Billionaire Flawed 1(193)

Mother you look tired. You should let the servants do more, he told her. The English climate had made her skin paler over the years. When she'd arrive from Spain, she was very dark. Now much paler, Edward could see dark rings under her eyes. You don't have to move into the dowager house. What on earth will I do here in this enormous house alone?

One day you will find yourself a wife, and fill some of those bedrooms with children. You won't want your mother around when that happens, she replied.

He had feared his father, but he loved his mother. She had been kind to him and regularly defended him against her husband when he'd reached for the cane. The Spanish were more pleasant to children than the English; they didn't beat them or send them away to boarding schools.

Would you help me sort some of your father's things? There are boxes and boxes of papers and documents. I have no idea where to begin, she asked. They're in his bedroom.

Later Edward went into his father's room and began to do what his mother had asked him. There were six boxes placed in a row at the end of the bed. The room was large and had a fantastic view over the garden. Edward hadn't realized that his parents didn't share the same bed until he was thirteen. His mother had removed herself when he was five, no longer able to bear the whiskey fumes and incessant snoring.

It took Edward three evenings to reach the last box. At first, he'd wondered why the boxes weren't in his father's study but soon came to realize that he'd kept these letters under the bed for a reason. He'd had mistresses. Lots of them, and it appeared he had tried wherever possible to keep in touch with them, even when they were no longer sharing his bed. Edward read a lot of letters at first but soon tired of the same amorous language. As far as he could see, they were just love letters and of no real importance and certainly not to be seen by his mother. He'd get Roberts to burn them.

On the third evening, he pulled the last box to him and opened it. More scented letters and fancy ribbons. He was grateful that the tedious task was almost over. He was just about to give up, fearing all the letters in the box were love letters when he spotted an unopened envelope.

The letter was in a white envelope. It was a letter his father had written to someone but never sent. Edward read the address: Captain Landsborough, Landsborough Hall, Landsborough Estate. Why had his father not sent the letter? His father was dead and couldn't object, so Edward opened it.



Dear Captain Landsborough,

It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance the other evening.

I must say it was foolhardy of you to risk your ownership of the Landsborough Estate in a simple game of cards. Of course, I mustn't complain at having won it from you, but it was nonetheless foolhardy.

The reason for my letter is thus: I have heard that you are under investigation by the Army. It seems they have an objection to one of their captains gambling in the manner to which you seem to have become accustomed.

I understand the hearing is Tuesday next, and the possible punishment is a dishonorable discharge.

Under the circumstances, I feel it would be inappropriate of me to see you penniless. I, therefore, propose to return your estate to you and your wife. It was after all just a game of cards which unfortunately became unseemly.

I will instruct my lawyers to issue the paperwork forthwith.



Yours

John

Duke of Haslemere



A card game? Who puts up a whole estate as collateral in a card game, Edward thought? Father is obviously writing about the Landsborough Estate. But we still own it, so he didn't give it back. Why didn't he send this letter?

Over the course of the next few days, he asked as many people about the Landsborough Estate as possible. The Duke had acquired it a year before Edward was born, twenty-one years ago. Some older tenants told him that it used to belong to a family called Landsborough. Apparently they moved away, but none of them knew why. All of them just assumed they had sold it to the Duke for the money. Even Jepson didn't know, and he ran the largest farm on the Landsborough Estate.

Mother, what do you know about the Landsborough Estate? Edward asked at dinner.

It's three thousand acres, that much I know, and not much more.

Three thousand acres is large. We've only owned it for twenty-one years, do you know how father acquired it?

Roberts, the butler, looked at Edward as he placed the salmon on the table. He was relieved the young man had his mother's character, not his father's. You're father bought it from the Landsboroughs.

No, he won it in a ridiculous game of cards, but didn't dare tell you, because you are kind and wouldn't have allowed him to keep it, Edward thought. Thank you mother, I just wondered, that's all.







Victoria was allowed one day off to bury her father. Few people came to the funeral. Lizzie came to comfort Victoria, and there were a couple of direct neighbors from the village. The vicar, seeing so few people, decided to do away with any singing, and the said service lasted just ten minutes. When the pallbearers lowered the coffin into the grave, Victoria collapsed into Lizzie's arms and wept.