Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
So that was something to look forward to.
The oh-so-not boring stuff:
Those candlesticks were Chippendale.
Yep.
They were.
And that only scratched the surface.
The curator from the V and A lost her mind, and since her visit, Prue had more than a half a dozen experts out to look at things, authenticate them and value them. She’d found tons of stuff in that old filing cabinet to help (but alas, nothing that would help my book, all the stuff in the cabinet predated 1880).
There were two more Chippendale pieces, gorgeous giltwood and painted satinwood pier tables that the four siblings agreed would be perfect on either side of the opening to the great hall. Thus, they’d been taken away to be cleaned.
Further, there was a Hepplewhite piece, three by Alexander Roux, five by Lannuier and one by Eileen Gray (Prue, no surprise, was keeping the Gray).
There was also a Sisley painting (which had been taken away as well to be cleaned so it could be displayed somewhere in The Downs).
And then some.
A lot more some.
This engendered a spirited conversation at the dinner table one weekend, the only times now when both Battle and Tempie were home (as such, Hamish was also always there, and a not so important aside: he was hilarious, totally down-to-earth, super friendly, and so much Tempie’s opposite, it made them perfect).
And that was when I learned what The Fund was.
Not at the table.
I asked Battle when we went back to his bedroom.
“There’s an untouchable endowment that pays for property taxes, maintenance, upgrades and staffing of The Downs and Burleigh House,” he shared. “I manage this carefully, though I can only make moderate- to low-risk investments to keep it growing, as the terms of the endowment dictate. Outside those reasons, it cannot be touched, and by that I mean, withdrawals made. We can deposit whatever we wish, but once it’s in, it can’t come out.”
“That makes sense.”
Although it did, it only partially explained a fascinating question I had that I hadn’t asked (because…truth: even if Battle and I were what we were becoming, still, at this juncture in our relationship, it would be rude).
That question being how they managed to keep that property and their lives the way they did.
Battle had already explained some of the estate’s income, and even if he didn’t get into detail, I knew no way would that cover all of their lifestyles.
And sure, I knew Battle was very wealthy, but there’s wealth and then there was The Downs and Burleigh House, horses, cars, security, staff, recent redecoration, the way all of them dressed, etc.
And Battle was wealthy. Tempie managed income they’d probably had for centuries, and Prue and Chassie didn’t have jobs.
Therefore, it did not explain Prue’s four-hundred-pound beanie, Chassie’s three-hundred-pound dresses or Tempie’s Versace shoes.
Battle must have seen my confusion, because he continued, “There’s a surplus from The Fund at the moment, which I reinvest. The income Tempie makes, which is considerable, is split between the three of them. Not equitably, since Tempie does all the work, but Prue nor Chassie has any other expenditures, so it’s rare they’ll ask for more. And when they do, it’s for something like Chassie’s flower shop, which I funded personally.”
“Right, so what’s the big deal about augmenting The Fund?”
“Growth from moderate- to low-risk investments sometimes won’t cover the cost of inflation. We can only use the interest we make on those, so it’s consistently necessary to augment The Fund to keep on top of paying to manage both houses.”
“And if you don’t keep doing that, what? You’ll lose property?”
“Fortunately, I make enough that wouldn’t be a problem. But it’s my job, all of our jobs, to secure the future of the duchy.”
“So selling those two hideous Louis XV gilt candelabras with porcelain chickens in the middle of them will assist in keeping the duchy running smoothly,” I deduced.
He smiled. “Precisely.”
I smiled in return.
At this point in our discussion, he cocked his head to the side and reiterated, “I make enough that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Okay,” I said so he knew I’d heard him this time, even if I’d heard him the last one.
“Darling, I’m an independently wealthy man.”
I didn’t know why he was saying that out loud since I already knew.
He came to me, gathered my hair at my nape in both hands, resting his forearms on my shoulders, and he dipped to me.
“That money, my money, will be placed in trusts for my children, their educations and their futures, as well as set aside for a very comfortable retirement for myself and my wife. Not to mention, in the interim, used on important things, like tennis bracelets,” he said quietly.
Ah.
I grinned up at him.
He used my hair to tip my head further back, and he kissed me.
And we quit talking about The Fund, as fascinating as it was, and started doing better, far more fascinating (and fun) things.