Taken aback by the news that the Hall was mortgaged, Claire resolutely attempted to avoid Carter’s meaningful smile in her direction. He seemed expectant, excited almost, as though the contents of the will were already known to him.
‘… being of sound mind do bequeath my estate in its entirety to my granddaughter, Claire, on the condition that she marries one of my grandsons, such choice being an obvious one … He did insist on writing this himself,’ Mr Coverdale murmured uncomfortably, as if the unearthly silence that had fallen and Claire’s shocked stillness had penetrated even his bland good humour. ‘You see, he believed it would take a man to run his business affairs, Miss Fletcher, but Mr Carter Fletcher assured me that you were only holding off from a formal announcement out of respect for you grandfather’s demise. Or am I premature in mentioning the matter?’
Shattered by Carter’s unforgivable machinations to line his own pockets, Claire was incapable of speech.
‘Congratulations.’ Sandra kissed her cheek with newly discovered cousinly affection. ‘It’s by far the fairest arrangement.’
Claire’s teeth sank into the soft underside of her lower lip and she tasted blood. ‘It’s iniquitious … humiliating …’ Her stifled voice wasted away.
‘Claire, you’re overwrought.’ A heavy hand came down to pat her shoulder.
Instinctively she flinched from Carter’s proprietorial hold, too disgusted even to look at him. Well, his visits to their grandfather had certainly paid good dividends! ‘What happens if I don’t marry Carter?’ she asked.
The solicitor looked distinctly uneasy. ‘The will doesn’t specify which of your male cousins,’ he added as if he believed this might be of some help to her.
‘I’m engaged!’ Steve burst out abruptly.
Dane gave up the ghost and laughed with unholy amusement.
Celia rounded on him like a tigress. ‘It’s all very well for you to laugh,’ she snapped. ‘The money means nothing to you!’
Dane dealt her a sardonic smile. ‘Was that your Roller or someone else’s I saw at the cemetery? Good God, none of you are broke except Claire,’ he breathed contemptuously.
‘I shall continue now,’ Mr Coverdale cut in hurriedly before hostilities escalated afresh. ‘There is a small bequest and … an alternative. To my grandson Dane, I bequeath my Bible.’ A pindropping silence fell. ‘To James and Celia, nothing because …’ He hesitated fatally.
‘Nothing?’ Celia screeched incredulously. ‘Because of what?’
The solicitor breathed in like a man girding his loins. ‘Because during my lifetime I on several occasions advanced certain monies to my son James, which he did not repay although I did remind him of the debts …’
‘Come, James.’ Celia arose majestically. ‘Steven! We’re not staying here any longer.’
‘And in the event of my granddaughter Claire pursuing that relationship which I did not approve of and no marriage taking place with my grandson, my estate, is to be sold and the proceeds given to the Temperance Society.’
‘Who shall I serve first?’ Maisie asked as she noisily wheeled in the tea trolley.
Carter cleared his throat. ‘What relationship, Claire?’
She got up quickly. ‘I believe that’s my business, Carter. Please excuse me for a moment, Mr Coverdale,’ she murmured and followed her aunt and uncle’s sweeping departure to the hall.
Steve clasped her hand, his boyish face wreathed with embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean …’ he began awkwardly.
‘I didn’t take offence.’ She forced a smile because she liked him. Clearly Celia’s behaviour had mortified him. How often had Adam embarrassed her in front of others? Once too often today, she thought, going down the steps to speak to her aunt and uncle.
‘Oh, it’s not your fault,’ Celia was saying petulantly to her hen-pecked husband. ‘I hated him. He was a miserable, cantankerous old goat and I don’t care if he was your father, James! I never had a polite word from him.’
‘Won’t you stay to dinner?’ Claire pressed unhappily.
Celia spun on her diminutive niece. ‘You have to be joking,’ she said cuttingly. ‘I wish you joy with Carter. He’s an Adam in the making!’
Her uncle squeezed her hand apologetically. ‘She doesn’t mean it, you know. Carter’s a fine young man.’
She watched them depart and then found Mr Coverdale already hovering in the hall behind her. ‘I had finished, Miss Fletcher. If you have any queries, please don’t hesitate to call.’
‘He left nothing for the staff here?’ In her anxiety she double-checked.
‘Unfortunately not. I’m afraid my client was not of a benevolent disposition,’ he said heavily.
What an understatement! Still in shock, Claire glanced into the drawing-room where Carter and Sandra were in close confab. Dane was nowhere to be seen. She suspected him of taking refuge in the library. Striving to calm herself down, Claire went into the kitchen. But what on earth was she going to do?