Page 19 of The Legend of the Betrayed Duchess

Lucy sighed and prepared the drops.

Chapter 7

The Duke looked up from his ledger when George knocked and came into his study and stood before him.

“Son… did you have a look at the pump as I asked?”

“Yes, Father. It was a small matter, and I have taken care of it.”

“Excellent.” George remained looking at him, and his father asked, “Was there something else you wanted?”

“Yes, I want to go up to London and stay with Aunt Hester for a spell.”

“And why would you do that?” Father asked. He looked unsettled by the request.

“The gallery that wishes to show my paintings wants to see what I have been working on recently, and I thought to go up and take my latest offerings.”

Matthew stood up from his desk. He was clearly not pleased. “They have been in communication with you?”

“They have. I received a letter only yesterday with the request.”

“George, this is not a good time for you to be going to London. Summer is our most active time on the estate. I need you here.”

“I will only be gone a few days—a week at the most.”

“And if I forbid you leaving?” he asked coming around the side of the desk and confronting George directly.

“Then I should remind you that I am twenty—almost one and twenty and answer only to myself.”

“You think that, do you?”

“I do. And I have my inheritance from Grandmother to draw upon if I must.”

“That is not available to you until you are five and twenty. And might I remind you that you still live under my roof, and as long as that is the case, you will obey my wishes.”

George did not respond but smiled briefly. “And I am to be the Duke when you are gone. So, you might wish to remember that, as well—unless you want me to bolt and find my own way in London with no care for the estate and the succession.

“And what would you live on?”

“My painting,” George trumpeted proudly.

That elicited a guffaw from his father. “You really think so, lad?”

“And why not? I have a gallery interested in my work.”

Matthew sighed and went back to his desk, pulled a hunting knife out of a desk drawer and threw it down on the desktop.

“There, you might be able to make a hard living in the wilderness with that, but do you really think you can make a living in London with those ridiculous paint brushes of yours?”

“Father, please. Let us take a step back. I am only going to stay with Aunt Hester for a week. I know I am not able to make my living by painting—just yet. But I want to start. I have an opportunity, and you should welcome that. The gallery sees promise in my work and who knows where that might lead. I have already given you my promise that I will work with you on the estate and learn how to manage it. Now, please, honor my wishes as well.”

Matthew picked up the knife and tossed it back into the drawer and then closed the ledger and looked up at George.

“Very well. One week. But when you return, I want you to start learning about the accounting process we use here.” He tapped the ledger with his forefinger.”

George felt some relief at the approval and felt emboldened to push on. “I want you to know I intend to take Lucy with me. She has never been to London, and she pleaded with me to take her.”

His father scowled and shook his head. “Son… I do not think that would be proper. A young woman…”