How to Claim a Governess’s Heart - Bridget Barton Page 0,102

return to bed? I can keep Betsy from rolling in the garden like a little piglet,” Lord John suggested.

He was studying his bride with worry in his eyes. He had never seen Bridget under the weather before. Naturally, it was to happen from time to time, but the way she looked so weak and frail with her large eyes slightly sunken in made him worry deeply for her wellbeing.

“That is kind of you, but I think this will pass. I just need a little something in my stomach, and I’ll be fine, or at least that is what Lady Eugenia recommended.”

“Recommended?” Lord John questioned.

Their conversation was halted momentarily by the maid with the morning mail. Usually it held very little, perhaps an invitation from Higgins or Lord and Lady Thorpe, or at most a letter from the agent in London. Today, however, there was a very thick envelope that was almost as large as the silver tray the maid brought the post in on.

“What is that?” Bridget asked, changing the direction of her husband’s thoughts.

Lord John looked the large envelope over before opening it. It was full of several papers with a second sealed envelope inside.

“It’s from a London solicitor. This here, however, is Jeromy Smelting’s handwriting.”

“Betsy’s grandfather?” Betsy asked.

“Yes. After my first letter to him all those months ago, we have kept correspondence – well, as much as could be allowed to and from Jamaica. I daresay perhaps two or three letters at the most.”

Lord John opened the top letter and read through it. Then he began rifling through several of the documents that the large envelope had contained.

“What is it?” Bridget asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

Lord John had explained that Mr. Jeromy Smelting had been happy to gift his share of Elisabeth Smelting’s jewellery to his granddaughter Betsy. He had also asked Lord John to include Mr. Smelting in his granddaughter’s life and happenings as he was able. Mr. Smelting had deeply regretted how things had been left between his son and himself and would have loved nothing more than to still have a connection to his last living family member. Lord John had been more than happy to oblige the man’s wishes.

A small portrait of Betsy had been commissioned in London just before leaving for the country and was sent off to Mr. Smelting on the next available ship as well as a description of the child, her likes and interests.

“This letter is addressed to my uncle’s solicitor. It seems it was written the same time he responded to my first enquiry into his share of the jewellery,” Lord John explained.

“What does it say?”

“It seems that he requested that I be named as his sole heir.”

“Sole heir?”

“Yes,” Lord John rifled through the papers. “It looks like my uncle has the plantation in Jamaica and a small parcel of land here in England that gives him a yearly living, and investments in a tobacco enterprise.”

“Tabacco?”

“Yes, I believe it is his primary crop on the plantation. It looks as though he used some of his earnings to invest in a cigar company back here in England.”

“But surely he would want to give all this to his own family. Did he not remarry in Jamaica?”

“Yes, it seems that he had no other children with his second wife and doesn’t expect to, owing to his age. It does add the stipulation that his second wife is to stay on the plantation and have a yearly allowance should he die before her.”

“Why do you suppose he would do this?” Bridget marvelled.

“It says in the letter here,” Lord John read it out loud, “’I wish I had been a better father to my own son, more supportive of his personal wishes. Luckily Frank was a strong-minded man and, despite my displeasure, made a great man of himself. Though I cannot change my relationship with my dearly departed son, I hope that I will be able to help my nephew, John, as he endeavours to also carve his own path in life.’”

“What does this all mean?” Bridget asked as she too began to rifle through the large stack of papers.

They seemed to be copies of documents detailing all that Lord John would inherit upon his uncle’s death.

“It means, my dear, that we will never have another financial worry in our life. The entire estate comes to three thousand pounds a year! A shocking amount. I daresay my brother would even be surprised to hear so much fall into my hands.”

Bridget’s face went even

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