Mr. Burrows simply blinked, raising his eyebrows slightly and waiting.
"Carry on." Charles waved his hand, somewhat chagrined at his idiotic question. After all, if there were a spinster aunt or bachelor uncle, hell, any relative at all, they wouldn't be given to him as wards.
"As I was saying…" Mr. Burrows shot Charles a pointed gaze. "The girls were left quite without any family. Only providence connected them with you, your grace. You see, they are actually your mother's second cousins, God rest her soul."
"So I'm the urchins' cousin? Bloody perfect." Charles mumbled under his breath.
"So it would seem." Mr. Burrows stood, collecting the papers from Charles's outstretched hand. "You'll not need to worry about a dowry or any such things for the young ladies. Their parents left them quite a bit of wealth. However, I would suggest you begin a search for a proper governess."
"Bloody hell, another female in my house. Exactly what I need."
"Yes, well, that female might be your salvation in helping you train the children into young ladies. After all, they'll need to someday make a match."
"That's the only way I'm ever going to be rid of them, isn't it?" Charles combed back his jet-black hair with his hand, feeling a miserable headache beginning at the base of his neck.
"Perhaps." Mr. Burrows nodded and turned away, but not before Charles saw the slightest hint of a grin. "The young ladies will arrive in a few days, I expect. If you need anything more, you know where to reach me. Good night, your grace." Mr. Burrows paused at the door.
"Good night, Mr. Burrows."
Charles strode over to the fire, studying the orange and red flames. Truly, this was the worst sort of news. At three and thirty, he wasn't necessarily old, but he was quite accustomed and comfortable with his way of life. Oh, he knew eventually he'd have to suffer through a woman's presence enough to marry her and produce an heir, but he still figured he had at least five years before that would be necessary.
And to be sure, he was waiting until it was absolutely necessary.
A few days, a mere forty-eight hours and his entire existence would be in upheaval. To think, only four hours ago he was looking forward to a cozy evening with Céline, the opera diva he had sequestered in a little townhouse not far away. Under the present circumstances, he no longer was looking forward to anything. Rather, he was quite content to stand before the fire and feel sorry for himself.
Of course! He could take the girls to the country and leave them there with a governess.
Why hadn't he thought of it before? It was a stroke of brilliance. He needn't have his life interrupted after all! Surely the young ladies wouldn't want him around anyhow. Why, he'd only be in the way. A governess would be infinity more suitable for them. He needn't interfere!
Suddenly the evening was brighter, even the fire cast a cheerier glow about the room. All he had to do was secure a governess. And that couldn't be hard to do. He'd simply inquire about and interview prospective persons. Better yet, Mrs. Pott, the housekeeper, could interview. She'd be far more capable and wise in knowing what made a good governess.
Charles congratulated himself on his brilliant plan and to celebrate, strode over to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a glass of amber-colored brandy.
"Cheers," he murmured.
Already those girls were as good as gone.
Two Days Later, Near Bath.
Mr. Burrows regarded his young client, impressed with the poise and grace in one so young. Why, she couldn't be a day over eighteen. Miss Carlotta Standhope was uncommonly pretty, it was a shame that she'd not have a come out. The ton would have celebrated her golden hair and clear green eyes, but it was her character that made her supremely appealing, he decided.
It must have been a severe blow for her to discover the future she'd anticipated was no longer available to her. It was part of his business, delivery of unwelcome news. However the young woman was taking it all in with such grace and poise, it caused him to greatly respect the young woman. Pity pinched his heart. Unaccustomed to any emotional response when dealing with his clients, he fidgeted with his spectacles "I'm sure you'd like a moment…" He stood to leave, offering her a moment to gather herself in private.
"No, please." Her green eyes widened as she visibly swallowed. "I need to understand the full depth of my change in situation. Please…continue." She took a deep breath as if fortifying herself.
"Very well, Miss Standhope." He nodded then resumed his seat. "As I know you're aware, upon you parents passing several years ago, the substantial inheritance they left for you was primarily invested overseas, in the Caribbean. The interest from that investment has been what you've lived on these past years. I'm sorry to say that with the recent tropical cyclone, the investment in the Caribbean was a total loss."