Page 23 of The Not So Perfect Duke

“And most of these are past due and amount to 130 pounds,” Mr. Crowle added, glaring at Mr. Hendricks. “If this is a true accounting.”

Mr. Hendricks sputtered. “Of course, it is. How dare you—”

Damon raised his hand. “Enough. What else about my father’s finances or lack thereof?”

Mr. Hendricks cleared his throat. “There have been a few ill-advised investments through the years, Your Grace, particularly a railroad scheme some fifteen years past. Regardless of these circumstances, the duke met his obligations, like your monthly allowance and other expenses.”

Railway schemes. How many clueless peers have lost money in the past decades over such speculation? Damon thought his father was a lot of things but was never imprudent.

His father’s solicitor reached into a folder and slid a piece of paper across the table toward Damon. “This is a list of the holdings, Your Grace. Many properties have been sold during the past decade for ready cash. It is how the late duke funded his lifestyle and the dukedom.”

Damon took the paper and glanced at it. “And Chellenham Park? Are there still any tenants? Farmers? Is it making money at all?”

“Like most peerages, there has been a steady decline in income. Such is the case of your late father, Your Grace,” Mr. Luckett replied gravely. “Eight tenants are left, and they pay the rent on time, and three farmers turned a tidy profit last year.”

“And these rents are not enough to maintain the upkeep on Chellenham Park, correct?”

This was worse than Damon thought. He had been left with a muddle of a dukedom. It also meant he was accurate that his mother would get next to nothing.

“No, Your Grace,” Mr. Luckett replied. “In fact, Chellenham Park is in dire need of maintenance. All that remains is the barest minimum of staff. The horses have all been sold but three. Your father hadn’t been there in quite some time.”

Damon growled low in his throat. Chellenham Park had some of the finest horses in East Sussex. Located outside the small village of Westmeston, the manor was somewhat isolated, which was why neither he nor his late father used the place. How can one live a debauched life in the middle of rolling hills, dense forests, and gallivanting deer and foraging foxes?

“What about the villa in Spain that my mother lives in? I was under the impression my father bought it for her as part of the separation agreement. And what about the monthly stipend she is receiving?”

“That property was sold long ago, Your Grace, and the stipulation was that your father would pay rent on it for as long as he lived. That pact will end once we contact the owner,” Hendricks stated. “As for the allowance, that stopped more than fifteen years past. When the duke discovered she was living with a man.”

What an odd condition of the sale.

As if reading his mind, Hendricks added, “The owner possesses many buildings in that area and will be glad to have the agreement at an end as it was to your father’s advantage. He can rent the place at a higher price now. Or sell it.”

So, not only would his mother have little to no income, but now she would be homeless. De León must have some coinage. How else had his mother been living these past years?

“You are not to contact the owner until I inform my mother of the circumstances and make other arrangements. I will continue to pay the rent until then.” Damon paused. “With all the properties sold through the years, just what have you been the steward of, Mr. Luckett? What is this property on the list? Chellenhome? Never heard of it.” Damon pointed to the paper. “And Chellenhome Farm and Flour Mill? Where in hell is it located? Why didn’t my father sell this property and business?”

Hendricks and Luckett shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

“Now we come to the meat of it, Your Grace,” Baldwin said. “As these two gentlemen would not give us a straight answer. Perhaps they will, to you.”

“The home is in Barking, Your Grace,” Mr. Luckett replied.

“That tells me nothing,” Damon retorted.

“It is a small town outside the East End of London, heading toward Essex,” Baldwin replied. “We’ve had no time to inspect it, Your Grace, and these two have been closed-mouthed about it all.”

“Only because we’ve had no dealings with it, Your Grace,” Mr. Hendricks quickly interrupted. “Your father handled all currency concerning that particular place, and I was only aware that he possessed them. I have seen no records or financial statements; all I have are the deeds to prove that he owns them. They are now yours.”

Weary from all this talk, Damon dismissed his father’s solicitor and steward. “I want all final statements and papers sent to Mr. Crowle and the transfer of deeds done immediately.”

“Will you be keeping us on, Your Grace?” Mr. Luckett tentatively asked.

“I will let you know in due course.”

The men gathered their papers and were shown out by Kingsley.

“Good Christ,” Damon muttered.

“Indeed, Your Grace,” Baldwin agreed. “Let us say your finances are in fine fettle, at least compared to the late duke. Your investment in the Daimler Motor Company has already paid dividends and will only rise in the foreseeable future. It is more than enough to keep the dukedom afloat.”