at the woman in question, then away. She tried not to look shocked. It was the first time anyone had treated her as a married woman, not a girl who must be sheltered from scandalous gossip.
“Isn’t that Helen Trent?” Lady Isabella went on. “I’m surprised she dares show her face in town with all those gambling debts unpaid. Three thousand pounds or more, I heard. I know she can’t be blackballed from the clubs the way a gentleman can, but you’d think she’d be ashamed.”
“She’s barred from all the decent gaming houses,” Edward put in.
“Really?” Lady Isabella relished the tidbit. “What will she do, I wonder? They say she cannot live without cards or dice.”
“Find another ‘patron,’ I expect,” answered Edward carelessly.
His mother’s laugh trilled out. “She’s hardly the beauty she once was, darling. I don’t think any rich man will be lured in to cover her sort of losses.” Seeing Charlotte’s expression, she added, “Poor Helen generally loses.”
“No head for it at all,” Edward agreed. “If she can’t get anyone to frank her, it’ll have to be the moneylenders.”
“Edward, shame on you! What a shocking idea.” In fact, his mother appeared to find it delicious. “Let’s sit. Looking at art is so tiring.”
She hadn’t actually looked at any, Charlotte thought. But she was happy to sit on one of the cushioned benches. This glance under the shiny surface of society had left her a bit dazed.
“Dear Charlotte.” Lady Isabella’s gloved hand patted one of hers. “I am so glad to have this opportunity. Ever since we met I’ve wanted to talk to you about Henry’s will. It is just so very unfair to you.”
Charlotte had to nod. Whenever she focused on her true situation—which she did as little as possible—she was stung by the injustice of it all. It was much more pleasant not to think about it.
“I feel for you because the same thing happened to me.”
“Really?”
Edward had drifted away. He stood, hands behind his back, gazing at a huge historical painting of Lot’s wife turning to a pillar of salt.
“When my father died,” Lady Isabella explained. “He left me next to nothing. Henry as well. Everything went to James.” Seeing Charlotte’s frown, she took it to be confusion. “Our elder brother; Alec’s father, you know. It was outrageous. I took the matter to court.”
Charlotte remembered a vague mention of something like this. “To challenge the will?”
“Yes, indeed. I was the one who stayed at home to care for Mama, you know. It always falls to the daughter, does it not? James and Henry were off to school, town, wherever they liked. Do you know I was thirty-one before I broke away to marry? Can you imagine?” Her laugh was less musical this time.
Charlotte didn’t know what to say. Lady Isabella seemed to expect a response. “Your suit in court was successful?”
Lady Isabella looked away, her thin shoulders stiff. “Well… no. Except, I made my point, you see. I told them all exactly what I thought.”
Which accounted for her reception at Sir Alexander’s house, Charlotte concluded. “I’m told that Henry’s will is quite legal. He was free to do as he pleased with the house and estate; I have no grounds to dispute it.”
“Of course they tell you that.” Lady Isabella leaned forward. “Those who benefit will always discourage…”
“The thing is… I beg your pardon, Lady Isabella, but it seems to me that no one benefits from Henry’s will. Unless you count being allowed to live in that house…” Which she did not. In her mind, the will was a mirror of Henry Wylde’s character—slyly spiteful. She didn’t want to think of him, still less spend months grappling with legalities. “I don’t wish to go to court.”
The older woman leaned tensely toward her for another moment, then sat back. “Well, of course it’s your choice, my dear.” She rose. “Shall we see some other paintings?”
They walked into a further room and found Edward there. He looked bored. Lady Isabella barely glanced at the pictures before moving on. It was impossible to take in so much at one time, Charlotte thought. There must be at least fifty paintings in every room. By the time they had made the circuit of the building, colors and images were blurred together in her mind.
“Very striking,” Lady Isabella said as they returned to the entrance. “Don’t you think, Charlotte?”
“Uh, yes. It was lovely to have an outing.” That was certainly true. She smiled at both the Danforths.
“Poor dear. I should be delighted to