The Secret Garden Chapter 5: Welcome to Ashby Manor by D.L. Copyright  © 2011 D.L. All Rights Reserved. Inspired by the classic children’s tale by Frances Hodgson Burnett.

“His lordship will return later this afternoon, and is bringing guests. Your presence has been requested for afternoon tea,” Martha told Richard, when serving breakfast the following morning.

The young man spent the first half of the day continuing to survey the gardens, triangulating and mapping the features for future reference, learning the layout of the grounds so he could navigate through them without getting lost.

Mid-afternoon, a carriage pulled up outside of Ashby Manor. Lord Headley disembarked and headed for his study, instructing afternoon tea should be served, and that the young Master Headley should join him.

Martha was sent to fetch the young man, who was waiting in his room, using his measurements to plot the gardens on a large sheet of parchment. Knowing that his presence would be requested, he had stayed in after lunch.

On hearing that he had been called for, Richard got up, picked up the small satchel that he normally used for carrying his artwork, and followed the servant to the study. The lord’s private butler was waiting outside the room, and Martha handed the child to him and made her exit. The butler opened the door and announced the boy’s presence.

“Master Richard, Sir,” the butler proclaimed. The young man stepped into the room and glanced round at his surroundings. The study was lined in wood panelling and a fireplace occupied one wall. The room was dominated by a large wooden desk, where his uncle was sitting.

The older man looked at the boy standing before him. The child looked a lot like his father had at his age, but with a much darker skin tone. Lord Headley had been worried that the boy may look obviously half-caste, something that would not go over well in society. However, Richard just appeared to be a well-tanned European.

Coming round the desk, Samuel Headley approached the young boy, who bowed formally at his approach.

“You have my condolences at your loss. Having lost my own parents a couple of years ago I know how upsetting that can be,” he said to the boy, who nodded but remained silent.

“Please take a seat. We have some things to discuss. Mrs Medlock told me of your problems with speech, Richard,” Samuel added. The young boy again nodded. “I have asked for a chalk board to be set up in the drawing room, I suspect we will need it later in order to communicate when our guests arrive.”

The two generations of the Headley household sat at opposite sides of the large desk.

“As you are aware, your father was a successful businessman, exporting tea from India for consumption here in England. As part of his will, which I believe has already been read to you?” Samuel queried to which the boy nodded. “You inherit his shares, making you the principal shareholder. These are being held in trust until you mature. Until then, I have been given the task of looking after the company on your behalf.”

The young man nodded again in acknowledgement. He already knew this before he left India. It had taken several weeks before he was strong enough to travel. Captain Edwards had been assigned to look after him, and assisted in sorting out his father’s affairs before they left.

The butler knocked, then entered the study, “Your guests have arrived and are in the drawing room.”

Acknowledging the butler, Samuel led the boy to where the two men were waiting.

“Welcome to my home, I hope you both had pleasant journeys,” Lord Headley greeted them. “This is my nephew, Richard. Richard, this is Mr Baxter and Mr Wainwright. Mr Baxter is my solicitor and handles my legal affairs. Mr Wainwright is in charge of Headley Tea’s London office.”

Everybody shook hands. The men settled down to business over afternoon tea, Richard taking position next to the blackboard in order to write down anything he needed to say, Samuel explaining why it was required.

“Mr Wainwright how goes the trade?” his lordship asked.

“Production stopped for three weeks due to the outbreak. Nearly a third of the workforce died, another third were left seriously ill. The latest communication is that production is back up to seventy percent, but will take several months to recover fully. Although gross profit has been badly affected, the net profit won’t fare as badly. The largest cost is manual labour, and with fewer people left to pay, the overheads are reduced,” Mr Wainwright reported, handing a copy of the latest accounts to Lord Headley. “Current end of year estimates are for three hundred pounds net.”

Richard gasped in surprise, immediately retrieving a ledger from his case he started to check his notes. The other men watched in puzzlement as the sullen and withdrawn boy suddenly became animated. Richard stood and turned to the blackboard, writing in large white letters the words “Last estimate before I left India:  £2,573 net profit, including  £500 donation to support families affected by outbreak. Explain.”

The boy then stood and stared at Mr Wainwright, crossing his arms in front of him and raising his eyebrows in a questioning look.

The men glanced at each other, wondering how to respond. Mr Wainwright then answered, “Where do you get your information? I have copies of the accounts forwarded from India; they show nowhere near that level of income.”

The boy opened his notebook and showed it to his uncle. The book contained passages of shorthand, followed by longhand writing. Clipped in the book were loose sheets of typed text that matched the handwritten passages. The older man sat and read the entries of the journal for ten minutes while the other people patiently waited.

“Mr Wainwright, who is running the company at the Darjeeling end?” Lord Headley enquired.

“Mr Alfred Carpenter, the former under-manager we promoted to fill the position of the late Mr Headley,” the man answered.

“Sack him, or better yet, have him arrested. I have reason to believe he is acting fraudulently,” Samuel stated. “I have here minutes of all the senior management meetings for the last year. In the last meeting to take place before everybody fell ill, it states that a detailed audit had been commenced due to the discovery of irregularities in the books. An external auditor, a Miss Rose Kayeeda, employed directly by my brother Fredrick, had looked at the books and found discrepancies. The finger of blame was pointed in Carpenter’s direction, but this obviously wasn’t acted upon.”

“This person sounds like a native, can she be trusted? The surname is Indian, and you said ‘Miss’, so I assume she didn’t marry into the name,” Mr Baxter asked. “If this person is still alive, then they may be able to provide testimony.”

Turning to Richard, his uncle then asked, “Do you know this person? Is she reliable? Is she still alive? Do you know how to contact her?” Each question was answered with a nod of the head. “Then that is all the clarification I need.” Turning to his two guests, he then stated, “I would like you two to liaise on getting to the bottom of this matter. I will see about contacting Miss Kayeeda to obtain a copy of her findings.”

After some further discussions of logistics, it was decided that further investigation was required, and the two guests departed for London, taking the loose typed sheets for copying.

Once they had gone, Richard produced a second notebook from his bag and handed it to his uncle; he then proceeded to write ‘Miss Kayeeda’s notes’ on the blackboard.

Looking in surprise, Samuel started to skim-read some of the findings. The investigation had been ongoing for several weeks, but the findings had never been written up into a final report. It would appear only half of the notes had been converted into typed text.

“I will read these thoroughly over the weekend and speak to my colleagues on Monday. I want you to know that you can trust me. I fully intend to keep your father’s business running so that you may one day take over the helm when you are ready,” Lord Headley stated. The young man nodded in agreement.