The Duke's Legacy by Wendy Soliman Read Free Book Online Page B

discarding almost all of them with barely a glance, and reeled off a list of tasks for his secretary to attend to. All this took less than one-tenth of his attention. The rest of his mind was still engaged with Lady Abigail’s problems and the best way to go about resolving them.
    As afternoon turned to early evening Sebastian, aware that Lady Abigail’s aggressor was becoming increasingly frantic to finish his work prior to the commencement of the season proper, took immediate action. Putting aside his papers, he prepared to leave the house. There was someone he needed to consult regarding Lady Abigail’s affairs and he suspected he knew exactly where to find him at this hour.
    Sebastian sauntered the length of St. James’s Street. He acknowledged acquaintances and stopped to pass the time of day with several of them, skilfully avoiding anyone who appeared intent upon delaying him for too long. Eventually reaching Whites, he entered the club and had the satisfaction of discovering his quarry ensconced in a leather armchair, engrossed in a newspaper.
    “Evening, Anthony,” said Sebastian, taking the chair opposite his friend.
    Anthony Deverill, youngest of the Earl of Newbury’s siblings, put aside his paper and grinned. “What you are doing about at this God-forsaken hour, Seb?”
    “Looking for you.”
    Anthony raised both brows. “What sort of scrape have you got yourself into that requires my sharp legal brain to save your skin? Being sued for breach of promise?” he suggested with a wicked grin.
    Sebastian laughed. “Good God, I hope not. My purpose in seeking you out owes rather more to the hypothetical.”
    “Then what, hypothetically, can I assist you with?” Anthony raised his hand to attract a waiter.
    Anthony and Sebastian had been at Oxford together and were firm friends. Anthony, most conveniently, was now a partner in the law firm patronised by the Duke of Penrith’s executors. Sebastian wouldn’t ask his friend to reveal confidential information regarding the estate, any more than he would betray Lady Abigail’s confidence by explaining his interest in the Penrith affairs. Instead he put his faith in Anthony’s awareness of his integrity and forged ahead with his first question.
    “All right then, consider this, if you will. If, hypothetically speaking, you were one of the trustees for a wealthy duchy, a duchy which wanted for nothing except perhaps a duke, for what purpose would you agree to release funds and to whom?”
    Anthony’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his hairline. “I hardly need to enquire whether you have a good reason for your question.”
    Sebastian inclined his head. “Let’s just say it is not the product of idle curiosity.”
    “I hardly imagined it would be. Thinking of falling victim to the parson’s mousetrap at last?” Anthony grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Or are you simply short of blunt?”
    “Come on, Tony, this is serious.”
    Anthony drifted into contemplative silence. Sebastian was content to wait him out, already having decided that if his friend declined to reveal the sensitive information he’d requested, he wouldn’t contrive to extract it from him by unscrupulous means.
    “I would imagine funds would be released from the coffers of your hypothetical duchy for the purpose of routine management, payment of stipends, maintenance of buildings and so forth.”
    “Of course, but if there were, say, two trustees, could either one of them make a request for the release of these funds?”
    “Yes, but in actuality probably only one would do so. Perhaps, if one were to be located, geographically speaking, closer to the ducal seat, then it might be more practical for said trustee to take it upon himself to manage the estates, and leave his co-trustee to worry about the welfare of the heiress.”
    “And, presumably, all monies would be meticulously accounted for?”
    “Naturally.”
    “What if funds were required for something other than routine