Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
LUKE
I t didn’t take much to persuade Geoffrey Knight to hop in his car and meet me at four o’clock and as we wait for Jessy, I take stock of a man who is a definite stereotype.
Geoffrey is in his late fifties, rather overweight, his large extended stomach restrained inside a buttoned up waistcoat of the checked variety. Paired with a well-tailored tweed jacket, crisp shirt, and polished leather brogues, reflecting an understated elegance.
His sandy coloured hair is peppered with grey, which adds to his distinguished appearance and I’m guessing he enjoys activities such as hunting, fishing and shooting.
He is a definitive stereotype with his ruddy complexion and twinkling eyes, his loud voice booming and his aftershave resembling the scent of brandy.
“Mr Adams, I was so sad to hear of Lady Townsend’s passing. We spent many happy hours in this same room disposing of a bottle of vintage brandy while we put the world to rights.”
I don’t doubt that for a second and say guiltily, “Thank you. I may not be able to put the world to rights, but I could offer you a glass of brandy.”
I notice the bottle on the dusty bookcase and some glasses nestling behind the glass cupboard and he smiles pompously. “Well, it’s a little early, but I don’t mind if I do.”
As I hobble over to the cabinet he says loudly, “Tough luck on your injury. I hope it heals soon.”
“It’s fine, just a little cumbersome.”
I pour the brandy into the glasses and consider adding a third before the door opens and Jessy hurries inside.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Geoffrey says in surprise, “I don’t understand.”
Jessy holds out her hand to his. “Jessy Potter, Mr Knight. I’m Luke’s business advisor, trainee actually, and he asked if I minded taking notes because it will probably be a lot for him to take in.”
I catch her eye and smile, biting back the chuckle that her words have caused. She’s not wrong, although the real reason I wanted her here may shock her more, so I splash some brandy into the third glass and hand them to my guests.
“Really?” She raises her eyes and my fingers brush against hers as she accepts the glass and I nod toward Geoffrey, causing understanding to dawn in her eyes.
As we take our seats, Geoffrey withdraws a notebook from his briefcase and lays it out on the desk before taking a sip of brandy and unbuttoning his waistcoat.
His self-contained paunch visibly relaxes over his belt and he sighs with relief.
“Now we’re comfortable, we can begin.”
He fixes me with an autocratic frown.
“Granthaven has very few secrets and many problems.”
My heart sinks and Jessy speaks up. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr Knight, but Mr Adams is facing a huge inheritance tax bill for the estate and the most important thing on the agenda is how he can raise the money to pay the tax man.”
Geoffrey raises his eyes and stares at me with a thoughtful expression.
“I see.”
He flips open his leather-bound notebook and appears to be searching for something, and Jessy shrugs as she smiles at me apologetically.
“Here it is.” He says triumphantly and scans the page before stabbing a thick finger against a set of figures.
“Lady Townsend raised the same subject herself at one of our delightful meetings. It was soon after her husband, the late Lord Townsend, died and she had similar concerns.”
I lean forward. “What happened?”
Geoffrey takes another gulp of brandy and glances at the bottle with a brisk, “I’m a little dry, Mr Adams. Perhaps a little more to wet my whistle would be agreeable.”
Jessy springs forward and splashes more brandy into Geoffrey’s glass and he smiles his appreciation.
“Super.”
Once again, he knocks back the alcohol and says with satisfaction, “Ah, yes, the tax. Luckily for her, the lord had anticipated that eventuality and made provision in his will for the sum to be paid out of his fortune to the Inland Revenue, meaning his wife could mourn him in private without the distasteful subject of money as a distraction.”
“So, he had the money saved.”
Luke sounds impressed and Geoffrey nods, knocking back the rest of the glass and staring pointedly at the bottle.
Jessy wastes no time in refilling his glass for the third time and this time she is more generous and his eyes gleam as he takes the glass from her hand and says gruffly, “Apparently, it was tradition and enabled Granthaven to remain in the family without the need for the unpleasant scenario of selling any of the properties, or land to appease the government.”
Jessy’s eyes meet mine and I sense the confusion in hers and say evenly, “So, I could sell some of my collateral to pay what I owe?”
I never believed that was an option because when the solicitor read the will, my inheritance was under strict conditions. I was forbidden to sell any of the assets and must live in the house for one year before it would be possible to list the entire estate as a whole or not at all.
“Good God no,” Geoffrey says, slightly shocked and Jessy huffs with frustration as she takes her seat again.
“There will be no dividing up the estate under the conditions of the trust.”
“The trust?” I’m getting a headache and Geoffrey nods, obviously relishing being the only person here who knows what the hell is going on.
“No, Granthaven comes as a package and always will as laid down by the terms of the trust one of the more far-sighted lords set up.”
“So, the tax?” Jessy reminds him, appearing to be losing the will to live, and Geoffrey nods.
“Is already paid.”
I stare at him in shock and Jessy says in disbelief. “How?”
Geoffrey consults his notebook. “Lady Townsend was saving the rent from the houses, the farm and the various other business interests and placed it in a holding company entitled Townsend enterprises.”
I stare at Jessy in confusion, and Geoffrey nods toward the brandy bottle. “I don’t suppose–”
Once again, Jessy sprints to the cabinet and grabs the bottle, placing it down on the desk and saying quickly, “Please, help yourself.”
The gleam in Geoffrey’s eyes is slightly worrying and I wonder if I’m feeding his alcohol addiction as he tosses a generous amount of the bottle into his ever-draining glass.
“Yes, she was extremely frugal and managed to amass the exact amount I believe was owed to HMRC.”
The relief I feel is enormous and I sag against the back of my seat as Geoffrey booms, “She believed in her husband’s business acumen and took steps to reciprocate it. You have no outstanding debts and can rest assured your inheritance is secure.”
I speak up. “I’m sorry, Geoffrey, but I’m a little confused.”
He takes another sip of brandy and fixes his sharp eyes on me as I add, “My aunt was sitting on millions of pounds, but the estate was left to decay. She could have used the income to restore the village.”
“Why would she do that?” Geoffrey shakes his head. “Then your inheritance would be worth more and you’d be forced to sell half of it to pay the dues owed.”
He leans forward and fixes me with a steadfast look.
“You can’t have it all, Mr Adams. You can have the whole shebang and all the problems that brings, or let it dwindle to nothing over the years as its prosperity places value on the inheritance, subsequently bleeding into the government’s back account and not into yours.”
He leans back and shrugs. “Progress is not always the best thing. History, tradition and the simple pleasures are worth way more than that. Think about it, Mr Adams, before you embark on a mission to save this magical place. Perhaps it doesn’t need saving after all and, in fact, is well placed to be the one to save you instead.”
Silence accompanies his words, and he turns the page on his notebook and says with a low chuckle, “So, let me bring you up to speed with the present state of the economy in Granthaven, but first, can I offer anyone else a splash of brandy and if so, we could really use another bottle.”