The Inheritance

by Joan Johnston

  “I’m glad for you, Colin,” she said. “I thought the earl was being unreasonable.”

  “Thanks, Daisy. Can I go and see her now, Pa?”

  “Awfully impatient, aren’t you, Colin?”

  “I promised Lady Roanna I’d go riding with her today.” He gave his father a cheeky smile. “We were going to meet in secret, but now that won’t be necessary.”

  Nicholas felt his heart give a warning thump. “Be careful, Colin. The earl said you could visit his daughter. He doesn’t intend for the relationship to go any further than that. Do you understand?”

  A surprisingly stubborn look crossed Colin’s face and disappeared just as quickly.

  “Don’t lose your heart to an English girl,” Nicholas warned. “Otherwise, you’re going to miss it when we head back home in the spring.”

  “Don’t worry, Pa,” Colin said. “I know what I’m doing.”

  He was gone an instant later, leaving Nicholas and Daisy alone once more.

  “That sounds like a situation fraught with pitfalls for your son,” Daisy said.

  “Don’t worry. If Colin starts to lose his head over the girl, I’ll set him straight.”

  “What fatherly advice will you give him?” Daisy was chilled by the coldness in Nicholas’s eyes when he turned them on her.

  “I’ll tell him what I’ve learned over the past twenty-seven years. Never trust a woman. She’ll betray you. Never let yourself love one. They’re not worth the heartache.”

  “That’s awful!” Daisy said. “You can’t tell an impressionable young man something like that.”

  “Watch me,” Nicholas said. “Now, if we’ve finished our business, I want to check on Hepplewhite.”

  Nicholas was gone from the library a moment later, leaving Daisy behind with a great deal of food for thought.

  9

  “I had forgotten how wet England can be,” the duke said on the fifth morning he awoke to find the skies gray and a steady rain falling.

  “Quite so, Your Grace,” Porter said as he moved about the room opening curtains, setting out shaving materials, and retrieving one of the newly tailored frock coats made for the duke over the past week.

  “I suppose I’ve been spoiled living in Texas. When it rains, it pours, but then it’s dry again. This weather is a little daunting. Especially since it’s kept me from business all week. The duchess and I have made plans every day to visit the tenants, only to have them scrubbed by rain.”

  “Quite so, Your Grace.”

  Nicholas was restless. He didn’t like being confined by the weather. Of course, he and Daisy could have done their visiting in a carriage, rather than on horseback, but they would have ended up soaked simply getting in and out at each stop. It had seemed a better idea to wait for the rain to break. Nicholas had never imagined it would rain for five days without respite. When it finally stopped it was going to take another day or so for the mud to dry enough to make travel possible with any kind of ease.

  However, he had accomplished a great deal over the past five days from behind the desk in his library.

  First, he had summoned Mr. Poole and informed him that there were to be no more mantraps on Severn land. He thought the man looked relieved as he agreed to retrieve and dismantle the traps that had been set.

  “What do you want done with poachers, Your Grace?” Mr. Poole asked. “Once the mantraps are gone, they’ll be all over the place.”

  “Ignore them.”

  Mr. Poole’s jaw gaped. “But, Your Grace—”

  The duke cut him off. “Any man who takes game to feed his family is welcome to it. Make it clear, Mr. Poole, that anyone who abuses the privilege will be treated as a thief and sent before the magistrate.”

  “Very well, Your Grace.”

  He called in the bailiff, Mr. Henderson, and asked for his evaluation of the new farming methods Daisy had instituted the previous year. Nicholas could tell right away from the things Henderson said that Daisy had met formidable opposition from the man at first. What he found amazing was that she had somehow manipulated the bailiff into doing what she wanted and then made a convert of him.

  “I’m not saying Her Grace was right, and I’m not saying she was wrong in what she did,” Henderson said. “But we got the plowing and planting done in a whisker, and the winnowing and harrowing was fast as a snap. The harvest, well, who could have known it would rain? There’s good and bad luck, and no one can count on it.”

  Nicholas had discussed with Henderson his plan to have the tenants plant new crops and saw immediately that the bailiff was as resistant to his “newfangled ideas” as he had been to Daisy’s.

  “I’m not saying I don’t agree with Your Grace,” Henderson said. “But I’m not sure but what the tenants won’t revolt.”

  “Perhaps I should call a meeting and explain the matter to them,” Nicholas suggested.

  Henderson shook his head. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but that would be a waste of time.”

  “Oh?”

  “You see, everyone knows you’re only making changes so as to make Severn more profitable so you can sell it, Your Grace.” He shrugged. “Which of your tenants is going to want to make it easier for you to put them off land their families have farmed for generations?”

  “I see what you mean, Henderson. Well, what would convince them to make the changes I want?”

  “If Your Grace was to make some promise not to sell—”

  “I can’t do that. Because I do plan to sell.” His eyes had narrowed and his mouth flattened. “I see I have no choice but to issue an ultimatum,” he said. “Make it clear to the tenants, Henderson, that anyone who won’t do as I say will be immediately evicted. Is that clear?”

  Nicholas saw the fear in Henderson’s eyes and the resentment. But the bailiff answered, “Perfectly clear, Your Grace.”

  Nicholas was confronted by Daisy later the same afternoon.

  “You’re a fool, Your Grace,” she said.

  Naturally, he had taken offense. “Pardon me, ma’am. I believe I misunderstood you.”

  “You heard me,” she snapped. “How do you expect to get the tenants to cooperate when you threaten them with eviction? I never heard of anything so stupid in my life.”

  “Stupid?” A slow flush was crawling up his throat.

  “If it’s not stupidity, it must be ignorance,” Daisy said, her hands perched on her hips.

  “Ignorance,” Nicholas repeated in a deadly voice. The blood had reached all the way to the tips of his ears. If Daisy had been watching for signs of a volcano about to erupt, she would have seen them on his face.

  “Any idiot can see it’s going to take some diplomacy to accomplish your goals.” Daisy pursed her lips ruefully. “I suppose that’s why you’re marrying me.”

  “You can solve the problem, ma’am?”

  “It will be more difficult now that you’ve stirred things up,” Daisy said. “But I’ll manage somehow, I suppose.”

  “Manage.” He was strangling on bile. And she apparently hadn’t the least idea he was upset. She was too busy pacing the library, throwing her hands around in agitated gestures to punctuate her thoughts.

  “I’ll have to find a subtle way to rescind your ultimatum. It can be done when we make our visit to the tenants. If this damnable rain would only stop!”

  She was staring out the library window, so she didn’t see his mouth drop at her announcement that she was going to undo what he had done.

  “Daisy,” he said to get her attention.

  She turned abruptly to face him. “Did you have something to say, Your Grace?”

  He could see why Henderson hadn’t had a chance. Daisy looked perfectly innocent, as if she had no inkling of the enormity of her transgressions against him. He wanted to believe that he had done the right thing in giving the tenants an ultimatum and to fight for his point of view. But he remembered Phipps warning him that he wouldn’t get far without Daisy’s help. And if Daisy believed he had trod
seriously amiss, and obviously she did, then it might behoove him to keep his mouth shut right now.

  “You look beautiful today,” he said.

  Daisy was caught completely off guard by his compliment. Her lids dropped to hide her startled eyes, and her hands twisted into nervous knots. “Uh … thank you,” she mumbled.

  Nicholas was pleased to be the one in control once more. “Come here, Daisy,” he said in a husky voice.

  “I have to go now, Your Grace.” She fled the library like a scalded cat.

  Nicholas had the satisfaction of knowing he still had the upper hand in at least one area. He conceded the rest to Daisy. At least for the moment.

  On the second rainy day he summoned a bootmaker from the town of Bagshot, who had a reputation for being clever with his hands.

  “I want you to make a boot for me,” Nicholas began.

  “Anything in particular you would like, Your Grace?” the bootmaker asked.

  “Yes, there is.” The doctor had been forced to amputate Hepplewhite’s right foot. Nicholas proceeded to explain his idea for a boot that would fit Hepplewhite’s stump and allow the boy to walk again. “Could you make something like that?”

  The bootmaker stroked his bearded chin. “I might, Your Grace. Could I see the boy? I’d like to do some measurements on the remaining foot.”

  Nicholas had accompanied the bootmaker to Hepplewhite’s room and then had to leave when he saw the tears in Hepplewhite’s eyes as the boy realized that what he hadn’t believed possible might be possible after all. He would walk again.

  Nicholas had spent the third day searching the library for papers anyone might have left that would give a clue to his true parentage. He searched through Lord Philip’s papers, which the solicitor had given him, but found nothing that remotely resembled a journal. Lord Philip’s fears and suppositions about his wife had died along with him.

  He also spoke with his aunt and got a copy of the list of visitors to the parish she had prepared at the reverend’s behest. He tried questioning her further, but she became so anxious and uncomfortable that he gave up the effort.

  It had occurred to him that, as his mother’s sister, Lady Celeste might be privy to the information he sought. It was equally apparent that if his aunt knew anything, she had kept the secret for nearly thirty years. And she certainly hadn’t volunteered any information to him when he had turned up as the newest Duke of Severn. Unless he was willing to use coercion, it was doubtful she would speak. He simply couldn’t see himself browbeating an old, grayhaired lady for information. He would have to find out the truth some other way.

  He had spent yesterday with Daisy in the attic. She had come to him and suggested he might find something there that would give him a lead in his search for the truth. He had been doubtful, but the memory of all those rainy days spent in the crowded, musty-smelling place as a boy had prompted him to agree.

  “You seem to know your way around here pretty well,” Nicholas said as Daisy threaded through trunks and stored furniture and rugs to reach a remote part of the attic.

  “I’ve been up here before, Your Grace,” Daisy confessed. She reached an open area near a small attic window that let in light. She reached over to unlatch it, and the wind and a mist of rain poured in, as well. “I don’t think we’ll get too wet,” she said. “And the air smells wonderful when it rains, don’t you think?”

  Nicholas took a deep breath and had to agree. There was a fecund smell that reminded him of the deep forest, of wet leaves and moss and grass.

  “Come over here, Your Grace, and make yourself comfortable.”

  Nicholas was surprised when Daisy settled on the bare wooden floor, but he sat down cross-legged beside her. He wondered what everyone would think if they could see the Duke and Dowager Duchess of Severn now. The humor of the situation made him smile.

  Next to him stood a wooden rocking horse that he and his cousins had ridden. Its mane of red yarn had thinned from being yanked on and the black painted saddle and bridle had all but disappeared. He remembered laughter and fights over whose turn it was to ride next.

  “I feel like a child again when I’m up here,” Daisy said in a soft voice.

  Nicholas reached out and smoothed the wood on the rocking horse. “I must have a hundred memories of rainy days spent in this attic.”

  “There’s something here I wanted you to see.” Daisy handed Nicholas a small leather book with a brass clasp.

  “What’s this?”

  “Tony’s diary,” she said. “I thought you might like to read it.”

  “Is there anything—”

  She shook her head. “Nothing about your mother. But there are some anecdotes, memories of his childhood, that you might enjoy.”

  “Thank you,” Nicholas said.

  They went through several of the toy boxes, and Nicholas found a whole army of lead soldiers. He showed off a top he found by spinning it for Daisy.

  It had been a long time, Nicholas mused, since he had laughed so much, or had so much fun with a woman when he wasn’t in bed. Daisy was the one who put an end to their idyll. But it was his fault, because he hadn’t been able to resist reaching out to touch her face when she laughed.

  There had been a moment when he thought she might remain still for his caress and the kiss that was not far behind it. But she stood abruptly and said in a stilted voice, “I have to discuss some matters with Mrs. Motherwell. You know where everything is now.”

  Then she was gone.

  He hadn’t stayed much longer. The memories tore at him, making him ache with longing for the past. Life had been good here.

  And could be good here again.

  He knew then why Daisy had brought him to the attic. But it wasn’t going to work. He put away the toys and with them the nostalgia that had made him consider, even for a moment, staying in England, at Severn.

  That was yesterday. Nicholas wasn’t sure how many more days of being pent up in this house, with all the memories that clambered for recognition, he could take.

  “Do you think the rain will stop today, Porter?” Nicholas asked for the fifth time in five days.

  “There’s no way to tell, Your Grace,” Porter replied.

  After a knock on the door, Colin entered Nicholas’s bedroom. “Do you want to brave the rain and take a ride with me?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re headed for Rockland Park in this weather,” Nicholas said.

  Colin grinned. “Actually, I am. Lady Roanna has house guests and sent a note asking me to come and help entertain them.”

  “Oh? Who’s visiting?”

  “Friends from London,” Colin said. “Her uncle, Lord Willowbrook and his wife, and some cousins.”

  Nicholas tensed. Lord Willowbrook was one of the London set who had been visiting in the neighborhood, a guest of the Warennes, at the time the accusations had been made against his mother.

  “Maybe I will go with you.”

  “Your Grace—”

  He grinned at his dismayed valet. “I’ll try not to ruin my new boots, Porter.”

  “Quite so, Your Grace,” Porter said in resignation.

  “I want to check on Hepplewhite before we go,” Nicholas told his son.

  “I’ve already been by his room,” Colin said. In fact, he and Douglas Hepplewhite were in a fair way to becoming fast friends.

  “How is he?” Nicholas asked.

  “As you might expect. Depressed about the loss of his foot, but grateful for the chance to be able to support his family without stealing.”

  Nicholas found Douglas sitting up in bed, staring out at the rain. “Good morning, Douglas. How are you feeling today?”

  “Better, Your Grace. Ready to be up and about.” He bit his lip as he stared at the leg that ended at the ankle. “Not that I’ll be much use to anybody for a long while to come.”

  “We’ll have you up on crutches in no time,” Nicholas said. “And you’ll be amazed how well you can get around once the bootmaker deliv
ers your special shoe.”

  Douglas wasn’t as optimistic. “If you say so, Your Grace.” He stared back out the window.

  Nicholas put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Douglas. Things will turn out fine.”

  The boy didn’t answer, but Nicholas didn’t expect him to. He joined Colin in the hall and followed him down the stairs. Both men settled capes around their shoulders and tugged down their hats before venturing into the pouring rain.

  “He’s worried that his girl won’t want him anymore,”Colin confided as they crossed the threshold and headed for the stables.

  “Does she know what happened to him?”

  “She does. Nora says she won’t come to see him so long at he’s at Severn. She says it’s because she wouldn’t be comfortable in such a grand house, but Douglas thinks it’s because she doesn’t want anything to do with a cripple.”

  Nicholas sneered. “That sounds like a woman, all right. Long on promises, short on loyalty.”

  “You’re too cynical, Pa,” Colin chided. “It’s entirely possible Nora is afraid of coming to the house. You haven’t heard the stories being told about the barbarian from America.” He wiggled his eyebrows melodramatically.

  Nicholas raised a single brow in a devilish arch that only proved his son’s point. “Am I that frightening, then?”

  “To most of the people hereabouts,” Colin confirmed with a grin. “They don’t know what to make of you. They’re afraid you’ll follow through on your threat to sell, and that has them worried. And they’ve heard a lot of exaggerated stories about the number of men you’ve killed. They’re wondering whether you’re a madman or simply prone to violence. In any case, they prefer to keep their distance.”

  “And what do they think about you?” Nicholas asked.

  Colin shrugged. “I haven’t much to do with deciding their futures.”

  “Whereas I do?”

  “You haven’t asked for my opinion, Pa, but I’ll give it to you anyway. I’ve seen the way you look at this place, even when it’s raining. You love it, Pa. It’s there in your eyes. I don’t understand why you insist on selling Severn. But I have to confess, I wouldn’t be happy living here. I would miss Simp, and the ranch, and good old Texas sunshine too much.”