TRISHA DAVID - Bride By Friday

Mr Edward Scott, junior partner, had agreed to her request for an appointment with reluctance, and Tess had allowed herself two days in London in case of problems. She expected problems.

She hadn’t counted on Charlie.

Charlie at her side, dressed to face city lawyers, was a presence indeed.

Tess wore a simple linen suit, soft blue and pressed into looking its best by Mary’s careful ministration. Tess looked neat and presentable but not an imposing presence at all. Charlie made up for it.

Charles Cameron had stood out among the suits in business class in the aeroplane, and Tess had thought it was because he was wearing casual clothes. It was no such thing. In a dark, impeccably cut business suit, Charlie would turn Just as many heads as he had in his moleskins. After a couple of hours on her wonderful bed, Tess emerged from her blue bedroom to find him waiting for her, and the sight of him just took her breath away.

The bruise on his eye had darkened but it took nothing from his appearance. Rather, it heightened the impression of strength, as if he’d just come from battle—victonous.

‘You...you don’t have to do this,’ she managed, trying not to stare. ‘I can go by myself.’

‘I’ve put on a tie especially,’ he said reproachfully. ‘Don’t quibble.’

That was the only protest she was allowed to make. Tess subsided and didn’t quibble at all.

Scott, Scott and McPherson was a firm of lawyers of long standing. Henry drove Charles and Tess to a building steeped in history, and the worn brass plate outside said that whatever historic events had taken place here, Scott, Scott and McPherson had been around long enough to see them.

Tess took a deep breath, looking at the ancient stone lions guarding the portals. If this place had been purpose built to intimidate, it could scarcely have been more successful.

‘Gird your loins here, lass,’ Charlie said beside her.

‘Together we can conquer anything—even lawyers.’

‘What exactly does gird your loins mean?’ Tess asked carefully, and Charlie chuckled.

‘Whatever it is, I just bet you can’t do it in pantyhose. Just don’t let anyone push you around. I’m with you all the way.’ He thrust the double doors wide and ushered her inside.

Tessa’s reception was just as she had suspected it might be. Mr Edward Scott, junior partner, kept Tess and Charles waiting for twenty minutes in an outer waiting room that was as uncomfortable as it was austere. Finally he condescended to show them into his inner sanctum. His welcome was wintry. He sat them on two uncomfortable chairs and asked how he could help them in the tone of one who didn’t expect to help them one bit.

Tess introduced Charles simply as Charles Cameron—for heaven’s sake, what else was she to call him? The lawyer gave Charlie a long, assessing look, but Charles was keeping a low profile. He listened patiently while Tessa was effectively brushed aside as having nothing to do with her sister’s affairs.

‘As I told you on the telephone,’ Mr Scott junior explained yet again, ‘the estate is being looked after by Mr Scott senior and he’s in the north at the moment.’

‘But I’d like to see my nephew, and maybe have access to some of my sister’s things,’ Tess said meekly. ‘There are family things... Christine and I were twins and...’

‘All that will be sorted out when the estate is finalized. And as for having access, I believe Mrs Blainey has objected. She feels the family resemblance will unsettle the child.’

‘You don’t believe it might be good for Ben to know he has an aunt who loves him?’ Charlie asked diffidently, and the lawyer flashed him a look of disdain.

‘Mrs Blainey thinks not,’ he said flatly. It was said as a statement not to be argued with.

‘Well, I need to see Mrs Blainey face to face,’ Tess managed. ‘Christine gave me her telephone number some time ago, but I don’t have her address. Could you at least give me that?’

‘Mrs Blainey will give it to you if she sees fit. Telephone her and ask her.’

‘I have.’ Tess swallowed. ‘She won’t.’

‘Then there’s nothing more to be said.’ The lawyer rose. The interview, it seemed, was over. ‘I’m sorry, miss, if you’ve wasted your time coming to England, but I did warn you.’

‘Just a moment.’ Charlie hadn’t moved. Now he brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his immaculate trousers and searched for more. ‘We wish to see a copy of Mrs Blainey’s will,’ he said softly. ‘Now.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ The lawyer’s face showed astonishment. ‘Mrs Blainey’s not dead.’

Charlie sighed as if the man was being obtuse and gave up hunting for dust on his trousers. ‘I meant Mrs Blainey junior, of course. Christine. Tessa’s sister.’ He looked up and met the lawyer’s eyes and his face was implacable.

‘We have the right to see her will,’ he said flatly. ‘I understand Christine’s husband was killed instantly in the car accident and Christine died some twelve hours later. My lawyer tells me that anything her husband left her is therefore Christine’s to dispose of. As Tessa is Christine’s twin sister and Christine was a widow at the time of her death, it appears reasonable to believe something may be left to Tessa. The will was lodged in this office. We wish to see it.’

And he went back to dusting his trousers.

The lawyer stared down at Charlie for a long moment—and then he cleared his throat. All of a sudden he was uncomfortable. ‘I believe Mr Scott Senior has taken the documents north with him,’ he said.

‘But you knew Miss Flanagan was coming here today.’ There was an iciness in Charlie’s voice that Tess hadn’t heard before. His eyes swept up to meet the lawyer’s. His look was flint and steel. ‘Find her a copy,’ he said. ‘Now.’

‘I don’t believe we can...’

‘You can,’ Charlie said. ‘If Mr Scott senior, removed the only copy of the will when he knew Christine’s sister was due here today, then he’s been irresponsible to say the least. It’s two on a Tuesday afternoon. I imagine Mr Scott senior is somewhere near a telephone. Contact him and get the will faxed here. We’ll wait for as long as it takes.’

‘I don’t know whether I...’

‘We’re waiting,’ Charlie said inexorably. ‘Do it.’

‘May I ask what role you have here?’ the lawyer demanded, trying desperately to regain ascendancy. He stared at Charlie down his long, thin nose. His lawyer’s stare was intended to disconcert but Charlie simply stared blandly back. Undeterred, the lawyer continued. ‘I didn’t catch your name. I believe if this is no business of yours then I must ask you to leave.’

‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Charles said softly. ‘I don’t know what game you’re playing here, sport, but I don’t intimidate as easily as that.’ He rose and placed a hand on Tessa’s shoulder. Pressed down with fingers that caressed as well as pressured. Sending tingles straight down to her toes and back again. But Charles was handing over his business card to the lawyer.

‘This is who I am,’ he said brusquely. ‘Tessa’s my affianced wife. We flew in together from Australia this morning and we intend to get some answers. And we want some answers. Now!’

Tess opened her mouth to speak—but no words came. Charles’ hand on her shoulder was urgently insistent and the sensation from his fingers was numbing all by itself. Sit back and say nothing, the hand said, and Tessa’s objections to what he’d just told the lawyer remained unvoiced.

The lawyer wasn’t watching Tessa to see her astonishment. He was astonished enough himself. He glanced down at Charlie’s business card and his jaw dropped a foot.

‘Lord Dalston... You’re Lord Dalston?’ His voice was frankly incredulous. Another glance at Charlie and he appeared to change his mind. Disbelief faded. Charlie’s bearing was every inch the aristocrat. ‘I’m sorry, but...’ He could barely stammer. ‘Lord Dalston...’