“Your father’s simply being efficient.” Leeland leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head. “A woman’s Finnances naturally become the husband’s concern after marriage. Your father was being proactive by making sure the details were settled before we wed.”
Mr. Dunning cleared his throat and gestured toward the open folder on his lap. “I assure you this is standard, Miss Caldwell. Upon marriage, assets can be legally consolidated. The contract we’ve put together ensures clear title and establishes Mr. Vandermeer as trustee in matters of long-term planning.”
“Trustee?” She twisted her hands together. “I think you mean owner.”
Mr. Dunning shifted in his chair but didn’t deny it.
“I don’t understand.” She turned back to her father and Leeland. “Why this? Why now?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” The condescending smile that had been curled across Leeland’s lips since the beginning of this conversation dropped from his mouth. “This needs to be settled before I go.”
“I thought you said it won’t go into effect until we’re married.”
“We need time to organize the transfer of funds.” Leeland flung a hand toward Mr. Dunning. “I don’t use the same bank or the same solicitor as your family, so there is much to be done, and it’s not the sort of thing that should be rushed.”
“Leeland is correct.” Her father was back to tapping his fingers on the desk, his rhythm more impatient than before. “You’ll be married in under five months. There’s no harm in beginning the transition now.”
It felt as though the room was closing in on her, or maybe the whole world. She wasn’t going to have a choice about signing the horrendous contract Mr. Dunning was holding. Not given how her father’s eyes were growing narrower and narrower. Not given the small muscle that was pulsing on the side of his jaw. He was probably already thinking of ways to punish her for her obstinance as soon as Leeland left.
“Sign the contract.” Her father pointed at Mr. Dunning. “Now.”
She stared at her father, panic rising in her chest. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t sign away something she’d worked so hard for. Here she’d been worried about what her father would do with her money if she left, but she hadn’t once considered what he might try to do with it when she married. How could she have been so foolish?
“Would you like to review the contract for yourself, Miss Caldwell? It outlines the asset transfer.” Mr. Dunning took one of the folders from his lap and stood, then removed a packet of papers and set them on her father’s desk. He waited for her to approach before continuing. “You’ll retain a personal allowance with minor discretionary access to the funds, but investment decisions and access to the whole of the account will fall to Mr. Vandermeer after the marriage.”
“And the charitable donations?” she rasped. “Will those be allowed to continue after the wedding? The same amount each month to the same organizations?”
Mr. Dunning glanced at Leeland. “That will be up to your future?—”
“Certainly not in their current state,” Leeland cut in.
“About that, Rosalind.” Her father pinched the bridge of his nose. “What were you thinking? Six thousand dollars a year in donations? This is the exact reason you shouldn’t be managing your accounts without oversight.”
She wanted to tell him that had he been overseeing things, he would have balked at her purchase of railroad stock and timber tracts, and the account would have grown only by about a quarter of its current rate. But she held her tongue.
“I might permit you to make a few small contributions each year, once I’ve had time to evaluate which of these institutions are reputable.” Leeland lumbered to his feet and approached the desk. “But five hundred dollars a month is excessive.”
“They’re orphanages and schools and relief programs for women without husbands.” She didn’t add that the women without husbands she supported were single because they’d been abused.
Leeland’s jaw hardened. “I won’t have my wife throwing money at street children for the sake of her conscience. We’ll make donations when they benefit our name, like your father has done with the new library.”
A scream built inside her chest, but she forced it down. She had to stay calm, had to keep thinking, had to make sure she understood as much as possible about this horrible contract—if for no other reason than knowing how to get out of it.
“What about if you die?” She slanted a glance at Leeland. Her fiancé was twenty-three years older than her. It was reasonable to think she’d outlive him. “Does the money revert to me then?”
“Your fiancé has grown children from his first wife,” her father answered. “They will naturally be entitled to their own share of Leeland’s assets, and control of his business will go to his oldest son. A dower arrangement has been laid out in the contract.”
“Wait. Are you saying that after Leeland dies, my mother’s money will go to his children?”
“You’ll get an annual salary of five thousand pounds,” Leeland snapped. “That’s plenty for you to live on.”
She was making that much off her investments right now, year over year, on top of her giving.
Mr. Dunning cleared his throat and tapped the top piece of paper. “If it pleases you, Miss Caldwell, I can draft an additional clause specifying charitable intent, and you can initial it. Mr. Vandermeer will still have final approval of spending once the accounts are merged, but the clause will be on record.”
On record. It was a meaningless promise, one Leeland wouldn’t bother to honor.
“This doesn’t go into effect until we’re married, correct?” She studied the first page of the contract, slowly reading the clause at the top.Upon the union of Leeland Russell Vandermeer and Rosalind Marie Caldwell in holy matrimony...
