‘You must have Irish ancestry to feel so naturally attuned to the place,’ Mr Conroy replied. Leona was distracted by the mischievous sparkle in his compelling green eyes. She knew he took this situation as seriously as she herself did, but he couldn’t seem to suppress the laissez-faire approach to life that she had noticed in so many of his countrymen during her visits to Ireland. They were warm and welcoming, despite the poverty inherent amongst the lower classes. They had never met a stranger but were naturally hospitable.
‘There is a large forested area, old as the hills themselves, that spreads across both estates, and the boundary lines are…let’s just say they are indistinct.’
‘Surely any dispute can be resolved by reference to the Irish Registry of Deeds,’ Max said, taking a sip of his drink. ‘It’s there for that precise purpose.’
‘Ah well now, so it is,’ Mr Conroy said, frowning. ‘But like most things Irish, it’s not that straightforward. My grandfather was a forward-thinking fellow. He saw a potential for all those oaks once they matured, and a need for timber for boats, houses and so on. With the wellbeing of future generations in mind, he purchased part of that forest from your husband’s father, Lady Marlowe.’
The duke groaned. ‘You’re going to tell me that they shook hands on the deal and didn’t bother with fences or with recording the sale on the deeds, aren’t you?’ he said.
‘A note was lodged with my grandfather’s solicitors, but the details are not precise. It wouldn’t ordinarily matter,’ Mr Conroy added. ‘We’re talking about just a few acres, and as you say, your grace, we Irish tend to do these things on trust. But vitally, the disputed area covers an all-important right of way that has been in use for decades. It is the only access between the forest and the road, and its use by workers on both estates has never been disputed. Without it, I can’t economically fell my timber and get it loaded onto ships. There is simply no other way.’
‘That sounds like just the sort of situation Mrs Yaris would attempt to exploit,’ Leona said, biting her lower lip and scowling. ‘You can be sure that she will have familiarised herself with every aspect of my late husband’s property. She probably visited Ireland, discovered the issue of the easement for herself and stored that knowledge away for future reference.’ Leona’s frown intensified as she reasoned the matter through. ‘But she couldn’t have known that you would take it into your head to try and sell your timber, Mr Conroy. That is a stroke of luck on her part.’
‘I wonder how she found out,’ Lord Amos mused.
‘She probably paid someone locally to keep her informed,’ Lord Vincent replied. ‘There is a lot of poverty in Ireland and those with empty bellies won’t see anything wrong with passing on local gossip if it provides them with the means to feed their families.’
‘Your husband, Lady Marlowe, if he registered his deed of ownership correctly in Ireland, will have named you as his beneficiary,’ Max said with an elegant flip of one wrist. ‘That is something that Yaris would not have been able to interfere with.’
Leona’s eyes widened. ‘Could it be as simple as that?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘In terms of his Irish interests, certainly. But it doesn’t necessarily follow that the registry holds a full copy of his will relating to his English estate. In fact, it very likely does not. The two countries operate independently of one another. Ireland has no jurisdiction over estates in this country and vice versa.’
‘In that case,’ Frankie said, ‘why is Yaris attempting to interfere with your Irish estate, Leona? He must be a sorry excuse for a solicitor if he didn’t realise what immediately became apparent to you, Max.’
‘I can think of an answer to that one,’ Mr Conroy replied, easing his long, rangy body into a more comfortable position. His lithe, elegant movements caught Leona’s attention for reasons that were not entirely obvious to her. He was not the first engaging gentleman she had encountered since becoming a wealthy widow, but none of the others had made the slightest impression upon her. He glanced up and caught her staring at him, making matters ten time worse when, clearly interpreting the nature of her thoughts correctly, he winked at her. So arrogant, she thought, tossing her head and looking away from him. ‘The lawyers who I thought were acting on your behalf, Lady Marlowe, offered to sell me access to the right of way that has been in use for centuries. For an extortionate sum, naturally.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ Leona replied, wrinkling her nose. ‘They are severely short of blunt. I have made sure that they cannot access George’s money and even if they somehow eventually steal my property—’
‘Which they will not,’ Frankie said with determination. ‘Zach and Max will make sure of that.’
‘I hope you are right, Frankie, but even if they do, they cannot survive on what Yaris makes as a solicitor and run my expensive household in London without funds. My servants don’t like them and will not remain in their service if they aren’t paid. Word will spread and…’ She smiled at no one in particular. ‘I feel a great deal better already.’
‘Theirs is a very bold move,’ Max said. ‘They must realise that you won’t give up without a fight and will likely prove to have right on your side, even if your husband’s will is not found. I imagine there was no entail of any sort.’
‘No, none.’
‘Well then, you are legally your husband’s next of kin.’
‘Perhaps they thought you would be easy to intimidate, Lady Marlowe,’ Mr Conroy said with an assessing look and a glint of amusement in his eye, ‘which was a gross miscalculation on their part. I have not had the pleasure of knowing you for more than half an hour but I am already aware that you will not give way to persecution.’
His assessment of her character made Leona feel ridiculously pleased. ‘I have never approved of bullies,’ she said. ‘I imagine that when they realised I couldn’t evict them but could withhold George’s money, they had to come up with a quick plan to keep the wolf from the door. Mrs Yaris’s spies in Ireland probably told her about your plans for exporting timber and she saw an opportunity. She hoped you would pay up rather than see your timber delayed. It wouldn’t have occurred to her that our paths would cross.’
‘I am so very glad that they did,’ he said with another engaging and intimately suggestive smile that made her blush.
‘Ariana would say it was fate,’ Lord Amos said, smiling. ‘Like your countrymen, Conroy, the Spanish are a superstitious lot.’
‘There’s a lot to be said for the old folklore, so there is,’ Mr Conroy replied, sounding to Leona as though he was deliberately enhancing his lilting Irish accent.
‘You’ll have us believing in fairies next,’ Vince said, laughing.
‘Or leprechauns,’ added Nia.
‘Ah, now Nia, you know better than to belittle the wee bearded ones,’ Mr Conroy replied, wagging a finger at her.
‘Indeed I would not dare,’ Nia replied, shuddering.
‘Well now.’ The duke’s deep voice broke the spell. Leona was able to give him her full attention and ignore the compelling distraction seated across from her. ‘I am sure we shall be able to come up with a way to assist you both. You must tell me later, Conroy, what help you think I can be with your timber. But for now, time’s getting on.’ He glanced at the long clock in the corner of the room as it struck the half hour and the dressing gong sounded simultaneously. He set his empty glass aside. ‘We should change for dinner.’
‘Quite.’ The duchess stood and rang the bell. ‘Faraday will show you to your room, Mr Conroy, and we shall see you all again very shortly.’
The butler materialised and asked Mr Conroy to follow him. He sprang from his seat with agile grace and did so, sending Leona a rakish smile as he passed her chair.
Leona walked from the room with Sara and Max Sheridan, watching the duke and duchess precede them up the stairs, walking so closely together that they might have been one person. Leona couldn’t withhold a sigh of envy, but it went unheard by Sara and Max,
since they were equally absorbed with one another and took scant notice of her presence.
Chapter Four
‘I thought the weather would provide the perfect excuse to have you to myself for a few days,’ Frankie said as she and Zach entered their suite of rooms together. ‘We never seem to be alone, and I know that you were hoping for a respite from all the disputes that constantly require your arbitration.’ She looked up at him through apologetic eyes. ‘I’m sorry you have been inconvenienced by Leona’s problems too.’
Zach slipped his arms around his wife’s waist and pulled her against him. ‘Her situation reminds you of your own before you had me to put up with?’
‘I suppose it does, in some respects. I dare say she will never find out what her husband was doing or why it cost him his life and she will always wonder.’ Frankie shook her head against his shoulder. ‘Now she has this added threat to contend with and I feel a good deal of sympathy for her.’
‘Your compassionate nature is one of the many things that I love about you. Don’t worry about Leona being here while we sort out her affairs. We are never completely alone so it makes little difference. Besides, it looks as though we have Conroy to entertain too.’
‘Now he is a charming gentleman,’ she said mischievously.
Zach sent her a scowl of mock disapproval. ‘I shall ensure the scoundrel is evicted at first light.’
Frankie laughed. ‘That I very much doubt. His problems and Leona’s appear to be connected, so they will both have to stay here for the time being.’ She glanced at the window as a strong gust of wind blew snow against it, rattling the pane. ‘They have no choice, given this wretched blizzard.’
‘It will blow itself out overnight.’
‘Do you really think the horrible Mrs Yaris will arrange for Leona to meet with an accident if she continues to oppose them?’ Frankie asked, frowning.
‘Nothing surprises me about the desperation of resentful relatives.’ Zach paused. ‘Are we confident that we can believe your friend’s account? Could Yaris actually be Marlowe’s heir?’
Frankie shook her head. ‘I think it very unlikely. You should check with Clarence. Given the dangerous nature of Marlowe’s occupation, I am sure he will confirm that nothing’s changed and people employed by the diplomatic service are encouraged to put their affairs in order before undertaking their duties. If Marlowe had excluded Leona, it would mean that she must have destroyed his will, and I refuse to believe her capable of such underhand behaviour, even if she could somehow have arranged for it to disappear from her husband’s lawyer’s office.’
‘That is what I supposed too, but the question had to be asked. You know me, I never take anything at face value.’
‘I am not well acquainted with Leona and her character could have undergone a marked change since we last met, but I doubt it. I cannot think of any reason why she would invent a will that named her as her husband’s sole heir, especially if Marlowe’s solicitor can confirm that it was drawn up. If it was taken from the solicitor’s premises it doesn’t show him in good light, so I am impressed by his integrity in admitting that it actually existed in the first place. We also have independent confirmation from Mr Conroy that someone is interfering with Marlowe’s affairs in Ireland. Leona seemed genuinely shocked when he mentioned it, so I am satisfied that she is not a party to that particular deception either.’ Frankie lifted one shoulder. ‘Why would she be?’
‘We shall see what can be done for her. I will send an express to Clarence just as soon as the roads are clear enough for it to be delivered and ask him what he can tell me about the circumstances surrounding Marlowe’s death.’
Frankie looked up at him. ‘Clarence won’t reveal much about a clandestine operation. Anyway, I am convinced it has nothing to do with her grasping relatives’ machinations.’
‘Very likely not.’ Zach cupped Frankie’s chin and lowered his head to kiss her lips. ‘Besides, it was I who brought Lady Marlowe here. Your friend may not live in Winchester, but her husband was involved in Clarence’s devious games, which makes her our responsibility in a convoluted sort of way. But I would help her even if it did not. I cannot abide men who attempt to take advantage of helpless females.’
‘In this case, it sounds as though it’s one female taking advantage of another, given that Mrs Yaris is the driving force. Or that’s how it would be if Leona was the type to give in to coercion.’
‘Stop worrying, my sweet.’ Zach sat on the edge of her bed, pulled her onto his lap and kissed her thoroughly. She was breathless when he finally allowed her up for air, but his hands continued to rove suggestively over her body.
‘Zach, we don’t have time! Bess will be here momentarily to help me change. You will have to wait. Now go away. You should be thinking of putting clothes on, not taking them off!’
‘Heartless female!’
Zach shook his head, leaving Frankie no longer fretting about her friend. He pretended to be affronted as he took himself off to his own dressing room, where Samuel would have hot water and his evening attire ready and waiting for him.
*
Doran followed Faraday into a spacious chamber with a view over the snow-laden paddocks at the rear of the estate. Tyler was already there, snuffling as he laid out Doran’s evening clothes.
‘If you have everything you require, sir, I shall leave you to change your attire.’
‘Thank you, Faraday. I’m sure I shall be very comfortable here.’
Faraday inclined his head, making it clear that he would take it as a personal affront if any guest in this luxurious mansion felt anything other than cossetted. He withdrew, closing the door quietly behind him.
‘Quite a place,’ Tyler remarked, the master of understatement.
‘I wonder if that’s the stud farm Vince talked about,’ Doran said, pointing to buildings adjacent to the paddocks.
If he was right then any horses inside it would be dry and warm in the commodious barns. A man appeared, leaning heavily on a stick, a dog at his side. He waved his free arm, as though giving instructions to the person who had followed him out, leading a horse. It was almost dark now and the blizzard impaired Doran’s vision further, but he continued to peer through the flurry of white, wondering about the advisability of a lame man being abroad in such treacherous conditions.
It soon became apparent that his concerns were groundless when the man stood on a mounting block and slipped awkwardly into the saddle. He stowed his stick in what was obviously a pouch made especially for it in the saddlebag and turned the horse with an expert flip of the reins he held in one hand. It was like a transformation, Doran thought, admiring what he saw. A lame man made whole again the moment he sat astride a horse. Mindless of conditions that would have the majority of able-bodied men finding excuses to remain indoors, he pulled his hat low over his eyes, cast an upward glance at the steadily falling snow, shrugged and rode off with the dog running alongside. The snow was fetlock deep but the man appeared to know the safest ground. Doran watched until they disappeared from view, impressed when the horse responded to the man’s mastery, putting his trust in him and not faltering once.
‘That’s Caleb Harrison,’ Tyler said, joining Doran at the window. ‘He manages the stud farm for Lord Amos. His horse fell on him at Waterloo, accounting for the lame leg, but the word below stairs is that he’s still a better horseman than most whole men. He can make ’em do absolutely anything he asks of them, apparently.’
‘So I see,’ Doran said, throwing off his coat and stretching his arms above his head. ‘You wouldn’t get me riding out in conditions like these.’
‘That ain’t what you said when you insisted upon coming here against my advice,’ Tyler said with an exaggerated sniff.
‘You’ll live, Tyler. Stop making such a fuss. We have more immediate problems than a runny nose.’
‘Oh aye, what would they be then?’
Doran stuck out his feet so that Tyler could pull his boots off and told him ab
out the presence of Lady Marlowe at Winchester Park.
‘Bit of a coincidence, ain’t it?’ Tyler asked, straightening up from his task and scowling when he made the connection to Doran’s estate.
‘You think it’s deliberate? She somehow heard that I was expected and contrived this meeting?’ Doran shook his head. ‘Don’t see it myself. If you’re right, she could make a living on the stage. I’ll wager half my fortune that she was as surprised to learn my identity as I was hers.’
Tyler pursed his lips in a considering fashion. ‘Or so she claims.’
‘I believed her, actually.’
‘Right.’ Tyler grunted and rolled his eyes. ‘Attractive, is she?’
‘She’s not in the same league as the duchess or Sara Sheridan,’ Doran replied in a considering fashion, ‘but there’s something about her. A fragility that she tries not to show, coupled with courage and a fierce determination not to be bullied. Can’t help but admire her for it.’
Doran enjoyed female company from all walks of life. He’d speak to a duchess in the same friendly manner that he’d used to address the barmaid in the local inn earlier, and his lack of pretention and genuine interest in the affairs of others made him universally popular, especially if a hostess required a single man to balance her numbers. Tyler insisted that as a man of wealth and property, it went without being said that his appearance anywhere would generate competition between the single ladies even if he’d had the misfortune to look like the rear end of a horse.
Perhaps Tyler was in the right of it, and Doran never lost sight of that fact. Sociably disposed Doran might be, but he wasn’t contemplating matrimony and he was careful not to leave any of his many lady friends with impressions to the contrary. He tried not to think along those lines, so his reaction to Lady Marlowe, who could potentially be attempting to swindle him, was that much more surprising.
On the Duke's Authority (Ducal Encounters series 4 Book 3) Page 5