lamplight in the reception hall. Immediately the intimacy of their last night meeting stretched between them. As if she felt it too, she backed away from the door and let him enter and close it himself.
She led him to the library again, but did not sit. Instead she appeared unsure of herself. That was unusual, and fascinating.
“I suppose we could have done this in the park,” she said.
“It would have been very dark there.”
“I meant in the morning.”
“Then it would have been very light. It would be better if all of London does not wonder why I am strolling the park with one of my cousin’s temporary servants.”
“Of course. Yes.” She sat on the divan, in her usual spot. She did not lift her feet onto the cushions. She did not lounge, but remained upright. Stiff.
He availed himself of a chair near the divan this time. She did not react to that.
“The meeting. You said you would give me the particulars.”
“It began calmly enough. It ended in a rout. I think Sanders, the solicitor, feared for his life.”
“What changed the tone?”
“Reality. Sanders explained that if anyone challenged the will it would hold up disbursement for all concerned. They knew that, but having a lawyer say it is more real. He outlined the various reasons a will might be successfully challenged, and pointed out that none of them applied to the late duke’s testament. Well, they knew that too so had not done so. He explained the rare circumstances when a legal will might be challenged regarding the disbursement of assets. Only one might work for any of them.”
“He explained that to me too. They would have to claim that they were dependent on the duke and had reason to believe his support would continue. He told me that did not apply to any of them either.”
“That is his professional opinion. It would not be hard to find a solicitor who made a different case. That is the danger. He made matters worse by describing the accounting thus far, and how little there was to divide if all the legacies were administered. He did hold out the possibility that one of the two mystery women not yet found would be dead.”
“How good of him.”
“Several of my cousins brightened at that information. I heard someone mutter that whoever had done in Uncle Frederick had a few other jobs to complete.”
“Yet it still was calm?”
“The storm broke right then. The factions declared themselves, with Agnes and Dolores leading each one. Old resentments flew along with accusations and insults. My family can be as contentious as any, but this was a rare display. Unfortunately, Nicholas thought he could quell it all and end the dispute. He only made it worse.”
“What did he do?”
“He assumed his most ducal demeanor and announced that if anyone challenged the will’s execution as it was written that person or persons would be cut off without a penny in his will.”
“Oh, dear.”
“It was injury upon injury. No hope for salvation. Poverty for life was how most of them saw it. Pandemonium erupted.”
“Surely in such a family they have other resources than legacies.”
“They do indeed. Each of my uncle’s brothers received a portion from their mother and a share of their father’s personal wealth. It was respectable enough, with careful tending, to keep gentlemen of their positions in style. Unfortunately, they could never, as younger sons, marry quite as well, so their own children would have much smaller portions in addition to dividing whatever survived of their father’s legacy. You can see the problem. In several generations, after several divisions, little would be left for each person. My uncles were not present because they understood nothing would be left to them by the duke. But my generation sees the future too clearly.”
“Which is increasingly diminished income.”
“Or, heaven forbid, employment.”
She considered him intently, as if his amiable tone had revealed too much. “Do you resent that? Were your own expectations thwarted more than you admit?”
“Are you still trying to build an argument that I killed my uncle?” The evidence that she was disappointed him, although his reaction could not be justified. Still, he rather wished . . . he was not sure what he wished, although right now kissing her kept tempting his mind. The night begged for it. He was not the only one who experienced that special magnetism that men and women feel when arousal altered the senses and delirium waited one kiss away. The way she met him already