An Unwelcome Suitor (Entangled Inheritance Book 4) Page 21

  I needed to search for other employment, but I did not know London well. The last time I had been here had been the day Aunt Augusta’s dreadful will had been read in the office of Tuttle-Kirk and Associates. I drew a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts in order to make a reasonable plan.

  The only person I knew in London was Mr. Tuttle-Kirk himself. Perhaps he could help me decide a course, or even provide a little sympathy and guidance for my situation. After so many weeks, I wanted to hear the will again, if only to eliminate the possibility that this was all a horrible nightmare.

  I instructed the coachman to take me to the office of Mr. Tuttle-Kirk. I vaguely remembered its location, but was able to give him enough direction to deposit me on the road in front of the faded brick buildings, with the sign reading Tuttle-Kirk and Associates, and the pile of poorly cared for books in the window. With nothing else to do, I marched toward the front steps.

  The front office was just as disorganized as it had been the last time I had set foot in it. Mr. Tuttle-Kirk, already a man of small stature, practically disappeared behind the many documents, books, and shelves. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Watts. How fortuitous that you should arrive, for I had planned to visit Brookhaven this week.” The man’s mustache twitched, indicating that there must have been a smile struggling to escape from beneath it. “What has brought you here this morning?”

  The horrible memories encased in the room made my palms sweat. “I—well, I had hoped you may be able to give me more information about the will of my great-aunt. I know you said there were no other options for us, other than the marriage of my sister to Dr. Pembroke, but I wondered if anything has…changed.”

  Mr. Tuttle-Kirk’s blue eyes blinked at me. “I’m afraid that the document is legally binding. Your great-aunt made certain of it. She appointed me to oversee the officiality of the marriage between your sister and Dr. Pembroke before the summer’s end. Considering that I have not heard any news, I assume they have not yet married?”

  “No, they have not.” I interlaced my fingers, tapping my foot against the wooden floor. I planned my next words carefully. “The will did not, perchance, mention that any other of the sisters could wed the physician?”

  Mr. Tuttle-Kirk’s white eyebrows lifted above his spectacles, a suspicious twist to his head as he looked at me. “I believe it clearly stated the eldest Miss Watts. It was quite a strange will, even when taking into consideration the peculiar wills I have been working with of late.” His features softened in sympathy as he fumbled through the mass of papers on his desk, somehow finding precisely what he was looking for within seconds. “Would you like me to read it again?”

  I nodded with a swallow.

  Mr. Tuttle-Kirk lifted the paper by the corners, positioning it in front of his spectacles. “I, Augusta Margaretta Watts, do leave my finest racing stallion by the name of Thunder, to Mr. George Burbidge of Kent. I leave Mrs. George Burbidge with her choice of any instrument from the music room in my estate.”

  He paused. “Does any of that interest you?”

  I shook my head. My uncle and aunt had yet to come claim the things offered them, and I doubted they would leave Spain for it.

  “Very well, the next clause…” He scanned the page in search of his next place. “I bequeath Brookhaven, and all its lands, properties, and possessions, to my great-nieces, Juliana, Elizabeth, and Martha Watts, revoking previous right of inheritance from Mr. Theodore Nathanial Yeatman of London, England.”

  If Aunt Augusta had revoked Mr. Yeatman’s right to inherit Brookhaven, then why would she turn and give him another opportunity in the next clause? That particular phrasing had not caught my attention until that moment. I leaned forward in my chair so I would not miss a word delivered by the solicitor’s nasal voice.

  “My great-nieces shall inherit the estate with the condition that the eldest, Juliana Watts, wed Dr. Luke Pembroke of Berkshire, England, before the end of the summer, the date marked September 21st, 1815. In the event that the above requirements are met and on the condition that Dr. Luke Pembroke allows residence to Elizabeth and Martha as well as his wife, Juliana, he shall hereby be granted equal right to receipt and ownership of all lands and structures entitled to Brookhaven. If such conditions are not met, none of the above parties shall be in receipt of the estate of Brookhaven, and it shall pass to my aforementioned nephew.”

  The phrasing of the final sentence fell crookedly in my ears. Something was not right. I froze, my mind spinning. “Nephew?” The chaos of the previous reading had not allowed anyone to question the lack of a ‘great’ before the word ‘nephew.’ Mr. Yeatman was indeed Aunt Augusta’s great nephew, my cousin. My heart thudded against my ribs. She would have never given him a chance to inherit—she hated him. I had always found it strange. The first clause of the will indicated his disinheritance, didn’t it? Then who was the aforementioned nephew?

  Mr. Tuttle-Kirk adjusted his spectacles. “Yes, nephew.”

  “Mr. Yeatman is not her nephew. She has referred to my sisters and me as her great-nieces, so wouldn’t she refer to him as her great-nephew?”

  “Yes, of course.” The solicitor frowned in confusion. “Should the marriage not be carried out, the estate would pass to the aforementioned nephew, Mr. George Burbidge.”

  I covered my mouth with one hand. Mr. Burbidge was my uncle. “He is her nephew!”

  “Indeed.” Mr. Tuttle-Kirk eyed me from beneath the spectacles. “Did Mr. Yeatman assume the will spoke of himself?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I choked out, nearly too surprised to speak.

  The solicitor paled. “Oh, dear, I suppose I should have taken time to further explain.” He set the will down, his posture indicating utter exhaustion. “Forgive me.” His eyes twinkled with a heartfelt apology. “I will meet with Mr. Yeatman promptly to explain the misunderstanding.”

  My mind still raced, and I hardly heard him.

  “I meant to pay a visit to Brookhaven this week, in fact, for I finally received correspondence from Spain from the potential heir, Mr. Burbidge.” Mr. Tuttle-Kirk lifted a letter from his desk. “He has indicated no desire to return to England, even if the estate did come to his possession. He has acquired much wealth in his new country, and would be pleased to allow you and your sisters to remain in residence at the estate if you are capable of managing it well.”

  The shock of his words struck me silent. I did not even think of Mr. Yeatman’s disappointment. All I could think of was Luke, and how there was now hope. Betsey’s motivation to marry Mr. Yeatman was entirely gone—he had no chance at Brookhaven. His hold on my reputation could be overlooked by my marriage to Luke.

  We could all stay at Brookhaven. Together.

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Tuttle-Kirk.” I stood, numb and shocked. “Will you inform Mr. Yeatman soon?” Telling him myself that he would never have Brookhaven would be more than satisfactory, but I feared his reaction would be taken out on my sisters and me, perhaps even Luke.

  The solicitor gave a firm nod. “I will inform him straight away.”

  “His residence is here in London,” I said.

  “Not to worry, I will pay him a call at once.” Mr. Tuttle-Kirk bustled out from behind his desk, gathering a stack of papers into a sachet. “I do hope he takes the news well.”

  He directed me into the hallway, where the clerk rose to open the door. My new plan was clear, setting my heart racing with hope and nervousness and hundreds of other things as I walked toward the waiting coach. I needed to tell everyone—Luke, Juliana, Betsey—before it was too late.

  Chapter 24

  The ride home felt like it lasted forever. I stared out the window, clutching my hands together tightly in my lap. I had only been absent for a day, but with the news I carried, I felt close to bursting with anxiety to make it there faster, to tell Juliana that she could marry Gilbert. I thought of Luke, and my lungs tightened with emotion. He had made his feelings for me clear that day by the stables, b
ut I had not told him of mine. I had not been brave enough, and it had seemed quite futile to do so. But now—now there was hope for a future with him, even at Brookhaven.

  When the passing land became more familiar, my heart picked up speed. What had happened in my absence? Would Juliana and Martha be angry with me for leaving? Had Luke even known?

  The coach rounded a curve in the road and Brookhaven came into view. As we rode closer, my eyes caught on a figure walking down the front steps. I studied the shape of his shoulders, the height, the dark colors, and my heart skipped. It was Luke. If he had just been inside, then he must have known that I had gone to London; my sisters must have told him.

  The horses slowed on the drive, and I opened the door, jumping down from the step. Luke was walking in the direction of his gig. He seemed to be in a hurry. He climbed inside, taking hold of the reins.

  “Luke!” I shouted, my voice breathless as I ran toward him.

  His head turned, and he jumped down from the vehicle. “Elizabeth?” His features flashed with surprise and emotion before he scowled, walking toward me with long strides. “I thought you were in London. I thought you ran away.”

  I stopped, catching my breath. “You are right, I was in London.”

  He reached me, tipping his head down, searching my face. His gaze burned with confusion. “I was about to drive there with the hope of finding you. A governess?” He gave an exasperated sigh. “Was this another of your schemes? To try to make me travel to London to tell you what I could have told you this morning?”

  “No.” My voice rose in defense.

  His eyes took me in with quick, frustrated glances. He grabbed my hand, pulling me all the way across the lawn and around the side of the house. We stopped behind the faded brick, and he moved his hands to my face, my hair, his expression softening. “Why did you go?”

  “I had to leave. I—”

  He silenced me with a kiss, quick and fervent. My heart hammered against my chest, my head spinning. He drew back, his eyes filled with determination as he stared down at me. “I love you, Elizabeth. That is all I am capable of thinking of, and all I have thought of for weeks. You have stolen my heart, all of it. Betsey has made her decision. She would rather have Brookhaven than anything else, even if it means marrying Mr. Yeatman.”

  “Is she not yet engaged to him?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  I sighed in relief.

  “But if Betsey thinks she could be happy with Yeatman, then I will not stop her. She hates her life at present, and I cannot help but guess that if you are willing to work for a living as a governess, then perhaps you would not object to a life like Betsey has.” He held my face between his hands so I could not possibly miss a single one of his words. “Perhaps you would not object to marrying me. Martha could live with us too. I will ensure she is well cared for.”

  Tears stung my eyes at the pleading in his gaze, the hoarse emotion in his voice. Had he been willing to sacrifice so much for me? I could hardly wait to explain what I had learned at Mr. Tuttle-Kirk’s office that day. “Yes, I will marry you.” A smile broke over my cheeks. “I love you.”

  Luke’s eyebrows drew together in a look of clear confusion. “That was far easier than I thought it would be. I thought you would call me a selfish pig at the very least.”

  I laughed, touching the smiling crease in his cheek, sliding my fingers into his hair. “There is something else I need to tell you.”

  He stared down at me with such raw adoration that I could hardly catch my breath. “What is it?”

  His lips were far too close to mine to possibly tell the story right. I rose on my toes to kiss him. “It will take too long to explain,” I said. He did not seem to object. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me slowly, with enough ardor to rid my thoughts of anything but him. His hands slid up to the back of my neck and then to my hair as his lips moved with purpose, showing me just how it felt to be loved and wanted. He pulled back just enough to take a breath, and before he could kiss me again, I put my finger to his lips. “Luke. We are being quite selfish again. Don’t you think Juliana would like to know? She could have already reached Gilbert by now.”

  Luke’s smile spread warmth to my bones, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You are right. We ought to go inside and deliver the news.”

  Excitement rose inside me. “But first I must explain everything I learned today in London.”

  Luke listened in stunned silence as I relayed each detail of my meeting with the solicitor that day. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Mr. Yeatman was never going to inherit, and my uncle is quite happily settled in Spain with his family.” I squeezed his hand. “We may all live at Brookhaven.”

  He stared down at me with disbelief. “How did we all so quickly misunderstand?”

  I sighed. “Aunt Augusta was not one to use proper names for those she disliked. She simply called Mr. Yeatman her ‘incorrigible nephew.’ I was so accustomed to it, I forgot that he was indeed her great-nephew. The shock of the will was also quite deafening. I don’t think any of us heard past the declaration that you and Juliana would be forced to marry.”

  He burst into laughter, the sound still mingled with surprise.

  “I cannot wait to see Juliana’s expression.” I released a contented sigh.

  He chuckled and pulled me in for one more kiss before we stepped out from behind the house. The sun had begun fading from the sky, leaving faint streaks of peach in its wake. I reveled in the beauty all around, unable to believe that someone as unlucky as I had experienced so much luck that day. I picked up my pace, pulling against Luke’s hand. I couldn’t wait to tell my sisters the news. Luke took my eagerness in stride, and we practically ran to the house, bursting through the doors.

  “Juliana!” I called, pacing the entry hall.

  From the top of the staircase I heard her voice. “Eliza?” The anger behind it did not frighten me at all, for I knew it would be gone the moment I told her what I had just told Luke. Martha appeared beside her, scowling.

  They both hurried down the stairs. The black of Juliana’s dress contrasted sharply with the paleness of her cheeks. She threw her arms around me. “What the devil were you thinking? Why did you leave?”

  I felt terrible for smiling when Juliana was so distraught, but I couldn’t help myself. “I explained it all in my letter.” I took her by the shoulders, stepping back so I could see her face. “I thought you were going to marry Luke, and I couldn’t bear to be here when that happened. I have never been as strong as you, Juliana, and I never will be.”

  She still glared at me, her blue eyes narrowed. She lifted her gaze to where Luke stood behind me, her brow scrunching.

  “Luke and I are engaged,” I said.

  Juliana’s eyes darted between us. “But Betsey—”

  I stopped her, explaining everything from my meeting with the solicitor to Luke’s proposal. When I finished speaking, Juliana appeared quite ghostly, and I feared she might faint. I pulled her back into my arms, laughing. “It is much to comprehend, is it not?”

  She made a sound much like a squeak. Tears streamed from her eyes. “I need to tell Gilbert. Do you think he still cares for me, even after the choice I nearly made?”

  “I am certain he does, and I have a way to prove it.” I brushed a tear from her cheek before hurrying up the stairs and fetching Gilbert’s letter from my desk.

  Juliana unfolded it carefully when I returned, as if it might fall to pieces at any moment. As she read the heartfelt words, her tears dripped onto the page, and her lips quivered. She held the letter against her chest, drawing a deep breath.

  Luke stepped up beside me, taking my hand. I smiled up at him, holding tightly to his fingers.

  Juliana stared at us, sniffing away her tears. “I cannot believe I did not perceive your feelings before. I am so very happy for you both.” She took her bonnet and gloves from the marble-topped table, her hands shaking as she pulled on the gloves.<
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  She turned toward the door before pausing. “Perhaps I should wait until morning…”

  “Go!” we all said in unison.

  Juliana laughed, wiping the last of the moisture from her cheeks before opening the door. Martha agreed to accompany her on the walk, and Luke and I stayed on the front steps. I watched Juliana’s shoulders—they no longer drooped.

  When we were alone, I leaned my head against Luke’s shoulder, threading my hands around his arm. “Do you plan to write me a letter as romantic as Gilbert’s?”

  The rumble of his laughter buzzed against me. “Only if you promise not to use it for any mischief.”

  “I have never worked mischief a day in my life.” I looked up at him, widening my eyes as innocently as possible.

  His smile tipped sideways. “I thought you had given up on trying to fool me.”

  “I will keep trying until I succeed.”

  “You always were quite determined.”

  “And you always were quite charming, whether I cared to admit it or not.”

  He chuckled, sliding his fingers under my chin, tipping my face up to his. He kissed my forehead, then my lips. “And you were always far too easy to love.”

  Epilogue

  Maryann’s blindfold slipped over her nose, two sets of long lashes poking out above the fabric. She walked with impeccable accuracy for someone blindfolded, and I could only guess that she could see me from above its folds.

  Her little hands reached out, tugging on my skirts. “Hmm… is it… Elizabeth?”

  I let out a gasp. “Yes! How did you know?” I tapped her nose.

  Her giggles were loud enough to fill the entire parlor, even one as spacious as Brookhaven’s. After dinner that evening, the girls had insisted on playing another game of blind man’s bluff. Gilbert’s mother and sister had joined the game wholeheartedly, hiding together behind the pianoforte. It was the first time we had all been together at Brookhaven since Luke and I had returned from our wedding trip just a few days before.