“Oh, and I almost forgot. There is one other thing.” The solicitor pulled out an envelope and passed it to him. “The will also included this letter to be provided to you three months before your thirtieth birthday, in the event that you were unmarried.”
Nick took the envelope, his eyes resting on his grandfather’s familiar handwriting.
But no sooner had he finished reading the short note—far from processing its contents—than he heard a commotion on the other side of the door. He rose and tucked the note into his pocket, grabbing his hat on the way out the door.
Nick had expected to walk into an unpleasant scene, but he hadn’t expected Hector Dunmore to be at the center of it. He’d heard that Hector had changed solicitors after the disappearance of his brother, Alex, Viscount Camberly.
“And if I find you had anything to do with this, I will be sure you pay.” Hector marched into the solicitor’s office and leaned threateningly toward a squirming Mr. Brown, who stuttered his defense.
“Dunmore, what are you doing here? I thought your tastes in solicitors were a bit seedier than the likes of Mr. Brown,” Nick said, standing in the doorway.
Hector spun, and his head jerked up, his mouth forming a sneer. “Daventry.” He practically spit the name. “I hadn’t heard that you returned to London. I confess I’d rather hoped that you’d be like my brother and disappear for good.”
Nick quirked a brow at the man’s audacity. “Disappear for good? So then you do confess that you know he is dead? I can only assume that’s because you had a hand in it.”
Hector’s sneer twisted into a smirk. “Who, me?” he asked, all innocence and false sweetness. “I know nothing of the sort. Each day I spend hours at church praying for Alexander’s safe return. But after seven years’ absence, that does seem unlikely. I suppose that’s why the House of Lords is convening next month to officially pass the title to Alex’s heir.”
Nick cocked his head, tamping down the rage boiling up inside him. “A rather long game you’ve been playing, Dunmore. Should have just hired someone to off him and been done with it.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about. I had nothing to do with my brother’s disappearance. As you well know, several witnesses report seeing him picked up by an unmarked carriage late one night when he was coming home from a night of debauchery at…where was it again? Oh, that’s right—your house.” Hector leaned against Mr. Brown’s desk and crossed his arms over his chest.
Nick rolled his eyes. “It was hardly debauchery. We dined at the club and had a glass of port. And I think two drunken footpads don’t qualify as ‘several witnesses.’”
Hector’s smirk deepened. “Ah, you don’t like to be reminded of your part—or Jonathan’s—in his disappearance. I suppose it has been hard for you, losing your closest friends in one fell swoop.”
It was a reference to Alex and Nick’s friend Jonathan, and the scoundrel was a little too close to the truth for Nick’s comfort. Jonathan and Alex had been quarrelling that night—loudly and publicly—and Jonathan had departed in high dudgeon, while Alex and Nick retreated to Nick’s. When Alex had disappeared, Hector had painted the evening in a sordid light, and told everyone who would receive him that Jonathan had hated Alex.
And it had worked. Even Nick, who knew better, had confronted Jonathan, and a rift had formed between them as well. And Nick, used to having two close friends, found himself with neither of them. When he’d lost Mary shortly afterward, he’d been devastated. He supposed that was why he’d left England. His family was wonderful, but without his friends, he’d felt ungrounded.
He brushed Hector’s statement off. “It should have been hard for you. He was your brother, and he loved you.”
Hector scoffed. “Loved belittling me, more like. Loved pointing out the ways I was wrong and the reasons I’d never be good enough for the likes of him. How he was nobler than I because his mother’s family was better than my mother’s.”
“Ha! He was nobler than you because of his character, and he was only trying to help you learn to be a better man. As for the inheritance, that was simply a matter of birth. Clearly, no personal flaws stop a man from inheriting. If that were true, the House of Lords wouldn’t be inviting you to their meeting next month.”
Hector sucked in a breath at the insult, his nostrils flaring in outrage. “Well, and my brother’s so-called character got him nowhere except kidnapped. And I can only imagine that the kidnappers spent less than an hour in his company before deciding to do away with him and his insufferable character.”
Mr. Brown, who had been cowering behind his desk during the whole exchange, cleared his throat at this and ventured, “E-excuse me, gentlemen. I must ask you to leave. I have another client arriving shortly, and it wouldn’t do for him to hear this kind of talk.”
This only served to return Hector’s attention to the poor man. “Not so fast, I think. You haven’t given me the information I came for.”
Mr. Brown paled. “I-I haven’t got any information. When you hired your new solicitor, I ceased having anything to do with the matter.”
“What information?” Nick asked, knowing it was rude, but not caring.
Hector answered, his eyes never releasing poor Mr. Brown from their glare. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Mr. Brown used to oversee one of my…assets. It has recently gone missing, and I am attempting to enlist his help in its recovery.”
Mr. Brown’s face went red, and he looked as though he might explode. “I told you I have no information!”
Hector nodded slowly. “You’ll contact me as soon as you do.” It was more of a command than a question.
“Of course, Mr. Dunmore.”
“You don’t want to cross me on this, Mr. Brown.” Then he grinned and tossed a glance over his shoulder at Nick, before adding. “Oh, and Mr. Brown, you can call me Lord Camberly.”
It had taken Nick the rest of the day to calm himself after the confrontation with Dunmore, and then the better part of the next one to accept the contents of his grandfather’s letter. He’d thought it a cruel joke, even though that wasn’t the sort of thing his grandfather had been given to. Rather, he’d been a kind man. A warm man. Though Nick’s own father hadn’t been exactly cruel either, he had been distant, and this grandfather, his kindness had been a refuge for Nick and Terence and Emma in their childhood. The idea that this man, his hero even, was the cause of his current distress seemed unpalatable at best.
His brother was the only person who might possibly understand, though his circumstances were notably different. There had been no stipulations put upon his inheritance, nor had he been widowed, thank God for that.
Nick paused outside his brother’s London home in Berkeley Square. He’d spent time in the house himself as a boy, but after being away for so long, the enormity and formality of it still sometimes took his breath away. He glanced down at Gabriel and saw that the house had a similar effect on the boy.
He broke from his short reverie and moved up the steps. Eaves, his brother’s butler, answered. “Ah, Master Nicholas. Your brother awaits you in his study.”
Eaves had been the butler since time immemorial, and Nick was quite fond of him. He suspected the feeling was mutual, but Eaves had been so well trained that he almost never let any emotion crack through his butler facade. At least not toward adults.
“And Master Gabriel! I suspect I know someone in the nursery who will be glad to see you!”
Nick tapped Eaves on the arm by way of hello. “Thanks, Eaves. Good to see you, old chap. I’ll show myself in if you’ll help this one find his way.”
Eaves stepped aside so Nick could enter, extending a hand to Gabriel, who took it. Nick waved to his son and walked through the foyer and took the grand staircase leading up to the family rooms, knowing the boy was in good hands.
The door to his Terence’s study was open, and Nick heard his brother’s deep voice, followed by a merry laugh from his sister-in-law.
He cam
e to a stop at the entrance to the room. “Ah, Lord and Lady Weston!” he said. “What a pleasure to find you both here this morning!”
Alice squealed with delight and ran to embrace him. “Oh, Nick! How lovely to see you!”
Nick laughed. “You’ve seen me practically every day for the past month.”
Alice smiled a little sheepishly. “I know, but I still can’t get used to it. Before a month ago, it was ages since we saw you last!”
Nick was a little chagrined by her words. He’d been abroad too long and had missed many years of their lives. His nephew had been born, and also another child who had not survived more than a month. He loved his family, and he should have been there for both the joyful occasions and the tearful.
He nodded, pressing his lips together in acknowledgment. “You are right. I will endeavor to stay more at home in future.” He gave her another quick embrace, then turned to his brother. “Will you chastise me as well?”
Terence, who had not bothered to rise from his desk, leaned back against his chair and smiled. “Indeed I will. But not for having been gone so long. Lord knows your long absence was nothing if not relief for me.”
A grin broke instantly across Nick’s face, and he let out a bark of laughter. He clasped his hands to his heart and threw his head back as though he’d been shot. “Ah, you wound me, brother mine!” It felt so good to be back with the people he loved and who loved him. He dropped his pose and walked around his brother’s desk to clap him on the arm. “All that time I was abroad, I had no one to remind me what trouble I am.”
His brother grinned. “You can always count on me.”
Alice rolled her eyes and gave her husband a playful thwack on the arm. “Weston, be nice to your brother. We want him to stay, remember?”
It was still strange to hear Terence called by his honorific. To Nick, he would always be Terence. Weston was their father.
Terence pasted a look of exaggerated chagrin on his face. “Yes, dear. I’ll be good from now on.”
She rolled her eyes again, and he grinned. He gestured to one of the high-backed leather chairs in front of his desk, then turned to his wife. “Darling, won’t you join us?”
Alice shook her head. “No, Mrs. Barnes awaits. She’d like to go over the menu for the week, and other fascinating household business. I’m sure you’d love to hear all about it, but I’m in too much of a rush to share with the likes of you!” She turned to Nick. “Do stay for luncheon! Charlie will go on all day if Gabriel leaves too soon.” And with that she turned and left, on to the business of running Weston House.
Nick sank into the chair his brother had indicated, the well-worn leather a comfort on a trying day.
“What brings you to visit, my prodigal brother?”
Nick made a face at Terence’s reference, then shrugged. “I had planned more small talk, but I suppose we might as well get on with it. I believe solicitors and houses and impossible marriages are the topics for discussion for today. Oh, and treasure hunts.”
Terence’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Treasure hunts, you say?”
Nick grinned broadly, though he certainly wasn’t happy about the thought. “Oh yes. It seems our grandfather has created quite an adventure for me.”
Terence’s brow shot up at this. “I’m sorry. To which of our long-dead grandfathers are you referring?”
A bitter chuckle escaped Nick’s lips. “Yes, well, one would think that something with the finality of death would end one’s propensity for creating grand adventures. I have just discovered that this is not always so. But to answer your question, it was not the former earl. The other one.”
Terence stared at him for a beat before tilting his head. “Well, I suppose Grandfather Maple was the one more given to adventure.” He frowned. “But I’m still not sure that I see how he could have created an adventure for you ten years after his death.”
Nick waved a hand to concede the point. “Apparently, he created it before he died, but enlisted our solicitor’s help to keep it a secret these many years, only to surprise me with it this morning.”
Terence leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk. “I must say that sounds like him. But why now? And is this adventure the treasure hunt you spoke of?”
“Yes, a treasure hunt. Grandfather Maple requested that his solicitor present me with the first clue three months before I was to lose ownership of Poppledown Park.”
For a minute, Terence was rendered speechless, a fact Nick would have enjoyed under ordinary circumstances. Finally, he recovered enough to speak. “I confess I am baffled. What would make you lose Poppledown Park?”
“I’m not married, and I’m almost thirty years old.”
The color drained from Terence’s face.
Nick thought Terence looked exactly as Nick had felt when he had heard the news. He was actually relieved he didn’t have to refresh his brother’s memory. The stipulation had been barely spoken of at his grandfather’s death, because Nick was already happily married and only a few years past twenty. He watched his brother process the emotions.
“Nick,” Terence finally said, his expression full of sympathy, maybe even pity, “our grandfather loved you so dearly. This cannot have been what he meant. What he wanted.”
Nick had thought, still thought, the same, but it appeared the dear old man had not thought through all the possible eventualities. He lifted his brows to concede the point. “Perhaps not, but it’s true nonetheless.”
Terence’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “So what must you do? Have you any options?”
One side of Nick’s mouth lifted in a bitter approximation of a smile. “Well. I could marry.”
His brother’s eyes held his in light challenge. “Perhaps that’s not a terrible idea.”
Annoyance flared. Terence knew exactly why Nick wouldn’t marry. He covered his anger with a lighthearted reply. “I have no such responsibility. You already have an heir. And I’ve even provided a spare, for that matter,” he said.
Terence smiled sadly. “And two finer boys there never were. No, Nick, I don’t mean anything about the earldom. I wish that you had someone. It’s been long enough that you and Gabriel have been alone.”
Nick’s right fist curled and uncurled in his lap. He’d come here because he thought his brother would commiserate with him, but now he regretted that decision. “What in all the world could make you say those words to me? You of all people know what I have lost, that I will never find another woman like Mary. And you of all people know that I will not put my son through the hell of having a stepmother.”
Their own stepmother had been distant and cold and cruel when crossed. She’d tolerated Terence’s presence because he was a future earl, but Nick and their sister, Emma, had not been so lucky.
He closed his eyes and reigned the anger in. It would do no good to rage at his brother. “No. I will not marry. God granted me a few beautiful years of marriage, but I have no plans to try to recreate that. And no hope that I could even if I wished to do so.”
Terence swallowed. “I know what Mary was to you. But I’d hoped… Well, I’d hoped for more for you.”
Nick tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. “I have more. I have more than most men could ever dream of. I’m brother to an earl of the realm, for goodness’ sake. I have a healthy son, who I love very much, and who, I might add, does not exactly appear to be suffering for lack of a mother.” Something tugged in his heart as he said the words. “My wealth is such that the loss of Poppledown Park, though of great personal significance, will not prevent me from owning a home and living quite admirably for the rest of my years. I don’t need more. I’m fine.”
His brother wasn’t cowed. He held firm to his preposterous assertion, and his steady gaze bore into Nick’s own. “Gabriel might not appear to be suffering, but not every stepmother is like ours. Some love their stepchildren very much, and more love is certainly better than less.”
This time Nick did roll his eyes, but
Terence continued. “And regardless of how my darling nephew fares, I still have concerns for you, brother dear. You’re not the man you were when Mary lived, or even the one you were before you met her. You could do with more love in your life as well.”
Nick, pushed to his limit, made a sound that approximated a growl and scrubbed a hand across his face. He had no words.
Fortunately, Terence seemed to understand that no good would come from furthering the conversation. “All right, so apparently marriage is out of the question. So you will accept this…treasure hunt?”
Nick nodded, still feeling like a sullen boy. “I believe I have no other choice.”
“And where does the first clue send you?”
“I suppose that’s one bright spot in this affair. The solicitor has pointed me home, to Poppledown Park.”
“So you will be united with your boyhood hero! No one knew our grandfather like Mr. Robinson. Perhaps he will be able to aid you in your search, should the need arise.”
“It will be nice to see him. It will be nice to be home—if only for a bit.”
Terence’s expression resumed a little of the earlier grimness His eyes were a bit too piercing for Nick’s tastes when he said, “Regardless of the name of the domicile, a home is made by the people who live there. You may choose not to marry. And that is fine. As long as you don’t neglect to make a home for your son. And for you.”
Ruddy elder brothers.
Chapter 7
Susannah’s bones creaked with weariness. It had been so long since she’d traveled, she’d forgotten what two and a half long days of bumping over cobblestones, or worse, would do to a body. Amy dozed against the side of the carriage across from her, and Susannah was grateful they were the only occupants. Most of their journey had been crowded and cramped with other people, but when they’d reached Axminster, they’d hired a post chaise so they could finish their journey in privacy. Susannah had abandoned her servant’s garb in favor or her usual clothing. She was already taking the risk that this vicar wouldn’t allow a woman to stay at his cottage. It was even more unlikely that he would allow a lowly servant to do so.
Legacy Redeemed (Redeemed, Restored, Reclaimed Book 1) Page 5