Page 24 of Cocky August Rake

Rumor had it Harry had opened the brothel out of spite. It had been an insult. One final way to spit in the old duke’s eye.

Perhaps that was partly why he had handed it to Reginald now, so that he’d get a similar revenge. But Reginald knew there was more to it than that.

The Domus had been an offering between brothers. An apology for leaving him behind.

And Reginald had not possessed the heart to refuse it.

But he had never promised to keep it.

He could not, in good conscience, profit from a place where women sold access to their bodies, no matter how carefully his brother had managed it.

The property stood in a prime location. The artwork alone would fetch a tidy sum. There were investments, accounts, furnishings—all of it valuable.

Enough so that not one of its employees need walk away destitute.

But first, they’d get their thirty-one days.

It was more than most landlords would give.

It was more than⁠—

A knock sounded at the door.

Reginald straightened.

“Yes?”

Mr. Huxley entered sideways, balancing three ledgers beneath one arm, a stack of loose papers against his chest, and what appeared to be a small wooden box tucked precariously beneath his chin. He was a slight man, shorter than most, with thinning brown hair and spectacles that made him look permanently on the verge of misplacing something important.

When his cuff caught on the door latch, he paused, adjusted himself without dropping a single item, and stepped inside.

“You wished to understand the workings of The Domus, my lord.”

Reginald nearly guffawed at that. He understood the workings all too well.

“I wished to see the accounts, yes”

“Very good…” Mr. Huxley arranged the ledgers in a precise stack at the center of the desk. Organized the loose papers. And opened the box, revealing a handful of keys.

Reginald looked down at them, then at the man hovering beside him.

“You may leave them.”

Huxley’s hands folded neatly before him. He looked as though he had several further explanations prepared. “If your lordship has questions⁠—”

“I shall find you.”

Huxley hesitated, until finally: “Yes, my lord.”

Reginald gave a short nod.

With one final searching glance at Reginald’s desk, Huxley slipped from the office, leaving the door open behind him.

Reginald shook his head and pulled the nearest ledger toward him.

Initially, the books were just as expected. Balance sheets with the expected lists of credits and debits.

Scheduled household expenses. Wages for servants. Payments for coal, food, repairs, linens, security. Individual earnings carefully recorded beside sums held in private accounts. Medical expenses. Clothing allowances. Notes regarding clients who had been barred from the house.