The Duke immediately made his way to his study, his steps were angry and quick. The sight of those children irritated him. He knew what their presence meant.
The Duke sat at his grand mahogany desk, fingers drumming anxiously against the surface. He looked at the various papers scattered on the desk.
Most of it was the estate's expenses while the others were invitations to social gatherings. His hand balled into a fist and slammed against the table.
All the truly significant documents: the business contracts, the records of the Duchy's finances, were all locked away, safely guarded by his wife, the Duchess. She trusted him with nothing. She always locks her study whenever she leaves.
And all he gets are these petty expenses. He knew his position in the Duchy. He was a glorified 'trophy husband' wasn't he? She never let him touch anything important.
