Victoria Alexander - Lady Traveller's Guide To Happily Ever After

“Did you ever once lead him to believe there could be anything between you once you met William?”

“Of course not.”

“Then you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“I don’t feel guilty,” Effie said. “I had nothing to do with this. But I do feel badly for him. It’s quite sad, don’t you think?”

“Unrequited love usually is.”

“He was a wonderful man, very charming and quite nice. He was very nearly perfect I suppose. William wasn’t the least bit perfect.” Effie smiled.

“Are you going to take up this challenge he has set for you?”

“It does seem like a lot of effort.”

“It was a man’s dying wish. You really can’t say no to a dying man’s wish.” Gwen paused. “Besides, he says you’ll be paid for any expenses you incur as well as receive a stipend as he anticipates this will take a great deal of your time.” She grimaced. “Do you think he knew of your financial difficulties?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Effie shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly accept his money under those circumstances. I should have to return it.”

“You can’t return it—he’s dead.”

“Then I shall give it to charity,” Effie said staunchly.

“We’ll be charity in no more than a year ourselves,” Gwen pointed out.

For a few minutes, Effie had forgotten about their financial difficulties. “That does put it in a different light.”

“It also seems to me—” Gwen chose her words with care “—this man’s last thoughts were not for himself but for those he loved, which apparently included you.”

“If I agree to do this, I am to meet with his solicitor and the parties involved tomorrow.”

“And?”

“And I suppose when a man who is no longer with us wants to do something rather lovely, it would be bad form for the living to refuse.”

Gwen adopted a casual tone. “You are doing it then?”

“Yes, I suppose I am. But I’m not doing it alone.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Effie drew her brows together. “Still, it’s a matter of love. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing one should do for money.”

“You’re not doing it for the money. You’re doing it because a man who cared deeply for you has asked for your help. It’s the only thing he ever asked of you. The money is simply a delightful bonus. He doesn’t need it anymore but with any luck, it will sustain you until we can come up with a way to avoid destitution.”

“Sustain us ,” Effie said firmly.

Gwen grinned. “Even better.”

Poppy stepped into the room, carrying a tray with the dreaded broth steaming in a large bowl. “What’s even better?”

Effie and Gwen traded glances.

“I believe, my dear old friend...” Effie smiled in a manner she had been told was more than a little wicked. “We have a new project.”

“ARE YOU MAD?” The question blurted from James’s mouth before he could stop it. Still, if anything seemed to warrant the questioning of sanity it was the words the solicitor had just dropped like a sudden whiff of something unexpected and extremely unpleasant.

“This is not my idea, James,” Marcus Davies said in a patient manner. He had no doubt been practicing for this particular meeting. He and James had attended school together but hadn’t become friends until after James’s marriage, brought together initially by their shared affinity for raucous living and having a great deal of fun. A few years ago, both men put their respective pasts behind them as Marcus joined his father’s firm—the firm that had long handled Uncle Richard’s affairs—and James had become involved in Uncle Richard’s business interests and estate management. In short, they had grown up. While they had once been cohorts in disreputable antics, they had eventually discovered the advantage of respectable comportment. More’s the pity. “This is entirely your uncle’s doing.”

“He’d never do something so preposterous.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Violet shot him a look of chastisement or annoyance or exasperation or some twisted female combination of all that and more. Women had thrown him all kinds of looks in his life but they were usually far more pleasant and inviting. “It’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do. I never paid a single visit here wherein he didn’t bring up how it was time to reconcile our differences. Indeed, it was his favorite topic.” She glanced at the older lady sitting in a chair strategically placed off to one side of Marcus’s desk. “Mrs. Higginbotham? What do you think?”

“I certainly don’t think Richard was mad, if that’s what you’re implying, my lord.” Mrs. Higginbotham cast him a look shockingly similar to Violet’s. “According to the letter he sent me, he wanted to, well, correct a mistake or right a wrong or prevent a great loss, something of that nature.” The widow was once apparently a good friend of Uncle Richard’s, although James couldn’t recall ever hearing her name. Regardless, his uncle had thought highly enough of this Ophelia Higginbotham to place James’s fate in the lady’s hands. She nodded at Marcus. “I suggest you continue as there will no doubt be further outbursts—” both ladies cast James that unnerving glance again “—and I daresay we don’t want this to go on longer than necessary.”

“Very well.” Marcus shot James a pointed look, a warning to keep his mouth shut. While his firm handled Uncle Richard’s affairs, Marcus personally managed all of James’s legal needs. He was at once James’s friend, legal advisor and, on occasion, protector. The solicitor cleared his throat. “As I was saying, while you do inherit your uncle’s title, his properties—including the country estate and the house in London, as well as his fortune—were his to do with as he pleased.”

James waved off the explanation. “We know all that. Go on.”

“I simply want to make certain you and Lady Ellsworth are clear on all the various aspects of your uncle’s will so there are no misunderstandings.” The others might not realize it but it was apparent to James that his old friend was somewhat amused by Uncle Richard’s will. They would have to discuss later how this was not the least bit amusing. “As his only heir, the argument can be made that you are certainly entitled to his property and his fortune but his lordship was very specific about the conditions under which you would receive it all.

“First, as I’m sure you remember my saying a minute ago—”

“Burned into my brain,” James muttered.

“—you and Lady Ellsworth are to reside together for a period of two years, eleven months, one week and three days. That length of time is based on the date of today’s meeting as per your uncle’s instructions. He wished this meeting to be held as soon after his death as possible. But as Lady Ellsworth was abroad, it did take some time to contact her.”

“Uncle Richard always knew exactly where I was,” Violet pointed out. “We corresponded regularly.”

“The blame for any delay falls entirely on us.” Marcus cast Violet an apologetic smile. “As I was saying, for two years, eleven—”

“Three years,” James said. “You might as well call it three years.”

“For the sake of expediency, very well, three years it is.” Marcus continued. “With no more than a total of fourteen days spent apart during the course of any given year.”

“This residing together begins—” Violet held her breath “—when?”

“Today,” Marcus said. “From this moment on.”

“I see,” she said faintly.

“Secondly, you must appear as a couple—a cordial couple—several times a week—”

“Three,” Mrs. Higginbotham said.