Read Online The Scandalous Love of a Duke by Jane Lark - Free Book Online Page B

date.
    There were no unexpected sums. Nothing was recorded which would suggest the reason for giving out a loan.
    “Your Grace?”
    John looked up.
    Wareham was standing in the doorway, his fingers on the handle of the open door.
    John smiled the smile he’d taught himself in London in the last few weeks, the one which screened out all other expression, his grandfather’s smile, and straightened but did not stand.
    There was an insolent, angry glint in Wareham’s light blue-grey eyes. He did not defer. He neither bowed nor even nodded his head. It had been the same on John’s arrival.
    The old man’s monster roared to life as John waited, imparting the cold condemning glare he had also learned from his grandfather. Silence stretched across the room while Wareham stared back.
    “Your Grace.” Wareham finally allowed, nodding slightly and showing more defiance than deference.
    The bastard.
What is this?
    John wished to make him do it over, but that would be churlish. It was far better to let it pass. Wareham must surely realise his days were numbered if he continued this. He must know John would not be lenient or soft. He ought to know the old man had drilled this detachment into John. Sentimentality had been thrashed out of him as a child, and Wareham had watched.
    “Is there something I may help you with?” Wareham closed the door, his whole demeanour challenging John’s presence in the room.
    John felt anger burn deep. He was entirely his grandfather’s monster now.
    “Take a seat.” John deliberately indicated the chair on the far side, refusing to vacate Wareham’s. John owned this house, this office and the money passing through these ledgers – let Wareham remember that.
    When Wareham sat, John held every muscle in his face steady. Thank God he’d learned how easily read he’d been in town and mastered that. Now he expressed only a mask of indifference.
    “I would have thought
,
if Your Grace wished to view the ledgers, you would have asked me to bring them to you?” Wareham’s tone was tipped with steel.
    You?
It was an unforgivable insult not to use John’s title.
You!
    “Who owns the estates you manage, Wareham?” John felt as though a sandstorm had swept over him, his vision blurred and his skin prickled with anger.
    “You do, Your Grace.”
    Even when Wareham did use John’s title, he made it offensive.
    “And please tell me then, Wareham, therefore, who owns this office and these ledgers?”
    The man’s eyes momentarily showed a questioning thought, but then he stated, “Your Grace,” the challenge slipping from his voice.
    “And pray, who employs you?”
    “Your Grace.” There was darkness at the heart of Wareham’s eyes. A darkness which said this would not be the last of this conversation.
    John smiled his grandfather’s vicious smile. “We have that straight then. Let us move on.”
    John did not mention the loan after that minor mutiny. He did not wish to give Wareham any chance to cover his tracks.
    “I have decided to review every aspect of my estate. I shall take these accounts now to help me do so and I wish to see all the supporting receipts and invoices. You may begin a new ledger.”
    Wareham finally showed an element of emotion as his eyebrows lifted.
    He’d clearly not anticipated John’s direct interference, and that meant, hopefully, the reason for the loan was still hidden somewhere in these books.
    The older man’s icy gaze met John’s across the desk.
    When John had sat here with him as a boy, the man had been brash, intolerant, and rude. John had thought it a lack of patience for a youth. Now he presumed it was more. Wareham had never acted this way with his grandfather.
    John did not move…
    “
Now
, Your Grace?” The man finally understood.
    “I am here, am I not Wareham, so now would be a good time.”
    “But…”
    “I shall begin reading these ledgers, while you find everything out.” Of course Wareham would wish for more time if he wanted to