Whisper of Magic (12 page)

Celeste glanced around but no one else seemed to notice.
Lord Erran merely lifted a sardonic dark eyebrow, uninfluenced by Charlotte’s
sympathy. Of course, even Celeste’s own charm didn’t affect a man who responded
only to logic, so he was not a reliable indicator.

“The solicitor says our father left no will, although we
have witnesses who can attest otherwise.” Celeste used her best polite and
helpless voice. “Until the document is located, our father’s cousin has taken
charge of the estate. Do you know the Earl of Lansdowne?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Charlotte said vaguely, waving a
chubby hand. “My husband is an acquaintance. We are very rural, however, and
don’t go about much in society. I’m sure Lansdowne will do everything that is
proper. Perhaps my husband should apply to him to determine if we inherit
anything of my precious Papa’s belongings. You say there was a witness? Could
he say? I do so miss Papa’s letters.”

Or his money. He’d often sent her funds when she requested
them. Celeste looked up to Lord Erran. Good thing he was standing behind
Charlotte. The frown on his sun-browned visage was dark enough to scare crows.
He didn’t trust their visitor either?

“I don’t believe I explained,” Celeste addressed his
lordship sweetly, without answering Charlotte’s questions. “Papa married here
in England when he was still at Oxford. He took Charlotte’s mother with him to
Jamaica. She objected to the primitive society and returned to London when
Charlotte was very young. Papa provided support until Charlotte married, but she
has never visited with us.”

Their half-sister dabbed at her eyes with her lacy
handkerchief. “Charles and I had hoped to visit this year, but the children
were ill and with one thing or another, it just could not be helped. And now
I’ll never see dear Papa again.”

“You cannot possibly remember seeing Papa at all,” Sylvia
said with puzzlement. “You could not have been out of nappies when your mother
took you back to England.”

“He will be very much missed,” Celeste said, covering
Sylvia’s protest with a layer of honey. She needed as much information as she
could obtain, and as lovely as it would be to shred deceptive Charlotte into
snowflakes, she wasn’t in a position to burn bridges. “The Earl of Lansdowne
has not been very forthcoming. Like you, he has ignored our pleas for advice.”
She inserted the last malicious statement under the same tone of honey,
wondering how Charlotte would react.

Interestingly, Charlotte heard only the honey. The lady
continued dabbing at her eyes. Celeste sneaked another peek at Lord Erran. He
was fighting a snicker. The man heard her meanness despite her charm!

If he could hear the truth behind her sweetness, that wasn’t
just interesting, but frightening.

Charlotte finally looked up from her handkerchief-dabbing
and widened her eyes. “Couldn’t Ashford speak with the earl? Surely his
influence would persuade Lansdowne to release our funds?”

Our
funds? Celeste
hid a smirk of her own. Now she understood the sudden reason for a visit—the
lady needed money.

“The marquess is more likely to shoot the earl than speak
with him,” Lord Erran said in the same pleasant tones that she’d been using.
His deep baritone, however, rumbled the walls and did not exude charm. “I’d
suggest that you hire a solicitor if you think you were named in the will, but
unless you think you’re due more than five-hundred pounds, the solicitor will
cost more than you’ll gain.”

Five-hundred pounds! It would cost
five-hundred pounds
to fight for their inheritance and save Nana’s
family? They could live for a lifetime on five-hundred pounds! It was Celeste’s
turn to look wide-eyed, while Charlotte returned to sniffing.

Erran watched in disgust as the useless bird-wit escaped
without once offering to help the bereft Rochesters. He wondered if Lansdowne
might have sent the female here to find out what she could about witnesses and
documents. Erran was more than pleased that clever Miss Rochester had given
away nothing—which improved his humor.

He waited until he saw Mrs. Guilford depart in her carriage,
then raised an expectant eyebrow at his hostess. Miss Rochester looked serene
with her hands folded in her lap and her expression such that one would assume
butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. But he heard the emotion beneath her
controlled voice.

“
Five-hundred pounds
?”
she asked in disbelief and horror. “We cannot possibly find a sum so vast. How
are we ever to go home and save our people from the earl’s greed?”

As if attuned to this question, Jamar quietly arrived in the
doorway. As much as he would like to console his hostess, Erran had to be
practical. He addressed her man of business. “You said you were a witness to
the will, sir. Did Lord Rochester leave anything to his eldest daughter?”

“A small sum and a portrait of her mother,” Jamar answered
promptly. “He said he’d already provided her dowry and more. The rest was
needed to keep the plantation running and provide for his other daughters.
There
is
a will. I have seen it. Can
I not swear to it?”

“Would your testimony stand up in a Jamaican court?” Erran
asked, hoping the island would be a simpler place with better understanding.

The silence that followed said it all. If they could not win
in a Jamaican court, they had no chance in a British one. An African would not
hold leverage against an earl—not in that corrupt morass that was the equity
court.

“The executors have filed nothing with Chancery,” Erran said
into the despairing silence. “Lansdowne has merely had his solicitors draw up
documents as head of the family and presented them to the banks. As eldest male
and with no will to express otherwise, he has a strong claim. Do you have any
idea at all where Lord Rochester would have left copies of the will?”

“Just with our Jamaican solicitors,” Miss Rochester replied
sadly. “There might have been a copy in his desk.” She looked inquiringly at
Jamar.

“Possibly,” Jamar agreed. “But if our solicitors on the
island cannot or will not provide their copy, who can we trust to search for
another? And will anyone believe it should we present it to the court?”

“If a representative of a marquess presents it, they’ll
listen,” Erran assured them. “It will be more difficult here where we cannot
call on your island solicitors who wrote the will or any other witness but you,
but I can begin the correspondence and ask for affidavits. It will just take
time.”

“We do not have time,” Jamar said sadly. “The earl’s man has
already begun selling off the estate’s assets.”

“He means his son and Nana’s family, as well as the others.”
Trevor spoke up. “The bloody British may have made
shipping
slaves illegal, but it did not make slavery itself
illegal. Freedom papers are easily destroyed, but black skin isn’t. That’s all
the thieves need to convince others that our workers are slaves, when they
aren’t
.”

“They will hide,” Jamar said. “Noah knows all the caves. And
there are those who can smuggle them off the island. But the land will suffer
for it.”

The steward did not mention how hard that life would be for
children and old people, but Erran could picture the horror of cold caves and
no food.

Such tragedy put his bad day sharply in place. “This is
Friday, and most men leave for their rural homes so they may celebrate Sunday
services with their families. So I’ve arranged for one of your father’s London
solicitors to visit here on Monday. I’ve advised him to bring all documentation
giving Lansdowne control over your inheritance. With your permission, I’ll
bring in Ashford’s estate solicitors to insist that Miss Rochester should be
legal guardian of her siblings. A will expressing your father’s wishes would be
beneficial, but perhaps Jamar can be more influential in a private setting than
in a courtroom.”

“We cannot afford five-hundred pounds,” Miss Rochester
protested. Her lovely complexion had grown pale these past moments.

Erran wished he could reassure her, but he could only offer
his services. “Ashford pays his solicitors a retainer. Lansdowne will have to
pay his. And if it comes down to bribing court clerks, Ashford will owe you
rent if you allow him to occupy the lower floor. Money is not as important as
people,” he concluded decisively.

And given the anarchy he’d seen in the courts today, he
might as well call on his barmy sister-in-law’s stars and planets too. Moon
magic was just as likely to find justice as logic and fairness.

And there was that temptation to use undue influence again.
Erran gritted his teeth.

***

“My lord, this is . . . unusual.” Charlotte
Guilford tugged at the bunched up folds of her gloves and glanced nervously
around the coach interior. The curtains had been drawn against the last rays of
sun. Her footman waited outside the closed door. The suave old man in his
fashionable coat on the forward-facing seat didn’t appear dangerous. She knew
him vaguely from her husband’s entertainments. She allowed her eagerness for
recognition from an aristocrat to overcome any fear and waited to hear what his
message had meant.

“Some things require confidentiality,” the earl of Lansdowne
said in the plum tones of authority. “I hear you have met with my young
cousins, the Rochesters. How did you find them?”

“Well, my lord,” she said, trying to conceal her curiosity.
“The eldest is rather plain-faced and unfashionably dark, but the others will
do respectably when they’re of an age.”

“Good, good,” he said, tapping a walking stick across his
knees. “The eldest is probably not legitimate, you realize. Your mother was
most likely still alive when she was born, as I understand it. I cannot think
it best for them to remain in society. They haven’t the funds in any account.”

Startled, Charlotte nodded, taking her time to digest this
news. “I had not realized, my lord. I’ve been told my father was a proper
gentleman . . . .”

“Well, that is all water under the bridge. I understand
they’ve had a bit of trouble. Will you be taking them under your wing?”

That
, Charlotte
didn’t need to think more about. “Good heavens, no. They’re perfectly set up as
they are, and Charles and I haven’t the wherewithal to take on any more
burdens. I had hoped my father would have left us a little something to get by
on, but there seems to be no funds left.”

“There is the unusually large lease payment for that
monstrosity of an old house,” the earl said. “It represents an outrageous sum.
My men of business could arrange to have those funds returned to the estate if
the Rochesters could be removed. Most of it would have to be kept in trust for
the young baron, of course, but I’m sure they could arrange for a living
expense to anyone looking after him.”

“Do you know the cost of raising a young man?” Charlotte
asked acerbically. “That alone takes a substantial sum. And I should imagine he
would go nowhere without his sisters. If you are asking me to take on that
chore, my answer is a firm
no
.”

“Your husband has a rural property in Yorkshire, does he
not?” Lansdowne continued, taking a different direction instead of giving up.
“It would be no great expense to set them up there, as a personal favor to me.
The eldest could go as a governess and companion, I’m certain. That’s the most
she can expect. If the younger one is well-looking, you can marry her off in a
year or so. Would a living of a hundred pounds per annum cover the burden?”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes and tried to puzzle through what
he was asking. Surely he did not think those very peculiar young people and
their servants would go anywhere they didn’t like? She had so many arguments
against such a challenge that she didn’t even know where to begin. So she stuck
with the simple.

“You honor me, my lord, but I must think of my own family
first. A hundred pounds will scarcely buy linen and put food on the table. The
boy will want education. No, my lord, I fear we simply cannot take on so large
an encumbrance. My husband works day and night as it is to keep our own
children fed and housed.”

The earl’s stick bounced a little harder. “What if I
arranged for Mr. Guilford to take a better position in the Home Office? It
would mean a substantial raise in income.”

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. An earl as
powerful as Lansdowne could arrange many, many outcomes—some of them
unpleasant. Dear Charles was barely holding onto his position as it was. One
word from an earl . . . She heard the threat, even if it wasn’t
voiced.

“I see, my lord. And why would the Rochesters wish to give
up their palatial home in favor of mine?” She knew
she
couldn’t hold out against an earl. But perhaps her
half-siblings had resources beyond hers. One could always hope.

“They need to eat, don’t they?” he asked jovially. “They
have no funds. They can’t have much more to sell off. They’ll see reason when
it comes time.”

Gloomily, Charlotte understood the truth of this. “May I
have time to discuss this with my husband? Would we have to take that horrible
darkie giant they have for a servant?”

“The servants would be returned to the estate where they
belong,” the earl said smoothly. “You may have no fear about that. Send word to
my office on Monday. I’m sure you will see the benefit of looking after your
young siblings.”

Charlotte saw only trouble and woe in her future, but she
was already calculating the benefit of her husband’s superior position with the
Home Office and realizing their rural estate in Yorkshire was a very long way
from London. If she and Charles could afford to stay in London . . .
she needn’t trouble herself much at all.

***

Lady Aster sent word that the new servants were on their
way. Jamar stationed himself at the barred back gate to let them in. Erran took
Zack into the yard to examine the possibility of inventing a better means of
notifying the household when someone wished to enter.