10. Chapter 10 #3
“Your Grace, you asked me to inform you when I found out any more information about a Miss Whittingham and her family.”
“Mr. Holmes, you have impeccable timing, as usual. Please sit down and tell me what you found out.”
“Well, sir, Miss Whittingham is indeed the daughter of the late Viscount Newton. He died four years ago. His wife died the year previous, giving birth to his heir, a Maximillian Whittingham.” Holmes looked up from his notes.
“The word is there were twins, which can often complicate the birth.” Andrew nodded his head.
He knew all this already, but he waited for Holmes to continue.
Holmes shuffled his papers. “The viscount was well-known for being an inveterate gambler.
He was banned from several establishments because of the extent of his debts.
At the time of his death, all that was left of his estate was the entailed property in Lincolnshire.
Everything else had been mortgaged or sold.
“A Charles Whittingham was assigned guardianship of the children. He is the youngest brother and was estranged from his family. The second son died in the war with the Colonies. My guess is the estranged brother received guardianship in default as the closest male relative. He was not living in England at the time of his brother’s death.
No one seems to know anything about this uncle.
Perhaps he has some self-made income which keeps the family afloat? ”
Holmes adjusted his spectacles and flipped to a new page.
“According to the bank, the house in town was paid off last year. I was able to find out that they keep a very small staff, just a housekeeper and one maid. The maid was very willing to talk to me for a few extra shillings. Most of the staff was let go shortly after the viscount’s death.
She said the strangest thing. The household has five dogs and one wolf.
” He frowned at his notes like he still couldn’t believe that last piece of information.
“It’s an Irish wolfhound. Her dog, I mean,” Andrew clarified.
Holmes’ expression cleared. “That makes more sense, I guess.”
“Anything more?” Andrew asked.
“Just that Miss Emmaline Whittingham was engaged to be married to the Marquis Longwood before her father’s death. Her fiancé died in an accident before they could marry. That’s all I was able to find out, sir.”
“Thank you, Mr. Holmes.” Andrew’s chest tightened at that last bit of information.
The Marquis Longwood had been a womanizer and a general right bastard.
In fact, Andrew’s own valet had come from Longwood’s household right after the man died.
To think of his Emma being shackled to a man like that made Andrew’s stomach turn.
“That will be all, Mr. Holmes. I will see you tomorrow at our regular time.”
After Holmes exited the room, Andrew leaned back in his chair and took a bracing sip of his tea.
What did he know about Miss Whittingham?
Emma’s financial situation was most likely precarious.
Perhaps this dog-gifting uncle of hers helped to keep the family in their Mayfair house.
Although, based on what he observed, not well enough to keep up the house or to staff it properly.
As the eldest, Emma took on all the responsibilities of keeping the family together, it seemed.
Did she keep her family well-dressed during the season by stealing and selling jewelry?
Where would a viscount’s daughter even learn such a thing?
This woman was a confounded puzzle for sure.
There was a knock at the door, and at Andrew’s “enter,” his two sons rushed into the room.
“Father, it’s the perfect day to fly kites, just windy enough.” Grayson came to a stop in front of his desk, breathless with excitement.
“We made our own, Father. Look, mine is blue.” Tyler held up his homemade kite for inspection.
Andrew smiled. “Come here, let me have a closer look at those.” He scooped five-year-old Tyler up onto his lap and examined his kite carefully. “It looks like she would fly. Good job. And yours, Grayson. What a nice long tail you’ve put on it.”
Grayson beamed at him. “I helped Tyler with his, just a bit.”
“As you should. It’s your responsibility as the older brother to help your little brother.”
“I am the little brother.” Tyler snuggled against Andrew’s chest. “Will you take us to the park? Nanny Fischer is awful at flying kites. She always gets the string all tangled.”
He looked down at his son, and for the thousandth time in the last year, he was thankful he had the two of them in his life. “Absolutely, shall we take a picnic?”
“Yes!” chorused the boys.
“Grayson, why don’t you ring for Mr. Rhodes?”
Rhodes arrived a few minutes later. “Mr. Rhodes, can you please ask Mrs. Blume to pack a picnic lunch for myself and the boys? And tell Nanny Fischer I will be taking the boys to the park.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
He turned back to the boys. “Now, who would like to play a game of tiddlywinks while we wait for our lunch to be packed?”