years that the face of his father was no longer recognisable.
He closed his eyes and his hands clenched.
He'd never known his mother as she'd died at his birth, and his remaining parent had never forgiven his son for causing the loss of the love of his life.
James had been mostly ignored, only summoned to his father's presence to be beaten for some trivial misdemeanour or other.
It had been a relief to be sent away to boarding school at eight years of age, and it had been no hardship at all to be denied visits to his ancestral home even in the holidays.
Lord Richard Brotherton had broken his neck in a riding accident when James had been on his grand tour.
He'd returned to take over the running of the vast estate, the many villages, farms, and investments at the tender age of one and twenty.
He sighed and his two huge hounds rested their heavy heads in his lap.
These two dogs, Caliban and Othello, were his constant companions and the only living things he truly loved.
He was fond of his horses, especially his black stallion Lucifer, but there was something about canines that made them irresistible – at least he felt that way about his own dogs.
The yapping lapdogs that ladies preferred were an abomination to him.
His ancient grandmama, the Dowager Countess of Avon, owned several of these animals which was one reason he refused to visit her.
She resided in the same building as him, the East Wing, but he could go weeks without setting eyes on her and that suited them both admirably.
The other reason he stayed away was because on the rare occasions that he did he set foot in her domain, she rattled on about him setting up his nursery, finding himself a wife and providing an heir to inherit not only the titles but the thousands of acres too.
Every time, he informed her there was a perfectly good heir, another closer cousin, a decent enough gentleman but for the life of him he couldn't recall his name.
It was something outlandish – biblical, he thought, but if this relative inherited, nobody would care what his name was.
James certainly wouldn't as he'd be dead.
'Come along, fellows, we shall go for a long walk. I'll take you to the lake and you can chase the ducks and swim.'
Both dogs thumped their tails against the side of his desk.
'I might even join you. It's warm enough today.'
Swimming naked in his lake was one of the pastimes James enjoyed but probably not one someone of his importance should indulge in.