‘You won’t win,’ said another boy. ‘I’m older and bigger than you.’
‘No you’re not!’
Another dispute threatened, but was quelled by Ariana as she told the children to wish their parents a good afternoon, ushering them towards the door with the promise of a story. Leona noticed that she looked back over her shoulder directly at Lord Amos as she quit the room, causing her to wonder if she and that gentleman had come to some sort of understanding. Either way, it was none of her business.
‘Peace at last,’ the duke said, dropping into a chair across from the duchess and wiping imaginary perspiration from his brow. His dogs fell panting at his feet.
‘My husband tries to pretend that he doesn’t enjoy revisiting his own childhood with his sons, but his protests don’t deceive any of us.’
The duke’s brothers took chairs as well and Leona felt a little daunted by their collective presence. They made a formidable and intelligent pack, and she knew that none of them would be deceived by half-truths. Not that she intended to be evasive. They couldn’t help her unless they knew the full story. She had hoped to be able to explain herself to the duchess alone, but it was evident from their politely expectant expressions that everyone in the room was curious to know what had brought her to Winchester in such foul weather.
There was a temporary respite when tea was served and the duchess poured for them all. Cups were handed round, along with plates of delicate sandwiches and pastries. They spoke of inconsequential things while they ate and drank, and Leona was struck by the close and easy familiarity that existed in this family. As an only child, she had never experienced sibling affection. Besides, all the large families she had known tended to dislike and resent one another. Her father had wanted a son, and it had sometimes felt as though he blamed Leona for the accident of her sex.
Once the tea things had been cleared away, Leona knew that she couldn’t delay the moment any further.
‘I dare say you are wondering what brought me to the district with a brute of a man running after me issuing threats, your grace.’
‘You clearly have problems regarding your late husband’s affairs,’ the duke replied, ‘and we are ready to help in any way we can, but if you would prefer not to explain yourself to such a large audience, I feel sure that Frankie will be happy to speak with you alone.’
‘Absolutely.’ The duchess sent her a reassuring smile. ‘Marlowe was your father’s choice of a husband, I take it. I remember him from my days in that world. He was a rising star, handsome and well thought of in all the right circles, and I believe he was granted a peerage in return for services rendered to the crown.’
‘You are right in all respects.’ Leona folded her hands in her lap and straightened her shoulders. ‘I don’t mind you all hearing about my problems.’ She swallowed, searching for the right words. ‘Anyway, as you say, your grace—’
‘Frankie, please. We are old friends and none of us here stand on ceremony.’
‘Thank you…Frankie.’ Leona closed her eyes for an expressive moment, composing her thoughts. ‘George and I married four years ago, when I was twenty. His services as a diplomat were still much in demand, and he was always travelling off somewhere or other to carry out his duties.’
Frankie smiled. ‘You will be sure of an understanding audience if you talk to Zach’s sister Anna about that. She is Lady Romsey and her husband is—’
‘Lord Romsey. A very important person in the diplomatic service. Yes, we have met once or twice. He was always most apologetic when George couldn’t be done without just one more time—’
‘Ha!’ The duke grunted. ‘That sounds familiar.’
‘George’s services were required in France a little over a year ago. To this day, I don’t know what he was doing there, but I do know that whatever it was cost him his life.’
A penetrating silence greeted that admission.
‘Very distressing,’ the duke said for them all.
‘Lord Romsey couldn’t tell me anything much, other than to assure me that George’s body would be repatriated so that he could have a Christian burial here in England, and he kept his word in that regard.’
‘Where is your home, Leona?’ Frankie asked. ‘I wrote to you at the time in London at the address that Clarence gave me, but do you also have a country estate?’
‘Not here in England,’ she replied. ‘London is my permanent residence.’ She paused. ‘Or was, but I have been forced from it.’
‘By whom?’ Lady Vincent asked.
‘Yaris, George’s cousin on his mother’s side,’ she said bitterly. ‘He has claimed that the property is now his, and has moved his mother in.’
The ladies gasped and expressed their anger and sympathy. The gentlemen, Leona noticed, exchanged perplexed looks.
‘Your husband had no siblings?’ the duke asked.
‘No, he did not, and Yaris is his only living male relative, so he assumes that he is entitled to inherit.’
‘But all diplomats are required to put their affairs in order before entering into the service,’ Frankie said, frowning. ‘Or at least they were in my first husband’s day, and I assume that rule has not changed. So your husband must have left a valid will.’
‘That’s just the thing,’ Leona said, spreading her hands. ‘None can be found. Naturally, I have spoken with George’s lawyers—’
‘You said earlier that his cousin was a solicitor himself. Did he not act for him?’ Lord Amos asked.
‘No. They were not on good terms. George considered Yaris a lazy, pompous, self-opinionated scoundrel and avoided his society. Yaris’s mother was constantly at our door, attempting to guilt George into generosity since they were not well situated themselves. I know that George did help her from time to time, but they clearly do not understand the meaning of gratitude since Yaris has pressed on with this bogus claim. Being a member of the legal profession probably gave him the idea.’ She sighed. ‘My difficulty is that I cannot actually prove that their claim is bogus, even though I know George made a will and lodged it with his solicitors. They know that he did too, but they are unable to locate it.’
‘How can that be?’ the duke asked. ‘Has there been a break-in, or a fire in which it could have been destroyed? If not, surely a year is long enough for it to have been found.’
‘I rather think that Yaris arranged for it to be appropriated,’ Leona said. ‘He is not a terribly successful solicitor but probably has the sort of contacts who could make the document disappear without trace. One of his less salubrious clients would know how to break in without making it obvious. He tends to take on working class miscreants, you see, well-versed in such activities.’
‘If Yaris has moved himself and his mother into your house,’ the duke said after a short pause, ‘why was that oaf chasing after you and making more demands?’
‘They have the house, but no funds to run it. I have control over George’s investments and bank accounts. My lawyer made sure that Yaris isn’t given access to them without a valid will, and even he won’t go so far as to forge one.’ She shook her head. ‘He hasn’t done so yet at any rate.’
‘How long have you been living with these cuckoos in your nest?’ Sara asked with a sympathetic smile.
‘Only a few weeks, but I couldn’t stand it any longer and so…well, Frankie, I feel terribly guilty coming here, but I couldn’t think of anyone else who might be able to help me. My solicitors have run out of ideas and I cannot—will not—live beneath the same roof as that woman and have her lording it over me. Besides…well, it isn’t too dramatic to say that I began to fear for my life.’
‘You think that Yaris would do you physical harm?’ the duke asked, raising a brow.
‘Not of his own volition, but I wouldn’t put anything past his mother. She is a disappointed and bitter woman, and very forceful. George said he was terrified of her in his youth. There was some sort of dispute between her and George’s father. I have never known the particulars
and I don’t think George did either. He claimed not to, in any event, whenever I asked him about it. Mrs Yaris and her son were not welcome in our house when George was alive, but they swooped upon me after his death, presumably thinking that I would be easy to manipulate.’
‘Relatives,’ Lady Vincent said, rolling her eyes.
‘Quite. I was polite because I was distracted by my loss and because I had no quarrel with them. I didn’t imagine there would be any difficulties over George’s estate, and even when Yaris started making his claims, it didn’t occur to me that they would try to take over my house. Mrs Yaris visited when I was away for a few days, telling me when I returned and they had already installed themselves that they had come to stay for a while to clear the air between us.’ Leona tapped her fingers against her knee and glanced away, thinking how pathetic she must appear. ‘I should have physically evicted them there and then. I know it now, but it didn’t occur to me that she would try anything quite so brazen as to claim ownership. By the time I realised my error it was too late to change things.’
‘You could not have simply insisted that they leave your house?’ Sara asked.
‘I tried that, but Mrs Yaris merely glowered at me with so much cold, unmitigated hatred in her expression that it made me recoil. She has so much pent-up anger.’ Leona shook her head. ‘I have never known anyone quite so capable of bearing grudges. Anyway, she told me it was her house, that she had been grievously misused in her youth and that the time had come to redress the balance. She said her son had already lodged the necessary claim over George’s estate and that I should be grateful that she didn’t evict me.’ Leona felt the now familiar rage as she recalled the woman’s spiteful, calculating and vitriolic manner. ‘I saved her the trouble by removing myself and any possibility of her access to my husband’s finances, which was the only real reason why she tolerated my presence.’
‘You have had a terrible time of it,’ Frankie said, patting her hand. ‘But you are safe here and we shall help you to obtain justice. Gerald’s brother tried to manipulate me not long after I was widowed, so I do understand what you are having to endure.’
‘Did your lawyers advise you to leave?’ Sara asked, frowning. ‘I would imagine your doing so implies that you have voluntarily ceded possession of your property to your husband’s aunt.’
‘You’re right. They strongly recommended that I stay in residence and I intended to do exactly that. Then I overheard Mrs Yaris berating her son for not getting the wheels of the legal system turning faster. She told him that they needed access to George’s money and that if they didn’t get it soon then he would have to take more drastic action. Yaris put up mild objections but his mother shouted at him to find an old will in his favour.’
‘You got the impression, I take it,’ the duke said, ‘that the woman had tried to get her son to forge a will before, and that he had declined.’
Leona nodded. ‘Yes, that’s precisely what I assumed, and it would have taken a lot of courage for him to stand up to his mother. He said it was too risky, that a forgery should have been produced as soon as George died, and that if it had been no questions would have been asked. But if a man in his line of work was to be caught doing such a thing, he knows he could face public disgrace and the loss of his liberty, perhaps even his life. The magistrates would take a very dim view of such an abuse of power. Yaris might be afraid of his mother, but he is far from stupid.’
‘I wonder why a forgery was not produced immediately,’ Lord Vincent mused.
‘As do I,’ Leona replied. ‘It’s a question I have spent a lot of hours pondering upon, as I’m sure you can imagine. I have concluded it’s because news of George’s death wasn’t made public until sometime after his life ended, as is often the case with deaths abroad—especially if the deceased was conducting delicate negotiations on behalf of the government. Yaris would not have expected him to die so young, and he had not—or more to the point his mother had not—prepared her ground properly.’
‘Did you consult your husband’s lawyers as soon as you learned of his death?’ the duke asked.
Leona shook her head. ‘It seemed…well, unseemly, at least until after his funeral. Besides, I was in shock and I wasn’t thinking coherently. And there was really no need, or so I thought. George often left me alone when he was abroad for long periods. I had full access to our funds in order to keep the household running smoothly, and I didn’t imagine anyone would make a claim on his estate.’
‘Which gave Yaris an opportunity to destroy your husband’s valid will somehow,’ the duke said, rubbing his chin as he thought the matter through. ‘But he drew the line at forging an alternative.’
‘That seems to be the most logical explanation.’ Leona sighed. ‘I suppose I should be grateful that Yaris is not as brazen or as criminally inclined as his mother. I contested their claim and no will has been found, so Yaris pointed out to his mother that it would be highly suspicious if one came to light now.’
‘He’s right about that,’ Lord Amos said.
‘Mrs Yaris then told her son in the coldest, most detached voice that I have ever heard that if he was afraid to stake an official claim then possession would have to be taken by a more direct means.’
‘She meant that you should die too,’ Frankie said, shuddering.
‘That was my assumption, and the reason I left. No house is worth dying for.’
‘Then I am doubly glad that you came to us,’ Frankie replied, squeezing Leona’s hand. ‘Your horrible relatives will think twice when they realise that they are up against the Duke of Winchester.’
Tears of gratitude swamped Leona’s eyes. ‘You are very kind, but I am a virtual stranger. I don’t live in the area and have no right to inflict myself and my problems upon you. I simply intended to try and see the duke, ask for his advice and then be on my way again. I should have exercised patience. Everyone said bad weather was inevitable, but I was too frightened about Mrs Yaris’s intentions to remain in London for a day longer. Convincing accidents are easier to contrive in bad weather.’
The duke shared an intimate look with his wife and then smiled at Leona. ‘My cousin Max, Sara’s husband, is a solicitor here in Shawford. I feel perfectly sure that he will be able to help you get to the bottom of things, and you are welcome to stay here with us until matters are fully resolved.’
‘Thank you so very much.’ The tears Leona had been holding at bay spilled down her cheeks. She suspected that the duke had far more important things to concern himself with than her domestic affairs, but she knew that he had offered to help her because Frankie wanted him to, and that was what had caused the tears. To be loved so comprehensively seemed so unattainable, and Leona envied Frankie her good fortune. ‘You cannot know how alone I have felt. It’s bad enough dealing with a bereavement without grasping relatives attempting to take what is not theirs.’
‘You mentioned that your only residence in this country is in London, Lady Marlowe,’ Lord Vincent remarked. ‘You have land elsewhere?’
‘Yes actually, in Ireland, which is where I intended to go if I couldn’t resolve matters here. At least no one will question my right to be there.’
Chapter Three
‘It’s nothing but a bit of a storm, Tyler. Stop complaining.’ Doran Conroy guided his pair cautiously through the thickening blizzard and simultaneously berated his man. Doran was an easy-going fellow who took life as it came and made the best of things. ‘It’s nothing compared to the weather we endure in Ireland.’
‘We know where we’re going in Ireland,’ Tyler pointed out with some justification, pulling his hat lower and sinking his chin beneath his collar. ‘Whereas here we appear to be lost. Everything looks the same in this damned snow.’
Doran laughed. Half frozen to death, his spirits revived when he saw a tavern up ahead and directed his team into the mews adjacent to it.
‘Come along, Tyler. Let’s wet our whistles and find out where exactly we are.’
&nbs
p; ‘Ah, so you are lost. I knew it. You’re just too pig-headed to admit it.’ Tyler jumped down and almost lost his footing on the slippery yard. He swore as he windmilled his arms. Doran caught him and kept him upright, still laughing.
‘This, if I am not mistaken, is Shawford. The Crown and Anchor, to be exact, and I’m willing to wager that there will be a warm fire and a warmer welcome awaiting us in the taproom.’
Doran stamped the snow from his boots, rubbed his hands together and entered the mercifully warm tavern. The taproom was full to near capacity with labourers kept from their work but not from the tavern by the conditions. Conversations stopped and heads turned in their direction as Doran entered the room.
‘God bless all here,’ he said in his customary hospitable manner.
A few responded with grunts and nods before losing interest in him and going back to their disputes, their games of dice and their drinking.
‘Two tankards, if you please,’ Doran said, raising his voice above the hubbub and immediately attracting the attention of a barmaid who gave his person a quick once over before sending him a mischievous smile.
‘Where might you two gentlemen be bound in these conditions?’ the landlord asked. ‘It’s foul weather for travelling.’
‘Try telling him that.’ Tyler jerked a thumb at Doran, not being the type of servant to remember his place. He tended to speak his mind but despite his complaints about the weather, he was loyal to a fault, resourceful, tough and enterprising.
‘We’re for Stoneleigh Manor,’ Doran replied, taking a healthy sup of his ale and wiping the foam from his upper lip. ‘Are we far from it?’
‘Not far, no, but you won’t get there today,’ the landlord replied. ‘That’s why this lot are in here,’ he added, waving his arm in the general direction of his packed taproom. The ale had thawed out bodies and loosened tongues. Familiarity, raucous laughter and coarse language made for a congenial atmosphere. ‘Well, that’s their excuse anyway. There’s an overturned carriage on the road between here and Compton, which is the direct way to Lord Vincent’s abode, and it’s completely blocked the road. You just missed Lord Vincent actually. He was in here not an hour ago with the duke and Lord Amos. They will have gone back to Winchester Park, I shouldn’t wonder, and you can just about get there if you take the road across the common. Your horses will keep a better footing on such a well-worn track, even in this weather.’
On the Duke's Authority (Ducal Encounters series 4 Book 3) Page 3