Authors: Dee Julian
The man sighed. “You’d better sit down, your Grace.”
Nicolas chose to remain standing.
“
I’ll begin on a positive note,” the solicitor announced. “The chief magistrate has studied the adoption request for young Edwin. In fact, he’s taken over the proceedings. He inquired if you might be available to meet at his office around one o’clock this afternoon instead of waiting until next week.”
“
Yes, of course. What’s the bad news?”
Harcourt drew a stack of papers from the brown leather satchel he kept close at hand. “While searching for the original document to Drake shipping, I came across the deeds to several properties along with a copy of your grandfather’s will. Therein lies the problem.”
“
With the properties or the will?”
“
Specifically, the wording in the will.” Harcourt sat down and unfolded the document in question. “According to the previous duke’s wishes, Drake Shipping belongs solely to his heir. Not heirs.”
“
You’re saying my brother didn’t own an equal share?”
“
Correct.”
“
Since Adrian is deceased, I fail to see how this translates into a problem.”
“
Allow me to continue, your Grace. Your grandfather’s will stipulates that if an heir wishes to sell the company, he may do so under certain conditions.”
“
What conditions?”
Harcourt handed him the will.
Nicolas glanced over the document. When he came to the last paragraph, the wording could not have been more precise.
Ownership of Drake Shipping, belonging exclusively to the Duke of Chase, cannot be sold in separate shares nor can any of those shares be offered as payment of a debt or in exchange for dismissing a debt. If the company is sold, it must be in its entirety, and the name promptly changed.
“
This complicates matters,” Nicolas muttered. “Is there nothing you can do?”
“
I’m afraid not.” The solicitor removed his wire-rimmed glasses. “Your grandfather’s will is binding.”
“
What about the vineyards and distillery in southern Italy?”
“
Profitable but small.”
Nicolas shuffled through the other papers. “There’s the villa in France. My mother loved spending summers there. And this is the deed to my grandmother’s London townhouse. Surely both properties are worth a tidy sum.”
“
Yes, but their combined value doesn’t add up to even a quarter of your shipping business.”
Nicolas stumbled upon a document he hadn’t seen before. “What’s this?”
“
A worthless diamond mine, your Grace. It rarely produced. I suspect your grandfather kept it for sentimental reasons.”
“
And you’d be mistaken. When it came to business, Bartholomew Drake wasn’t known for his sentiment.” An addendum to the deed caught his attention. He quickly eyed the solicitor. “Grandfather deeded the mine to his future wife two days after the purchase?”
“
To Margaret Spence. Yes, that’s correct. I wasn’t told the exact details, but his Grace hinted that he’d found himself on the losing end of some sort of wager he’d made with your grandmother.”
“
Interesting. He must’ve once thought the mine held some value.”
“
I would imagine so, but that particular transaction took place some twenty years before I became the duke’s solicitor. I did inquire once about the wisdom of keeping such a property, but his Grace wouldn’t hear of selling it. You know, even though the mine never produced more than a handful of diamonds, those who knew of it assumed your grandfather had made a fortune from it.”
“
And he likely never told them any different.” A sudden idea occurred to Nicolas. “Harcourt, do you suppose a blackmailer might draw the same conclusion?”
“
That the mine has value?” The man shrugged. “Miss Santiago is a clever woman, but her greed could very well surpass her knowledge of such matters.”
“
It could indeed,” Nicolas stated. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Twenty
With so many servants going about their duties, carrying in case after case of champagne, colorful urns and decorative chairs, the air in Greyson Manor’s massive ballroom had become stuffy.
Leah slipped her hand inside a pocket of her day dress and withdrew the oriental fan Lady Ashburn had gifted her with several years before. She had just begun to make use of the delicate object when her father pulled her aside.
“
Where are the floral arrangements, my dear?”
“
They’re arriving later this afternoon.”
“
Have we adequate help for the food tables?”
“
Yes, Father.”
“
Splendid. Did you inform the kitchen staff in regards to serving lemonade to our younger guests?”
“
No, you did that yesterday.”
“
Did I?” He smiled. “What would I do without you?”
“
You’d be lost, my lord.” She linked her arm through his and steered him toward the balcony and fresh air.
“
Have you spoken to Chase lately?”
“
No.”
“
A pity.”
A cool breeze stirred through the trees, and she strolled to the row of steps leading down to the gardens. Nothing had changed, because the Duke of Chase would never change. He liked his life the way he’d purposely structured it.
Uncluttered.
Unemotional.
Unattached.
Leah turned. “What did you mean...a pity?”
“
A pity you cannot see what’s beneath your pretty nose.”
“
I beg your pardon?”
“
I’ve given careful consideration to the thought of you and Chase,” he said. “And I’ve come to the conclusion that you two are perfect for one another.”
“
We are not perfect. Especially for one another.”
“
Then why do you look at him with such longing?”
Instead of denying the truth, she said, “Because I have foolishly lost my heart to the most irritating, arrogant, stubborn, overbearing--”
“
Good heavens!”
“
...ineligible gentleman who ever lived. The duke has no intention of ever sharing his heart.”
“
I don’t believe that.”
“
It’s true, Father. The only reason I agreed to this false betrothal was for Edwin’s sake.” Leah raised the oriental fan and vigorously fanned her face. “Pay no mind to my sour disposition.”
“
You know, my dear, if your betrothal to the duke had come about by way of a genuine affection for one another, I daresay this Bal Masque would be one of the happiest ever.”
“
Yes, and I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“
Hush, child.” He kissed her brow. “And just so you know…I haven’t given up on Chase.”
“
What do you mean?”
His expression turned comically blank.
Before she could question him further, the housekeeper appeared with news that the carpenters had arrived. His lordship excused himself and hurried inside.
Leah followed and dutifully remained by her father’s side until the workers set about building the podium for the musicians. With all the hammering and pounding, her head began to throb, and she eventually excused herself and headed upstairs. As she passed the sewing room, she overheard a conversation between the housekeeper and a young servant girl.
“
What a lovely weddin’ gown.”
The housekeeper grunted as she shook the dust from the sheet. “Too lovely for this dressmaker’s dummy.”
“
Isn’t your eldest gettin’ married next month?”
“
To a respectable man from Dover, yes. A constable, no less. My husband says he’s got a fair amount of coin tucked away.”
“
Your daughter’s a fortunate woman. Has she been fitted for a gown yet?”
“
No, and bless her…she’s got her heart set on satin.”
“
A shame. It’ll cost a pretty coin.”
“
Yes, and then there’s the dressmaker’s bill.” The housekeeper touched the wedding gown and sighed. “How I wish I could afford somethin’ this fine.”
A sudden weight lifted off Leah’s shoulders, freeing her wounded soul and giving her a peace she hadn’t felt in years. She walked inside the room. “Take it.”
Both women spun around, guilt written on their faces.
“
Give this gown to your daughter with my blessing,” Leah said to the astonished housekeeper. “You may call it a wedding gift.”
“
Oh, miss…I couldn’t.”
“
I insist. It will do nothing but gather dust here.”
Tears gathered in the older woman’s eyes. “Thank you, Miss Leah.”
Leah smiled all the way to her room. She’d done something good. Something that lifted her spirits and at the same time broke the curse of a morbid ritual.
She lay down on the bed. The commotion going on in the ballroom downstairs drifted into the background and became a muffled compilation of intermittent noise. She eased the etiquette book from beneath a pillow and flipped through the pages to the section Anne had made her promise to read.
Chapter Five. Rules of Engaging a Gentlemen’s Interest.
Rules?
Observation Number 1. If a lady shows too much interest in a gentleman, he’ll soon grow bored, and she’ll find herself chasing after him.
When they’d first met, the duke enjoyed tormenting Leah. Now he avoided her. Had he guessed her true feelings just as her father had?
Observation Number 2. Never pursue a gentleman. He would like nothing better. If you wish to win his heart, you mustn’t dance to his tune.
If a man and woman enjoyed one another’s company, why couldn’t they be honest about it?
Observation Number 3. If a gentleman is particularly stubborn, demonstrate that you can get along fine without him. Warning...do not express this thought out loud.
“
Demonstrate? How?”
Observation Number 4. Allow your gentleman to suspect that he is not your first choice and unless he changes your opinion, he is merely a temporary distraction.
Translation...be deliberately dishonest.
Observation Number 5. Never argue with a gentleman. It isn’t proper or ladylike.
Too late. Leah had broken that rule many times and on several different occasions.
Observation Number 6. If another lady sets her mind on your gentleman, you must ignore her attempts to sway him. This can be very discouraging but take heart. Your cheerful indifference will likely annoy the woman.
“
Or make her more determined.”
Observation Number 7. When your gentleman finally asks to call on you, hesitate slightly.
“
What? This makes no sense at all.”
Observation Number 8. Do not overindulge at the dinner table. Nothing is more frightening to a gentleman than envisioning his future with an enormously plump wife.
At last…logical advice.
Observation Number 9. Use discrepancy in your first season but avoid selecting any one gentleman as the exclusive recipient of your favor. Instead, use your wits as well as your charm to encourage eager young gents to engage in harmless flirtation. Not only will this fill your dance card, it will make your heart race and leave a lovely blush upon your cheeks.
Leah closed the book. Was it wise to follow advice written some eighty years ago by an author who did not think enough of his or her work to add their name to it?
Probably not.
###
“
I don’t know about this, Granny.”
“
Stop calling me granny, boy.”
“
Grandmother Irma
,” Trinity pointedly corrected before he helped her alight from the carriage. “If anyone sees you, they’ll scream louder than a little girl with a snake down her dress.”
“
No one will see us, because we’re taking the back stairs to William’s office.”
“
All this just for a good laugh?”
“
My intentions are to jolt my dear brother out of his comfortable chair.” Irma chuckled. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing him scream like a little girl.”
“
Why, Irma Lou, you mean-spirited old hen.” Trinity tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and they walked toward the building’s rear entrance. “Aren’t you worried you’ll frighten Uncle William into any early grave?”
“
He’ll recognize me long before his heart gives out.”
“
You better hope so.” He shot her a sideways glance. “You couldn’t find a less intimidating costume?”
“
Sure, if I’d wanted to.” But this one had once belonged to Godfrey. The material still carried his familiar scent. Tobacco and lye soap. She eyed her grandson. “You look handsome in that gunslinger outfit, parading those six guns at your hips.”
“
Thank you, ma’am.” He unlocked the rear door and ushered her inside.
“
Why did you remove the black mask?”
“
Because back in Carson City a man wearing a mask might be mistaken for a bank robber and shot on sight.”