Free The Ugly Duchess by Eloisa James Page B

said, walking into the room. “Mr. Reede, how kind of you to join us.”
    “It’s his bloody job, ” James snapped, “and if he’d been doing his job a bit more keenly, we might not be in the straits we are.”
    “Begging your lordship’s forgiveness,” Mr. Reede said, “but may I remind you that I had no authority to stop His Grace from any of the decisions that you disparage.”
    “Right,” Theo said, seating herself beside James and trying not to think about how much she liked feeling the brush of his shoulder against hers. “How bad is it?”
    “It’s hellish,” James stated. “My father has managed to come near to bankrupting the entire estate. He’s sold everything that he could put his hands on, and only the entail has saved the rest from disappearing into his pockets.”
    Theo put a hand on his arm. “Then it’s an excellent thing that you have assumed control, James. Remember those ideas we used to have for making the Staffordshire estate self-sustaining? We have a chance to put them into practice.”
    He cast her a look that was half despair and half exasperation. “We were children , Daisy. We had stupid, quixotic ideas that were probably about as practical as my father’s wretched plans.”
    It was clear to her that James was on the verge of combustion. “Mr. Reede, could you give me a précis of what is left in the estate, and what debts are encumbered thereto?” Theo asked.
    Mr. Reede blinked at her, clearly startled.
    “I told you,” James said to him with a hollow laugh.
    Mr. Reede found his tongue. “The Staffordshire estate is entailed, of course, as is this town house and the island in Scotland.”
    “Island?”
    “Islay,” James put in. “No one has visited it in years; I gather it’s nothing more than a heap of rock.”
    “I’m afraid that there are debts against the country estate totaling thirty-two thousand pounds,” Mr. Reede said.
    “What about income from the sheep farm, and the rest?”
    “The income is approximately the amount that has been agreed upon as His Grace’s annual allowance. There are also debts against the town house totaling five thousand pounds.”
    “And against the island?” Theo asked.
    “No one would lend him money against it,” James said. “It has nothing but a meadow and a hut.”
    “His Grace does own a ship that has, in the past, made successful runs to the East Indies for spices. Lord Islay and I spent the morning at the Percival , which has been dry-docked as a result of nonpayment of customs fees.”
    “I thought ships were generally named after women,” Theo said.
    “His Grace named the vessel after himself. With fines,” Mr. Reede said, moving smoothly on, “the duties attached to the Percival added up to eight thousand pounds. We secured payment and the ship is no longer impounded. His Grace had continued to pay the crew’s wages, but the captain left for a better post.” Mr. Reede turned over a page in his ledger.
    “We’re up to forty-five thousand pounds in debt,” Theo said. “That really is rather a lot.”
    “There is a small firm of weavers located in Cheapside,” Mr. Reede said. “Ryburn Weavers has made a steady profit of around three thousand pounds per annum.”
    “Why didn’t the duke sell it?”
    “I believe he forgot about its existence,” Mr. Reede said, adding rather hesitantly, “I used the income to pay for the staff wages in the various houses, as well as the crew of the Percival .”
    “So naturally you did not remind him of the existence of the weavers,” Theo said admiringly. “That was exceptionally shrewd of you. Thank you, Mr. Reede.”
    She elbowed James, and he muttered something. But he started up from the table as if he could no longer bear to sit, and began ranging about the room, running his hands through his hair.
    Theo ignored him for the time being and turned back to Mr. Reede. “My preference would be to pay down the debt from my dowry, and then work toward a goal of