“Oh? Might this neighbor be a certain Mr. Harrison?” Stephen asked.
Kate grinned up at him. “It might indeed.”
Stephen exchanged a look of surprise with Sophie. His mother, he noticed, did not utter a negative word about the young man—which said a great deal. Apparently she had revised her opinion of David Harrison. And hopefully of Sophie as well.
After dinner, the ladies withdrew to the adjacent parlour, leaving Stephen, his father, and grandfather in the dining room. Mr. Overtree had his usual small glass of port, while the colonel puffed on an after-dinner cigarillo.
His father began, “As you heard at dinner, you just missed your brother. He was here briefly to formally apologize to Miss Blake. But it was too little, too late.” He set down his glass. “So I suppose this is as good a time as any to tell you of my decision.”
“Oh?” Stephen asked, with a curious glance at his grandfather, who appeared as solemn as his father did.
“Yes. I cannot in good conscience allow your brother’s actions, his blatant disregard for duty and family—and every good Christian impulse—to go on unanswered. I have you and Katherine to think of, not to mention Miss Blake and other ladies like her. I also have to consider the estate itself, the house and land and tenants—its future. I can no longer fool myself, or allow your mother to sway me for a little more patience where Wesley is concerned. No. Were the estate entailed, I would have no choice—it would go to Wesley in its entirety after my death. But the estate has never been entailed and I may do with it as I think best in my will. This has not been an easy decision, but I believe it is the right one. I have decided to disinherit Wesley as heir and future master of Overtree Hall. Yours are the hands to steer the estate, Stephen. Assuming you are willing.”
Stephen’s heart beat dully at the grave pronouncement. “You know I am always ready and willing to help, Papa. You needn’t make me your heir. I have my military career to think of, and—”
“My military career, I think you mean,” the colonel interrupted. “My aspirations for you.” He grimaced. “I should not have forced my chosen career on you, nor made service a condition of the trust I offered you. I’m sorry. I knew, deep down, it was never what you wanted.” He lifted a hand. “Don’t mistake me. You made me proud and served with valor. You always put your heart into anything you undertake. That is your nature. You commit without looking back, whether it be a career, a faith, a wife, a child... I admire that about you, my boy. And I know you will commit yourself in the same way to the preservation and improvement of this great estate.”
“But, Colonel... I am not yet thirty. I am no quitter. I don’t wish to let you or the army down.”
“I think a certain French saber has done that for you. That coupled with Boney’s exile. His last, if I don’t miss my guess. You might live on your half pay, but why should you, when you are heir to Overtree Hall? If your country still needed you, that would be one thing. But the war is over. For good, this time, God willing. You can sell your commission. Settle down. You have a wife to think of now. A daughter.”
“Yes, I have.”
“I am sorry, you know,” his father said. “About the way we treated Sophie when she first arrived, and after the scandal with Wesley came out. She isn’t the woman your mother and I would have chosen for either of you. But I understand why you did it. I hope Sophie will understand our concerns and forgive us in time.”
“And Mamma?” Stephen asked.
“Well, she may take a little more time to get over the whole ordeal.” He lifted a consoling palm. “Don’t mistake me. We admire you and respect what you did. And realize it is Wesley who is truly to blame for the situation in the first place. Not you. Hence our discussion here this evening.”
“Does Wesley know of your decision?”
“Not yet. The lawyers are working on the papers as we speak.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, it is more of a blow to your mother than to Wesley himself, who will probably be relieved to be freed of the responsibility... though not the financial benefits that come with it.”
Stephen suggested, “Perhaps you might rewrite the trust, Colonel. Leave Wesley a little something to soften the blow.”
His grandfather inhaled. “It did cross my mind. But I wasn’t sure it would be fair to you.”
“I didn’t serve to receive your money.”
“You served to please me. I know. And you have. I will not countenance leaving it all to him, but I would consider dividing it between the three of you—you, Wes, and Kate.”
“That is very kind of you, Grandfather.”
“Pfff.Not really. I may spend it all yet myself if I live long enough,” he teased. “A third of nothing is nothing.”
“You might have told me that before I rushed headlong into that French saber,” Stephen replied. And the two former military officers shared knowing grins.
In the white parlour, Mrs. Overtree, Sophie, and Kate sat together waiting for the men to join them.
Sophie had long ago guessed Wesley had broken Angela’s heart, but she had been stunned and grieved when Stephen had told her about the child. Now she said tentatively, “I was sorry to hear Miss Blake visits less frequently. She is... in good health, I trust?”
“I believe so,” Kate said with an uneasy little smile. “When I saw her in church on Sunday, I assured her she is more than welcome here, so hopefully she will call again soon.”
Mrs. Overtree changed the subject. “I have been thinking that we ought to host a christening dinner. Mary Katherine hasn’t been baptized yet, I trust?”
“No. Stephen wanted to wait and have her christened in the church here, with all of you in attendance.”
“Very thoughtful. Yes. It is a little unusual, waiting this long. But not unheard of to wait even longer, say, during an especially cold winter. No one wants to carry a little lamb out in the frigid weather, especially after being doused with water. Who shall serve as her godparents?”
