The reading of the will took forever, Julia thought a long time later. Viola’s yawns became perpetual and peevishuntil Susan leaned across Julia and shushed her sister. Along list of servants had to be read through and the bequestto each described. Every family member had been leftsomething, even Viola, who was merely a niece on the latecountess’s side of the family. Viola stopped yawningabruptly when the solicitor’s voice announced that she hadbeen left a hundred pounds. She clasped her hands to herbosom and smiled with delight.
“That is more than Papa has given me in pin money my whole life,” she whispered.
She must come next, Julia thought. Everyone else in the family had now been dealt with since Viola was theyoungest niece. Only she was left. Despite her convictionthat her grandfather would have looked after her, her heartbeat uncomfortably. No, it was not beating. It was thumping—against her chest and in her throat and against hertemples and in her ears. She felt as if there were no air leftin to room.
“ ‘There remains only Primrose Park and all its farms and rents,’” Mr. Prudholm was reading. He paused as hehad paused so often during the reading of the will. The lateearl’s solicitor had something of a flair for the dramatic.
Only Primrose Park. That was all that was left to bequeath. The family waited silently and expectantly. And yet all of them had been named and dealt with already. All except Daniel, of course, who did not need anything from thewill since he had already inherited the title and the bulk ofthe former earl’s property. Who was to be named again asowner of Primrose Park? Aunt Millie? But Aunt Millie hadalready been left a handsome portion.
Julia’s heart was beating so fast that she thought she must faint. She clasped her hands in her lap and lookeddown at them. Grandpapa had meant it, then, when he hadsaid that she must marry or prepare to go to her own relatives after his death. He could not have left her PrimrosePark. Could he? Even as her head denied the possibility,her heart raced with hope and the sure knowledge that therecould not be hope.
“ ‘Primrose Park,’ ” Mr. Prudholm read in his slow distinct way, “ ‘will belong to whicheverof my five nephews’ ”—Julia bowed her head, and closed her eyes andconcentrated on holding on to her dignity—“‘can win the hand of my deceased daughter’s stepdaughter, Julia Maynard, within one month of the reading of this will.’ ”
At first Julia did not react. There was a shocked murmuring about her, someone—Aunt Eunice?—was blessing her soul, and Julia’s eyes gradually opened and focused on herclasped hands. What?Whathad Mr. Prudholm just said?
The solicitor must have been holding up a staying hand. The murmuring ceased rather abruptly.
“ ‘The announcement of a betrothal is to be made to my solicitor, Tobias Prudholm, in this very place one monthfrom today,” ’ Mr. Prudholm’s voice read as Julia’s headcame up to stare at him in disbelief.“ ‘If no such announcement is made, then Primrose Park and its properties andfarms will be given to a charity of my choice, to be namedon that same day one month from now. Julia Maynard willbe sent, at the expense of my estate, to live with her paternal relatives in the north of England.’ ”
Julia was on her feet, clutching the back of the chair in front of her and forcing Uncle Paul to lean forward. “Thisis preposterous!” she said. “He must have been joking. Hecannot have been serious. There must be some mistake.”
Mr. Prudholm held up a staying hand again, but Julia did not sit down. “Miss Maynard,” he said, quietly, reasonably,“your grandfather was concerned for your future. Hewished to secure it for you as best he was able. I am sureyou are aware, as your five male cousins must be, thatPrimrose Park is a remarkably prosperous estate. It hasbeen your home for most of your life. It can remain yourhome for the rest of your days if you choose to accept anoffer from one of your stepcousins within the next month.But there is no compulsion on you. Neither your grandfather’s will nor I can compel you to accept any offer. Thewill makes provision for that eventuality.”
Julia glanced about her blankly, hardly noticing the stares of uncles and aunts, some of them as blank as herown, some curious, one hostile. Her eyes locked with Frederick’s as he leaned against the pianoforte. His lips werepursed and he was looking back at her from narrowed eyes.
It was impossible to know if he was amused or not. She turned her head and caught the profile of another cousin.Daniel. A sharp, handsome aristocratic profile. His darkhair was immaculately tidy as it always was. He was looking at the solicitor with polite interest just as if the clause ofthe will that had just been read had nothing whatsoever todo with him. She wanted to scream some obscenity at himbut knew none.
Aunt Millie was turned in her chair and was nodding and smiling sweetly. “A wonderful idea, dear,” she said toJulia. “I knew dear Humphrey would do something handsome for you and he has.”
“Hush, Millie,” Aunt Eunice said, patting her sister’s hand.
A hand touched Julia’s arm. “Sit down, Jule, do,” Susan said quietly. And Julia sank back into her chair, feelingfoolish and conspicuous. One just did not interrupt thereading of a will. Lesley was looking back over his shoulder from the row in front and smiling sweetly at her.
Mr. Prudholm drew the attention of the room’s occupants again with his professional cough. “One other point, my lords, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “and then we willbe finished.” He returned his eyes to the earl’s will andread. “ ‘My whole family is requested or invited to remainat Primrose Park for the duration of the courtship of mygranddaughter. It will be the last time I can be consideredto be your host. Let it be a good month of family entertainment, then. No black clothes. I’ll not have anyone inmourning here after today. You have all been wearing it fora week or longer. Put it off again tomorrow. That is myfinal command as head of the family.’ ”
“But we brought nothing but black,” Aunt Roberta protested.
Uncle Henry squeezed her hand and told her that a carriage would be sent home to bring different clothes. The matter could be accomplished in two days.
Aunt Millie dabbed at her eyes with a large linen handkerchief borrowed from Uncle Raymond, and Aunt Sarah was heard to remark that her brother-in-law had been impossible. Quite impossible. Who had ever heard of anythingso outrageous? It was not clear to which clause in the willshe referred.
Julia stared at her hands and fought embarrassment and bewilderment. And panic. She concentrated very hard onnot crying. He had owed her nothing. For sixteen years hehad given her a home and all the comforts she could havedesired. He had tried to secure her future. Most important,he had given her love. He had owed her nothing.
But she felt betrayed. And hurt. And very frightened.
The reading of the will was over. Mr. Prudholm was packing up his papers. The servants were filing out andclearly bursting with the need to return belowstairs asquickly as possible so that they could talk freely. The noiselevel in the drawing room was rising.
“Jule.” Viola gripped Julia’s hand and squeezed hard. “You lucky, lucky thing. Just a few words from Uncle’swill and you have five beaux. You are going to be betrothed within the month. I wish—oh, I wish I were in your shoes.”
“How foolish, Vi,” Susan said. “It would not work for you. One of those beaux is our own Gussie, and Malcolm isour first cousin.”
“But Daniel,” Viola said with a sigh. “And Freddie. Oh, Jule! You could be a countess immediately or a baroness atsome time in the future.”
“And Les,” Susan said. “Lesley is the sweetest of them all.”
Stella had pushed her way through the crowd and set an arm about Julia’s shoulders. “The lady of the moment,” shesaid. “So you are going to be able to stay at Primrose Parkafter all, Jule. I am so happy for you. Mama and Papa wereplanning to bring you back home with us to live, and Iwould love that more than anything. But even so—to beable to stay on as mistress of Primrose Park!” She laughedlightly. “But you must choose Malcolm, of course. Then wewill be sisters-in-law.”
“Oh,” Viola said. “Then it must be Gussie, Jule. You and Gussie have always been the best of friends anyway.”
