The Widow's Christmas Surprise

by Jenna Jaxon

  “Maria, what happened to you?” Jane’s worried face peered into hers, looking for some accident or illness.

  “I f . . . fell through the ice. On the p . . . pond.” She leaned on Jane’s shoulder and whispered, “I will be fine. Get me to my room. We must talk.”

  Maria had to give her cousin credit. If there was some sort of emergency, even if she didn’t know the particulars, Jane would rise to the occasion every time.

  “Let us through, please.” Her arm around Maria, Jane pushed through the crowd of people, all of them asking what had happened. Ignoring everyone, acting like a general with victory in sight, she escorted Maria through the gauntlet of nosy friends and relatives, reaching the front stairs without a single encounter.

  When they finally reached Maria’s room, Jane called for Hatley, who immediately stripped her mistress, popped her into bed, and sent for the bathtub and hot water with the same military efficiency Jane had showed. Lying snug between clean sheets, Maria truly appreciated such competence.

  As soon as the maid had gone to oversee the bath, Jane sat on the end of the bed, and fixed Maria with a steely eye. “What happened, Maria?”

  Tell the truth, but not the whole truth. They had agreed.

  So Maria launched into the excitements of the day, omitting only her interlude with Hugh in the dowager’s bed in Francis House. She ended with the news about the possible will and requested her counsel on the matter. “Jane, I cannot think why Mr. Clarke would not have contacted me if Alan’s will had contained a bequest to me.”

  “I cannot see any reason why he would withhold it from you either, my dear.” Tapping her lips, as was always Jane’s way of signaling she was thinking. “Although someone might well have a reason to keep it from you.”

  Panicked, Maria sprang up in the bed. “You don’t think Mr. Granger would do such a thing, do you?”

  Jane waved her worries away. “Of course not. He has nothing to gain by doing so. Quite the opposite, in fact, if you do marry. Which I gather you may now be forced to do. You’ve been in his bed, haven’t you?”

  “I have no idea what you mean.” Maria sank back down beneath the covers. Of course Jane would know. Maria’d almost never been able to conceal anything from her cousin.

  “I am quite sure you do, my dear.” Jane tossed the statement at her cousin and waited.

  Wishing she had said nothing to Jane, Maria pulled the covers over her head. “Leave me be.”

  “I am afraid that is out of the question now, my dear.” Jane peeled the blankets back from Maria’s face. “If you have taken Mr. Granger as your lover, everything has changed.”

  “Why would you think I have done such a thing when we expressly said last night that we would not do any such thing?” Lord, but she wished Jane was not staring so intently at her. Like a cat waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse who had not told the whole truth.

  “That promise was not worth the breath it took to make it.” Jane scoffed, waving the pledge off like an unwanted dish at dinner. “Kinellan may have been fooled by it—a very gullible man, I will tell you—but not I.” She peered at Maria again. “Are you denying that you have taken Mr. Granger as your lover?”

  “No.” The word was spoken very low.

  “I did not think so.”

  “But how did you know?” Maria was truly puzzled as to how Jane had found her out.

  “You look very different, my dear, than you did this morning.” Smiling, Jane touched Maria’s cheek in a caress. “Happier, more relaxed. Satisfied.”

  Maria blushed, her cheeks now the warmest they had been all day.

  “But this means our strategy must now change as well.”

  “How?”

  “For one thing, it may be better if you marry now rather than waiting. It will afford you more protection and there will be less talk if you end up increasing again.” The look Jane gave her made Maria wish to slink beneath the covers and never emerge. “As we will be journeying to London tomorrow—please remind me I must tell Kinellan this before the morning, he dislikes it so when I change his plans at the last moment—we can send Kinellan to the Archbishop of Canterbury for a special license. Then you and Mr. Granger can be married at your convenience.”

  “Something tells me that Mr. Granger is going to object to talk of the marriage before his affairs are settled with his brother.” That seemed to be a sticking point with him. She understood it, after a fashion, but could not agree to it. Not after this afternoon’s interlude.

  “He may not have a choice if his brother lingers much longer. Your safety and reputation are more important than his pride, or independence, or whatever it is that is making him so obstinate.”

  “He is a stubborn man, to be sure.”

  “Then he will need to learn to give in more graciously and more often.”

  Laughing as the door opened and the bathtub was carried in, Maria laid her hand on Jane’s. “Thank you, Cousin, for all your help and advice guiding me through widowhood twice now. You must be an expert.”

  Shaking her head, Jane rose and headed for the door. “Enjoy your bath. Relax as much as you can, because after tomorrow, you may have precious little to rejoice about.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mr. Hezekiah Clarke might not have been a nervous man by nature; however, today he seemed to be suffering from some disorder that gave him the perpetual fidgets. Maria, Jane, and Lord Kinellan sat in Mr. Clarke’s private office, an intimidating audience for a normal solicitor to be sure, but for a man whose clientele included dukes, archbishops, and members of the royal family, they should have been nothing out of the ordinary. But today, it seemed, Mr. Clarke was nervous.

  “Can you tell me, Lady Kersey, why you have finally decided to inquire about your legacy?” The little man with the round glasses glared at her, though he gripped his pen so tightly the goose quill creaked under the strain. He sat behind a large, spindly legged desk, piles of papers and files on either side of him.

  “Because until day before yesterday I had no idea my late husband had made a will leaving me anything.” They had all agreed—after Maria insisted—that Maria would speak to Mr. Clarke herself. Only if the interview seemed to be getting out of hand was Lord Kinellan supposed to step in.

  “That simply cannot be true, my lady.” Mr. Clarke shook his head vehemently. “I have sent you two letters at least since November, informing you of the will and asking you to come to London at your earliest convenience to discuss your plans for managing the properties.”

  “What properties, Mr. Clarke?” Torn between excitement and exasperation, Maria shot a look at Jane. Did she really have an inheritance? Gooseflesh rose all along her arms. “I tell you again that I have received nothing from you since your letter informing me that Lord Kersey had been located and when he would be taking possession of Kersey Hall. That was in October. There was no mention of a will.”

  “Because the will had not come to light at that time.” Pursing his lips, Mr. Clarke shook his head. “It wasn’t discovered until about the middle of November, at which time I traveled to Kersey Hall to discuss its ramifications with you and Lord Kersey.”

  “Which you certainly did not do, Mr. Clarke. I have never met with you until this morning. Do you deny that?” Wide-eyed, she again shot a glance at Jane. Had someone posed as her at that meeting?

  “No, of course not, Lady Kersey. I was informed by Lord Kersey of your continued grief and seclusion at the time. But he assured me he would inform you of the will and advise you that I would be contacting you by mail regarding its contents.” As if the idea was just dawning, Mr. Clarke leaned forward, the multitude of little lines in his face thrown into sharp relief. “Did Lord Kersey neglect to inform you of my visit?”

  “Of course he did, Mr. Clarke.” The infuriated voice of Lord Kinellan boomed in the small space. “Why on earth would he?”

  “What do you mean, my lord? Lord Kersey gave me to understand—”

  “That he would
tell the woman who stood to inherit property he himself believed to be his?” The disgust in Kinellan’s face transformed him from a handsome man to a demonic one. “Why would he tell her if he stood to lose a substantial amount by doing so?”

  “But his lordship didn’t know the contents of the will.” Mr. Clarke’s face paled as his alarm rose.

  Kinellan waved that away. “Probably didn’t matter. Either he would assume the worst, or he is petty enough to deny Lady Kersey even the meanest of bequests.” The marquess glared at the solicitor until Mr. Clarke shrank back in his chair. “You should have insisted on seeing the dowager countess, if only briefly. No one is ever too bereaved to give their solicitor five minutes of their time.”

  “But I wrote to her ladyship.”

  “Obviously intercepted by Kersey.” Jane’s vehemence seemed no less than Kinellan’s. “And if you detailed her inheritance in those letters, then Kersey knew exactly what he stood to lose.”

  “Oh, no, my lady.” The quickness of the denial indicated the measure of Mr. Clarke’s guilt. “I never quoted any specifics from the will in those letters. They merely urged a meeting to discuss the will.”

  Kinellan shrugged. “That probably alarmed Kersey enough for him to treat the matter as urgent and take action.”

  “What action could he take?” Maria’s head was in a whirl. “Mr. Granger said that just after Lord Kersey’s meeting with Mr. Clarke, I was invited to move back to the Hall. Did that have something to do with it?”

  Jane and Kinellan exchanged a candid look before Jane spoke. “Quite possibly, my dear. Your moving back to the Hall would have put you in closer proximity to Lord Wetherby.”

  “Lord Wetherby?” The afternoon was becoming more and more confusing. Jane must be wrong about this part of it. “What does he have to do with it?”

  “Kersey wanted his son to marry you, my lady.” Lord Kinellan obviously was not a man to mince words. “And when you showed no interest in him, he likely gave instructions for Wetherby to make the marriage happen any way he could.”

  With a gasp, Maria grasped her throat. “The day in the woods gathering greenery. Lord Wetherby . . .” She dropped her gaze.

  “He tried to ravish you, according to Mr. Granger.” Kinellan shook his head. “It’s a wonder Granger didn’t beat the man senseless then and there.”

  “I lied to him, my lord. I too was afraid of what Mr. Granger might do if he knew the true circumstances.” Trying to make herself small on her seat, Maria clasped her hands in her lap and stared fixedly at them. “I believed Lord Wetherby simply wanted to have his way with me. I never thought he was trying to force a marriage.”

  “Because you didn’t know you had anything of value in your possession, my dear.” Grasping her hands, Jane turned to Mr. Clarke, who’d been following the exchange with a look of shock on his pale face. “Can you please tell my cousin what her husband left her, Mr. Clarke?”

  “As I said in my letters, which I am sorry you did not receive, my lady, the bequest is substantial.” From the folder before him, Mr. Clarke withdrew several sheets of blotched foolscap—blotted and crossed out passages abounded—that had been folded and sealed, although the seal was gone. “Thanks to the canny purchases of the fifth Earl of Kersey, your late husband’s uncle, three properties were acquired during his lifetime and were therefore not part of the earldom’s entailment. In addition, that same earl was a great collector of artwork, all also not bound by the fee tail.” Mr. Clarke looked directly at Maria, who grasped Jane’s hand. “All told, my lady, with land, jewels, and artwork, I would estimate the bequest includes at least half the earldom’s assets.”

  Unable to say anything, much less move, Maria stared at Mr. Clarke, waiting for Jane or Kinellan to do something. The silence continued, however.

  “My lady?” Quickly, Mr. Clarke rose and went to the door and opened it. “Mr. Gaines, a pot of tea and four cups as quickly as you can.” He returned to his chair behind the desk. “I know this may be a shock, Lady Kersey, but the tea will be here shortly.”

  “May be a shock, Clarke?” Lord Kinellan’s voice finally rang out.

  The spell broken, Maria turned to Jane, sitting ashen beside her. “Is it really true, Jane?”

  “Oh, I assure you it is, my lady,” Mr. Clarke broke in. “I cannot give you exact figures as to the value of everything, but I daresay it is close to fifty thousand pounds.”

  Silence resumed until the clerk entered with the tea.

  Mr. Clarke hastily poured, and once Maria had sipped the brew, well sugared against the shock, the world came back into focus.

  “What must I do, Mr. Clarke? I have no idea how to go on.” She looked at him blankly.

  “Today there is little you need to do. If you wish to continue to be represented by this firm, there are several documents to sign. You will need to establish a bank account. I can make suggestions or perhaps his lordship can. Do you stay long in London?”

  She hadn’t thought about that eventuality because she’d never dreamed she would need to take care of such matters. If only Hugh were here, he would know what to do. “Lord Kinellan? What are our plans?”

  Taking out his pocket watch, the marquess glanced at it and sighed. “I had hoped we could finish this business today and leave early tomorrow. Will that be possible, Clarke?”

  “I believe we can finish by this afternoon.” He smiled at Maria and his eyes behind his spectacles gleamed. “Let us begin with a formal reading of the will, my lady.”

  * * *

  “The snow seems to be holding off.” Giving a great yawn, Maria stretched as best she could in the swaying carriage. “Do you think we will arrive at Kersey Hall before dark?”

  Because Lord Kinellan had feared bad weather, they had left London at the ungodly hour of seven o’clock. No wonder she was tired.

  Beside her, Jane too stifled a yawn. Her cousin apparently had gotten less sleep than Maria. She and Jane had shared a room last night, so it had not been hard to miss her cousin slipping out of the room when Maria had been drifting off to sleep. She’d not returned until just before the inn’s maid had arrived with warm water.

  Lord Kinellan, opposite them on the backward facing seat, seemed to be hiding a yawn as well. “I beg your pardon, Lady Kersey. What did you ask?”

  Maria had to bite back a smile. “Only if you thought we’d arrive before dark.”

  “We have had good roads with little traffic and therefore have made good time.” He peered out the window and nodded. “With a little more luck, we may arrive in time for tea.”

  “Not that I wish to take tea with any of the Kersey family.” Fuming again at the thought of Lord Kersey’s perfidy, Maria gritted her teeth and wished she could at least plant Lord Wetherby a facer. Why should men be able to have all the fun? “We shall need to stop at the inn in Sudbury to make arrangements for the night. I will not spend one more hour there than I have to.”

  “Did Lord Kersey think it strange that we were going to London?” Staring with wide-open eyes, trying to stay awake, Jane’s head drooped occasionally in a doze.

  “I didn’t tell him where I was going. I simply asked the nursemaid to bring me Jane and told Hatley to pack for two days.”

  Kinellan’s brows shot up and he grinned. “Our little Maria has learned how to stand up for herself. I like that in a woman.”

  “I don’t know how much I can stand up to anyone.” Drawing the lap blanket more snugly around her, Maria sighed. “I may have a great amount of property now, but I don’t know anything about them at all. I don’t even know where the properties are located, although I have the directions written down. Nor do I know where the art is stored.” Beseechingly, she turned to the marquess, whose head was beginning to droop as well. Certainly a marquess would know what to tell her. “What do I do, Lord Kinellan?”

  Stretching out his long legs in the cramped space, Lord Kinellan looked like nothing so much as a colt unfolding its unruly legs. “First, you must accep
t the fact that your life has been forever changed. You are an heiress, Lady Kersey, and as such you will have great freedom. The freedom to live anywhere you wish, entertain lavishly, travel on the Continent, hire the best nursemaids and governesses for your child. All of this and more is now possible and is your decision to make.”

  Unbelievable. To be able to do all of that, to decide her own course, when previously she’d been allowed to decide almost nothing, was exhilarating. She and little Jane could live a life almost without care. Her parents could have a new house, servants, her father the best care possible. “It sounds too good to be true.”

  “Well, but there is another side to such good fortune.”

  The carriage hit an icy patch and slithered to the side of the road.

  Maria grabbed the seat to keep from being pitched into Kinellan’s lap. “What do you mean?”

  The marquess shrugged and glanced at Jane, fast asleep on the seat beside her, her head propped on her hand, unaffected by the jostling of the ride. A smile tugged at his lips, a tenderness in his face she’d never seen before. He reached over and gathered her cousin in his arms, bringing her to sit alongside him, and moved her head to his shoulder. At once she nestled into him, a smile on her lips, and continued to sleep.

  “Where were we, my lady?”

  “I think perhaps we can dispense with the titles, if it is all the same to you, my lord. Please call me Maria.” She nodded to the sleeping Jane. “You are likely to be my kinsman soon in any case.”

  He peered at the sleeping woman in his arms. “That is, unfortunately, not a foregone conclusion. Your cousin is an obstinate woman, brought on, I believe in part, by the financial security of her widowhood. Her ability to do as she pleases has made her so independent she doesn’t always think of what may or may not be the best course for her.”

  “Has she refused to marry you then?”

  “She has avoided the question, I suspect, because she has a true fondness for me. Or at least I hope that is the reason.” He settled Jane more securely in his arms. “Do you still wish to marry Mr. Granger after receiving your newfound wealth? You now have the means to live the rest of your life unencumbered by a husband.”