Ashford’s Version
Second sleepless night in a row. All I can do is lie in bed contemplating the darkness.
Bankruptcy is the most humiliating thing that could ever happen to me: I could be expelled from the House of Lords, become the laughing stock of the whole Parliament and, of course, put my own title at risk.
It’s pretty simple: a title of nobility is honorific, and those who fail to account for their debts result in being dishonoured, because their word has no value.
If, the other night, the news of bankruptcy made me simply nervous, now I’m really pissed off with Derek. Not only didn’t he find a solution, he didn’t even try. He picked a case which is even worse than mine and simply put it on top of the pile, to wait and see what would come out of it.
Man plus woman, debts plus inheritance, equals marriage. What an idea! One wouldn’t expect an Oxford graduate to be such a mediocre solicitor. Watching Perry Mason would probably get him better results.
How could he even imagine that I would marry that freak.
Jemma left me literally speechless! What about her table manners? It was like having dinner with a chimpanzee, no offence to them.
Not to mention her appearance. For all my life, I’ve thought that women care a lot about their looks, but Jemma destroyed all my beliefs.
Clown make-up, poorly matched clothes – which would be too provocative even for a nightclub dancer – half pink tailbone length hair… basically, a failed Spice Girl.
The Spice Girls, aka the peak of the nineties’ trashy style.
Could you imagine any of the Spice Girls becoming a duchess?
No, you couldn’t. Since Derek has no idea what to do, I’ll have to handle this myself.
Before breakfast, I put on one of my best designer suits as I’ve decided to visit the banks where my accounts are overdrawn, discuss the situation and find a solution.
Just as I’m knotting my tie, I notice that someone is knocking insistently on the door: it’s Lance.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Your Grace, but your presence is required downstairs.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’m sure that any excuse my mother has come up with can wait.”
“Actually, Her Grace the duchess is at the upholsterer’s atelier. But there are two visitors waiting for you at the door.”
I give a snort of irritation while buttoning my cuff. “What a pain. If they were so rude as to turn up without notice and uninvited, then they will wait for as long as I need.”
“They said they are from the Royal & Treasures Bank.” Lance’s words affect me as an air raid siren would.
I drop the cufflinks on my bed and rush out of the room, almost knocking my butler down.
When I see the two bankers at the bottom of the stairs, sporting a solemn expression and a shiny briefcase each, I’m out of breath for a moment.
“Welcome to Denby Hall, gentlemen. Are you from the Royal & Treasures Bank?”
The two men exchange a look, then the lock of one of the briefcases clicks and a document comes out of it.
“Yes, the Duke of Burlingham we presume, we represent the legal department. The bank has notified both your adviser and your solicitor several times that a timely repayment of your overdraft is required. Have you been informed?”
“Yes, we discussed the matter,” I reply vaguely to avoid alarming them too much.
“Then you must be aware of the fact that, since we didn’t receive any response as regards your repayment plan, we were forced into being more proactive. Please.” The tallest of the two hands me the document.
I look at it without reading it properly because panic has just attacked me and I don’t get what I see.
The officer doesn’t wait for a reply before announcing the inevitable: “This is the last notification to inform you that the bank intends to take legal action. You won’t be notified any further. If the Royal & Treasures Bank don’t receive a reply, we will be forced to start the procedure for debt collection, which will be concluded by an enforceable judgement.”
“Debt collection? You mean…” I say, but my throat tightens up before I can complete the sentence.
“Foreclosure.”
“What? No, you can’t do that!” I don’t know how to object.
“You will be allowed to express your objections to the judge when you’re summoned. However, my advice is to seize this opportunity to repay your debts. Foreclosure certainly wouldn’t benefit your image.”
“Listen to me, gentlemen. I know that since my father died, the situation has deteriorated. My intention was to come to the bank this morning and discuss it. Let’s sit around a table and find a solution. I am the Duke of Burlingham, I’m sure that among my properties…”
“Which, according to the Royal & Treasures Bank are quite at risk, at this time…” says the tall thin man, with the enthusiasm of a gravedigger.
At the end of the driveway, I can see dust rising under the wheels of my mother’s car.
My mother is here, while the bank officials are talking about foreclosure.
“All right. Just give me forty-eight hours and I’ll get your money and the interest back. Please, stop the procedure. I give you my word on this, you’ll have every single penny back.”
“Is forty-eight hours enough, considering the total amount under discussion?”
Think, Ashford, think quickly. “I’m getting married soon,” I let slip. “My wife-to-be is a very rich woman. I can guarantee that I’ll do what I said.”
The two men look at each other, raising their eyebrows pretty eloquently.
“The bank is very serious about this, you should think carefully about what we told you. The situation is critical. None of the subjects involved wants media exposure. Certainly not you, I suppose.”
While the two gravediggers take their leave, my mother arrives and she looks pretty dazed. “Ashford, would you please tell me who these people are?”
I take her aside so that the officials don’t hear.
“I have called a security team for an inspection. Denby Hall may need surveillance for that visit,” I say, emphasising the word ‘visit’ as much as possible.
“The royal visit,” she specifies with a twinkle in her eye, as if saying it made it more tangible and real.
“That’s right, the two gentlemen in suits with briefcases are from a security service; I showed them around so that they can assess and implement security.”
“Oh, Ashford, what a splendid idea! And I thought you didn’t care!”
“I was joking, Mother. You never understand my jokes.” Thank God she doesn’t, I’d say.
My mother withdraws to the conservatory while, in a mix of relief and terror, I watch the officials’ car leave Denby.
With a light footed leap, Lance joins me. “Her Grace the duchess will never have to know, is that correct?”
“You’ll take that to your grave, Lance.”
“I thought so.”
Both surprised and angry at myself, I take my mobile to call Derek.