The Second Son Page 11

  After some idle chit chat, Grenville broached the subject that was in the air but no one was prepared to speak of. “I am sorry that my return was only because of Stephan’s death,” said Grenville, “but if not too distressing I would be grateful if you could give me all the details.” He looked from his mother to his father. His mother looked down at the ground and his father stood and went to look out of the big bay windows. After a pause his father began to speak.

  “Your brother was returning from London in the early evening last month, and according to the police report swerved to avoid something, probably a deer or some other animal, whilst driving down the narrow lane leading to the estate. Due to his speed, he lost control on the wet surface and hit a tree. As he was not wearing his seat belt, plus the speed he was travelling at, he went through the wind screen and he was killed instantly.”

  Grenville’s father walked across and stood behind his mother and put his hand on her shoulder, and she placed her hand over his. Grenville could see although they were both still traumatised by the sudden loss of their son, there was something else bothering them deeply. “Jonathan’s letter said Stephan had his fiancée in the car as well, and she survived?” asked Grenville.

  “Yes, Sara. She was fortunate to have had her seat belt on and only suffered minor injuries,” replied his father.

  “Why did Stephan not have his seat belt on?” asked Grenville.

  “You knew your brother Grenville, never would conform,” replied his mother, with a light laugh. That was the first time in his life that Grenville had ever heard his mother speak ill of his brother.

  Grenville tried not to smile, but said, “Yes I did, mother.”

  “We buried him in the family plot next to your grandfather, it was a small affair with just family and a few friends in attendance.”

  From this, Grenville took that due to his standoffish attitude towards people not a lot attended the funeral or were saddened by his death.

  “So, my boy,” said his father, “you are home ready to take up the mantle of Earl of Eastleigh and future Duke of Hampshire.”

  Grenville looked at his parents and both had the look of expectation in their eyes. Grenville said, “Father, I will do my duty.”

  His father went across and hugged him, and to Grenville’s surprise, whispered in his ear, “Thank you, my son.”

  “Well, I have things I need to attend to,” said his mother, “see you at dinner, my darling.” As she stood and hugged him and kissed his cheek she whispered, “Glad you are home.” Grenville and his father waited until she left before speaking again.

  “She took it hard, you know,” said his father, “but she does not show it.”

  Grenville nodded and said, “I cannot imagine your loss, father.”

  “Tomorrow I have Stevens the family lawyer coming down, to settle some estate business, and now you are back we can tie up a few formal loose ends on your inheritance,” said his father.

  Grenville said, “Of course, father, whatever you wish. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a touch of jet lag, so could do with a few hours’ sleep before dinner, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all my boy, we can talk later,” replied his father.

  Before returning to his room for a quick nap, Grenville decided to pop in and see the Preston’s. On entering the kitchen, it was a hive of activity as usual. Grenville spotted Mrs Preston and holding out his arms, said, “Mrs P, come give me a hug.”

  Smiling, Mrs Preston went to Grenville and gave him a big hug. “Here, let me look at you,” said Mrs Preston, holding him at arm’s length. “You look well, lost a bit of weight as well, suits you, as for the hair, much better.”

  “At least you don’t look like a ponce anymore,” said a voice from behind him. Grenville turned to see a smiling Preston with arms outstretched. After hugging, Preston said, “Glad you are home, lad, been a bit fraught around here lately.” Mrs P stood and nodded in agreement.

  Grenville laughed at Preston’s comments and said, “Surprised you are still here, father not put you out to farm yet?”

  “As if,” said Preston, smiling. “But seriously glad you are home, place was never the same after you left. But we have time to discuss all of that when you have settled in. You look bushed,” said Preston.

  “To tell you the truth, it’s been a bit of a tense homecoming,” replied Grenville.

  “Well, you get off to bed for a few hours’ sleep. I will give you a knock before dinner,” said Preston.

  “As always, Mr P, you are a star. Mrs P, as always, a pleasure,” said Grenville as he bowed deeply to Mrs Preston.

  “Be off with you, you’re a young rake,” she said, laughing.

  Grenville left the kitchen, laughing, to finally get some sleep.

  As they watched Grenville depart, Mrs Preston said, “I don’t think I have ever seen such a change in a person as Master Grenville.”

  Nodding, Preston said, “You are right my dear, young Master Grenville has finally become a man.”

  Grenville opened his door and stood in the doorway; the room was the same as he had left it apart from his baggage stacked neatly in the corner. Grenville smiled. “Part one complete,” he said to himself, as he lay down on the bed fully clothed. He was fast asleep before his head hit the pillow.

  Grenville opened his eyes when he heard the light knock on his door. One thing that he had learnt during his time in Belize was how to react to every noise and movement. Sitting up, Grenville said, “Enter.”

  The door was opened by a smiling Preston holding a steaming cup of coffee. “Preston, my dear chap, most welcome.”

  “Sleep well, my lord?” asked Preston.

  “Like the proverbial log,” replied Grenville, smiling. “What time is it, Preston?”

  “Just after eight,” replied Preston.

  “AM or PM?” asked Grenville.

  “AM,” said a laughing Preston. “It was your mother’s idea not to wake you last night for dinner, so we let you sleep.”

  “Must have needed it,” replied Grenville.

  “Indeed, you did,” said Preston. “Do you want me to sort out your luggage?”

  As Preston moved over towards the luggage, Grenville was out of bed and rushed over and placed his hand over Preston’s and said, “No need, I can do it.”

  Preston stared into Grenville’s eyes. “Master Grenville, I have known you all your life. I have seen you grow and develop into the man you are. I know when you have something to hide. Even as a child, you were crap at it.”

  “Preston, sit down, let me tell you about Belize.”

  Preston took a chair and held out his hands and said, “Well, tell me.”

  Grenville sat opposite Preston. Ever since Grenville was a little boy, he could never get one over on Preston. It was like a sixth sense he had, he always knew when Grenville was in the wrong, or he was innocent.

  Grenville decided to tell Preston about some of his time away, so Grenville went on to explain some of the things that had happened whilst he was in Belize. After Grenville, had finished he smiled at Preston, who remained silent. Eventually Preston said, “Well, my Lord, quite a story.”

  “I would appreciate if you could keep it to yourself?” asked Grenville.

  “Mum’s the word,” replied Preston. “If I can help in anyway let me know,” said a smiling Preston. Grenville felt better he had told someone and he knew Preston was the correct person to have told. Grenville always knew that Preston and his grandfather were the only two people he trusted in the world. Grenville showed Preston the contents of the two bags stuffed full of money and jewels.

  Preston gave a loud whistle when he saw the content of the bags. “Well, you certainly had a rare old time whilst you were in Belize, and very profitable,” said Preston, laughing.

  Grenville replied, “I have a ship docking in England in about three months with three crates full of stuff.”

  “OK, I will arrange transport for us,” said Preston.


  “Us? I don’t want you to compromise yourself, Preston. After all, it’s not quite above board.”

  Preston smiled. “Don’t worry, my lord. At my time of life an adventure now and again can lift the spirits.”

  Grenville held out his hand, which Preston shook. “Thank you, Preston, knew I could rely on your discretion,” said Grenville.

  “Always, my lord,” replied a still smiling Preston. “Just one more thing, perhaps it’s not my place to say,” said Preston.

  “Please, Preston, we don’t have secrets.” This made Preston smile again.

  “I think your brother has run the estate down.”

  “What do you mean, Preston?” asked Grenville, feeling concerned.

  “Well, and bear in mind this is what I have observed and estate rumour,” said Preston.

  Grenville knew that nothing happened around Hampton Hall without Preston knowing about it, plus if it was estate rumour as well then it was accurate. “Please go on, tell me your concerns,” said Grenville.

  “Your father handed over the running of the estate and hall to your brother a few years ago, and he made some pretty bad investments. A few of the tenant farmers and house staff are concerned. I think by the time your father found out the damage was done, and I am sure he is hiding it from your mother, which is not like him so it must be pretty bad,” said Preston.

  Grenville said, “Thank you, Preston, for bringing this to my attention. Please let the staff and the tenant farmers know, and that I will sort it.”

  Preston stood and said, “I always knew you would not let us down.” Smiling, Preston left the room.

  Once Preston had left, Grenville sat and wondered how bad his brother had left the estate. This made Grenville angry. “Bloody idiot,” said Grenville out loud. Grenville quickly showered and dressed and went down for breakfast.

  On entering the dining room his mother looked up and smiled. “Nice sleep, darling?” she said.

  “Yes, thank you, mother, I needed it,” said a laughing Grenville.

  Grenville went and gave his mother a kiss on the offered cheek. “Father not appeared yet?” asked Grenville.

  “He was up early, I think he is in his study,” replied his mother.

  Grenville caught the worried look in his mother’s eyes when she spoke. “Mother, is something bothering you?” Grenville asked.

  His mother smiled and said, “Why do you ask that, darling?”

  “Mother, we have never had secrets, so I know you are keeping something from me.”

  “I am worried for your father,” she said.

  “You mean the state of the estate,” replied Grenville.

  His mother looked shocked. “How did you know?” she asked.

  “Preston and rumour control around the estate.”

  His mother smiled and said, “Your father does not know I know.”

  “How did you find out, mother?” asked Grenville.

  “Your brother came to me a few months ago, with his begging bowl,” she said.

  “Oh mother, why?” said Grenville.

  “What could I do? He was my son and it was for the family estate,” said his mother. Grenville knew his mother had been independently wealthy in her own right as the only child of her late parents; they left her with a sizable inheritance.

  “How much, mother?” asked Grenville.

  His mother tried to laugh it off. “Nearly all of it,” she said.

  “Which was?” pushed Grenville.

  “Close to a million pounds,” she softly said.

  Grenville looked shocked; if his brother had borrowed close to a million from his own mother then how much had he lost on the estate? No wonder his father was worried. Grenville went and sat next to his mother. Taking her hand, he said, “Mother, don’t worry, I am home now and I will sort out this mess, and save the family.”

  Grenville’s mother placed her hand on his face and with tears in her eyes said, “I wish your brother was more like you, my darling.”

  Grenville kissed his mother and said, “Please don’t worry, mother, it will be OK.”

  She smiled at him again and said, “I have every faith in you, my darling.”

  After breakfast Grenville went for a walk in the garden to clear his head. What Preston and his mother had told him came as a shock. No wonder his father was worried; the estate had been in the family for countless generations. Grenville cursed his brother for being a fool, an arrogant bloody fool; if he had not returned when he had done, and his brother was still alive, would there still have been an ancestral family estate for him to return home to? Plus, he was sure he would not have been welcome. Smiling, Grenville thought how life can twist and turn and throw you a life line. With his brother’s death and his new-found circumstances, he would save the family, and still smiling he could feel his grandfather’s presence. “Don’t worry Grandpa, I will sort it,” he said out loud.

  Grenville spotted Stevens the family solicitor’s car coming up the driveway. Grenville walked towards the entrance to meet Mr Stevens. “Mr Stevens, how the devil are you, old chap?” said Grenville, approaching Mr Stevens with his hand out.

  Mr Stevens shook Grenville by the hand and said, “Young Grenville, nice to see you again. Sorry they are not in better circumstances.”

  Grenville smiled and said, “Indeed.” Holding out his arm, Grenville said, “Shall we? I think father is in the study.”

  “After you, Grenville,” replied Mr Stevens.

  Grenville lightly knocked on his father’s study, and heard, “Enter,” before standing aside to allow Mr Steven to enter first. Grenville’s father came from behind the desk and said, “Stevens, nice to see you again, how are you?”

  “Very well thank you, your Grace,” replied Stevens, shaking the offered hand.

  “Please sit down. Coffee?” asked Grenville’s father.

  “Most gracious, your Grace,” said Stevens, bowing.

  “Grenville,” said his father, pointing to the seat next to Stevens.

  After Preston, had brought in the coffee and served, the meeting started.

  “Shall I start?” said Stevens.

  “Please,” said the Duke, clearing his throat.

  Stevens went on, pulling out an official document from his briefcase, “I just need Grenville and yourself to formally sign the act of Hereditary Peerages passing the title of Earl of Eastleigh and the future title of Duke of Hampshire from yourself, your Grace, to your second son, Grenville St Louis Hampton. This will supersede the one signed by you and your late son Stephan, so only Grenville as the Earl of Eastleigh can have claim on the family title, Duke of Hampshire.”

  Grenville’s father smiled at Grenville, and said, “Good, all legal and above board.”

  This statement made Grenville feel intrigued as to why had his father rushed to make sure he was the next in line, unless someone else had a claim that he did not know about. After they both signed, Stevens placed the document back in his suitcase. “Congratulations,” said Stevens, bowing slightly at Grenville, “you are now sanctioned the twelfth Earl of Eastleigh and the future twelfth Duke of Hampshire.”

  “Thank you, Mr Stevens, most kind,” replied Grenville. Grenville looked at his father, who was smiling at him. Grenville smiled back and said, “Mr Stevens, I am sure you did not drive all the way from London just to make me sign that document.” Stevens fidgeted in his chair and cleared his voice.

  “Grenville,” said his father, “we have estate business to attend to, nothing to worry you about.”

  “Oh, but father it does, I know what has been going on.”

  Both his father and Stevens stared at Grenville. Stevens tried to look away, and his father placed his head in his hands and said, “I am sorry, my boy.”

  Grenville smiled. “OK, Mr Stevens, give it to me straight, and please do not sugar coat it. I need to know everything.”

  Stevens look at Grenville’s father, who held out his hands and said, “OK, tell him Stevens.”

 
Stevens nodded at the eleventh Duke of Hampshire and said, “My Lord, it is not a pretty tale. Some years ago, your father passed the managing of the estate over to your brother Stephan. As your brother took up the reigns of the estate he brought in his personal advisor, a Mr Dexter Simon-Smyth, and between them they made some very bad investment calls so they started to plunder the estate accounts, liquidating assets and borrowing heavily against the estate.”

  Grenville looked at his father, who had his eyes closed. Mr Stevens continued. “So, it was one bad investment after another, until the bank refused a credit line, and then your brother went to the extraordinary length of actually having the estate valued for sale. This of course was done without anyone’s knowledge.”

  “But surely he could not legally sell the estate?” asked Grenville.

  “He had every right, as your father had handed over the running of the estate to him, in a legal document signed by both parties,” replied Stevens.

  “So, what is the state of play now?” asked Grenville.

  “The estate is over budget by four million two hundred and fifty-seven pounds and thirty pence.”

  “So, what are our options?” asked Grenville.

  Mr Stevens smiled. “There are no options, My Lord, the account needs to be settled by the end of next month.”

  “Or?” asked Grenville.

  “Or the estate will be placed on the market to cover the debt,” replied Mr Stevens.

  “Which bank was my brother dealing with? Obviously, it was not the family bank,” asked Grenville.

  “There lies the rub, the bank is run by Mr Dexter Simon-Smyth, Easington Investment Bank,” replied Mr Stevens.

  “How much did my brother lose?” asked Grenville quietly.

  “Well, as a rough estimate, just short of twenty million. Before your brother took over management, your family and especially your grandfather and father had built up quite a profitable estate,” said Mr Stevens.

  “Sorry my boy, looks like I only have my title to pass on to you,” said his father quietly.

  Grenville smiled and turned to Mr Stevens. “Mr Stevens, anything else?”

  “Now you are home, next week I have summoned all parties for the reading of your brother’s will”.