Jo Goodman (38 page)

Of Colin, she had seen little. After returning from the burned out cottage, he offered to take the carriage to Glen Eden and return with Chloe. Sylvia went with him, leaving Mercedes to manage alone with the twins underfoot. Britton and Brendan were quiet upon hearing the news. They exchanged looks, not certain what they should say, then broke Mercedes's heart by offering their sympathies to
her.

Sylvia wept softly when she was told and she wept again with her sister at Glen Eden, but by the time they returned to Weybourne Park they had put most of their mourning behind them. They were sensible of the need to show the correct public face and were properly subdued while greeting guests and accepting condolences.

Mercedes went through the motions mechanically. She heard half of what people said to her and dismissed half of that. Over and over again she tried to catch Colin by himself, to explain, to say something that would make him understand that it had never been her intent to incriminate him. After several attempts, both obvious and subtle, she realized that he was purposely avoiding being alone with her.

It was easy for him to do. The legal affairs of Weybourne Park occupied him with his solicitor and he made himself available to Chloe, Sylvia, and the twins. He also spoke to Mr. Patterson at length and Mercedes knew that he had produced the lacquered case with his dueling pistols for the sheriff to examine. Colin never drew her aside to tell her what was discussed. At night she slept alone.

The earl's will was read on the afternoon following his internment. Mr. Gordon, a small, stiff man with a stentorian voice, had managed Weybourne's personal affairs for thirty years. He was particular to gather only those people who were named in the earl's will. It was a small group that met in the library. In the drawing room Colin, his solicitor, and Mr. Patterson waited to hear the outcome.

Mr. Gordon stood behind the earl's desk, smoothing the creases in the document in front of him. Marcus Severn and his father sat in chairs closest to the solicitor so the earl could hear. Chloe and Sylvia each had one of the boys in hand on the small sofas moved into the library for the reading. Mercedes sat behind them all, pale but composed, in the large wing chair at the back of the room.

Mercedes wished herself elsewhere. The reading was a matter of form, more than a matter of import. It did not matter what gifts her uncle bequeathed, he had no assets to pass on. There was no guarantee that the creditors could all be paid, and there was still Colin's claim against the estate to consider. The only thing of value as far as Mercedes was concerned was the title itself, and she supposed Severn had brought his father to make certain it came to them.

"I wish to get to the heart of this matter," Gordon announced in his strident voice. "I have a document here, signed and properly witnessed, which arrived in my office five days ago. Although I did not draw up the document, I find the language is all in order and there can be no doubt of the late earl's intent. This addendum modifies Weybourne's earlier will and exists as the only such modification to come to my attention." He paused to look at the family members and to allow this information to settle on them.

Mercedes had barely taken in the import of this news when she was faced with Severn's hard and critical look. He turned in his chair and stared at her, raking her face for some clue. She managed to school her features and maintain a serene presence though she had no idea what she could expect. When the girls glanced back uneasily, she smiled faintly and shook her head, reassuring them as best she could.

"Well," Gordon said at last. "If no one can produce another document to supersede this one, then I will continue." He smoothed the papers again, adjusted his spectacles, and began.

Utter silence met him at the end.

Severn's father was the first to speak. He stood, grasping his cane firmly, and said, "That's it, then. Weybourne finally did right by his family. Damn me if I thought I'd live to see it." He touched Marcus on the shoulder. "Let's go, son. There will be enough for the others to do without us being in the way."

Marcus came to his feet. He glanced back at Mercedes. "But perhaps Mercedes will want my counsel," he said. "I believe Wallace would want me to advise the family. It's not as if the child—"

The earl turned slightly so he could see Mercedes better. She was still looking rather stunned by the developments. "Is Marcus right, my dear? Will you want the benefit of his counsel? He has a good head on his shoulders."

Mercedes saw Marcus flush at his father's off-handed compliment. Nervous laughter tickled her lips and she pressed them flat to hold it back. "I'm grateful for the offer," she said graciously. "But I am confident that Mr. Gordon can guide us, and I would feel better if Marcus were to accompany you back to Rosefield."

The earl nodded. He held out his free arm for his son to take and then hobbled to the door. At the point of leaving he paused and, eschewing Marcus's help, he went to Mercedes. She was on her feet immediately and accepted his parting kiss on her cheek. "You're a good girl, Mercedes. Always thought so. Hope it goes well for you. Can't say that I ever wanted the Park."

"I understand," she said. "And thank you. I appreciate you coming." She led him back to Marcus and opened the doors for them. There was no one in the entrance hall when she looked out and she could only assume that Colin and Mr. Abernathy had retired to one of the drawing rooms. She could imagine that the sheriff had joined them. After leaving Severn and the earl in the good hands of Mrs. Hennepin, Mercedes returned to the library.

"What does it mean?" Britton wanted to know as soon as she closed the doors. "Sylvia says I'm to be the earl."

"That's right," Mercedes said calmly.

Britton's mouth was pulled to one side and he crossed his arms solidly in front of him. "Well, I don't think I want to be. What about Brendan? Is he an earl, too?"

"No. You're the first born son, so the title's yours."

Chloe sighed. "We've tried to explain."

"I'm sure you have. Britton, you've understood this for some time. I'm not sure what your real concern is."

"Well, everyone—even Sylvia—said he wasn't our father, but now he is. Or was, because now he's dead."

Mercedes laid a hand on his narrow shoulder. "I see," she said gently. "It's quite a lot to take in."

"Yes, it is, rather."

Britton's air of perfect gravity brought a smile to Mercedes's lips. "Mr. Gordon, you mentioned this addendum to my uncle's will came to your notice five days ago."

"That's correct," he said stiffly.

"And it's dated?"

"Why, yes. For the previous day."

"And you located the persons who witnessed my uncle's wish to recognize his sons?"

"I did." He cleared his throat. "It wasn't easy, I can tell you. Not the usual sort, but they appeared reliable."

"Who were they?"

"A Mr. Ashbrook and a Mr. Deakins," he said. Mercedes wavered slightly on her feet. Mr. Gordon skirted the corner of the desk, concerned. "Are you sure you're quite all right?"

"No... I mean, yes... I'm fine." She felt Sylvia and Chloe regarding her pale face closely. "I think, if you don't mind, I'll sit down again." Britton immediately slipped out from under her hand and offered his seat. "Can you tell me something about Ashbrook and Deakins," she said, recovering her composure. "I believe you said they were not the usual sort. What did you mean?"

"I mean they weren't in your uncle's circle of friends. Mr. Ashbrook is the proprietor of a tavern on the waterfront and Mr. Deakins books passages for the Garnet line."

"Didn't you find that odd?" she asked. "Why did my uncle ask them to witness this change in his will?"

Gordon's eyes slipped from hers to the other family members. He returned to Mercedes, consternation tightening his already stiff demeanor. "Are you quite sure—"

"You may speak in front of them," she said. "They're his children."

"Well," he said shortly. "I admit I assumed Weybourne was making plans to leave the country."

Mercedes nodded. "My thoughts also. Mr. Gordon, I'd like to invite Captain Thorne, his solicitor, and Mr. Patterson our sheriff to hear this piece of news. Sylvia. Chloe." They were on their feet before she had finished, taking the twins in hand and removing themselves from the library. "If you'd be so kind, Mr. Gordon, to ask the others to attend us now."

When the group was assembled Mercedes offered a brief introduction. "I think you will be interested in what Mr. Gordon has to say—especially you, Mr. Patterson."

The sheriff greeted Mercedes with a solemn nod, indicating he was willing to listen.

"Please, Mr. Gordon. Just as you explained it to us."

The solicitor pressed his spectacles firmly on the bridge of his nose and began by rereading the addendum to the earl's will.

Colin's attention was not on the reader or his reading. He sat back in the wing chair previously occupied by Mercedes and studied her from beneath his hooded glance.

She was sitting alone on the small sofa now, her hands folded quietly in her lap. There was less tension in her than he had seen in the last several days. Her gray eyes were clear again, not clouded with anxiety. Her brow was smooth and she had ceased worrying her lower lip. There was a faint wash of color in her cheeks, quite a contrast from the pale-as-salt complexion he had observed since she was first confronted with the earl's death.

Her black mourning clothes outlined her slender frame with a severity that was not unbecoming. Rather than weigh her down, the yards of material highlighted her form, making Colin think of his hands on her body more often, not less.

Colin had set himself the task of avoiding her. It was far easier to do than to stop thinking about her. He had to pretend he wasn't aware she wanted to talk to him, that he hadn't seen her try to catch his eye. He knew she wanted an opportunity to explain herself but he wasn't interested. When the anger finally left him, what he felt was betrayal... and loss.

She had handled herself admirably these last few days, taking charge of the arrangements for her uncle's funeral, allaying the fears of the staff, and answering questions that were put to her almost endlessly by her cousins about their future. He knew she had to be more uncertain of what the future held, yet there was never any hesitation in her voice. She talked about Chloe's wedding and the twins' schooling and Sylvia's Season as if nothing had changed.

He wondered how she thought he would honor his promises swinging from a rope.

Colin had not been able to acquit himself in the eyes of the sheriff, but no charges had been leveled. There were still the matters of a weapon, which had not been found, and timing, which was difficult to evaluate. Colin could give a good account of his whereabouts and have it verified by a number of different people. But with the time of death not really known, his alibis carried limited weight.

Looking at Mercedes now, he wondered that she could be so composed. It seemed to him that her uncle's sudden change of heart did not have any impact on her bearing. Perhaps his recognition of the twins was not so sudden, or at least not a surprise. If that were the case, then she had set it up beautifully. Once he was accused of Weybourne's murder, he would lose his claim on the estate and the Park would be in Britton's hand, and until he reached his majority, in Mercedes's capable—if slightly bloodstained—ones.

She was cunning. He would give her that.

Colin leaned back in his chair as Gordon droned on. Mercedes's profile was beautifully clear. He traced it with his eyes from her hairline to the base of her throat. As if she felt him watching her, she turned.

He did not look away and he noticed she did not have the grace to blush. She never did. Instead he saw tension run a course through her, first her head as it retracted and the chin came up, then the shoulders as they were braced. She drew in a breath, her torso stiffening as though receiving a blow, and her hands tightened in her lap. Her legs trembled at the strain of having her feet so firmly planted. And finally, in the moment before she turned away, he saw pride bring a certain chill to her clear gray eyes, leaving them quite capable of frostbite.

Colin wondered what the others would make of it if he crossed the room, pulled Mercedes to her feet, and laid his mouth across hers, because, perversely, it was the very thing he wanted to do right now.

Instead, he ran one hand through his hair, stretched his legs in a casual, even bored, posture and gave his attention back to Mr. Gordon. The solicitor had paused and was looking expectant.

"Thank you, Mr. Gordon," Mercedes said graciously. "You've explained the content of the amendment to my uncle's will thoroughly. I would like you to go over the dates of the changes, if you please."

Mr. Gordon nodded. "As I explained to the family," he said, "the earl made these changes only recently. I received this document five days ago, it being duly signed and dated the previous day."

Mercedes's head swiveled in Mr. Patterson's direction. "My uncle's body was discovered in the morning three days ago and we know it was there when the fire started some time after midnight. Mr. Gordon has proof that he was still alive a little over forty-eight hours before that event. That narrows your time of death significantly, doesn't it?"

Mr. Patterson did not respond quickly. His brow furrowed over his deeply set eyes as he considered the information. "Yes, it would appear so," he said carefully. "There were witnesses, I suppose." Now he looked to Mr. Gordon for confirmation.