Walter prowled restlessly around the library until the door opened and Franklyn entered. He was something over forty but aging well, still a fine figure with abundant dark hair. He had been a successful attorney for many years, marrying his partner’s daughter and then raising Bea alone after his wife’s death. When he unexpectedly came into great wealth, however, he reinvented himself as a stylish gentleman, swept a duke’s daughter into marriage, and bought Highwood Place for her to preside over his table when she was not mingling with her grand relations. Walter thought himself tolerably well dressed, but Franklyn always put him in the shade.
“Ah… Lord Birtwell! I thought Hobbs said… but no matter. Bea will be very glad to see you, I am sure. But you have something you wish to say to me?”
“Not Lord Birtwell,” Walter blurted. Now that it had come to the point, he was unsure how to explain his situation. His father’s example was before him, however, so, seeing the puzzlement on Franklyn’s face, he went on hastily, “My parents were married by Nicholson, our chaplain, but it turns out he was never ordained. So…”
“The marriage is invalid?” Franklyn said. “Then you are—”
“A bastard. Yes. I cannot inherit the title or father’s estates.”
Silently, Franklyn moved to a console where decanters and glasses stood, poured something and pushed a glass into Walter’s hand. “And you have come, very properly, to tell me of it… and to tell Bea that she will not be a countess after all. You are an honourable man, Birtwell. No… I beg your pardon, not Birtwell. Mr Atherton. I understand now why you told Hobbs to announce you thus. But this will make no difference to your marriage? The house your father promised you—?”
“He will honour that agreement, and the increased allowance, too.”
“He is a good man, your father. And for my part, I see no reason to object to the match. You will have Bea’s fortune, and I can do something extra for you. I shall not be depriving my other children if I give you another ten thousand… twenty thousand, shall we say. Then you would have sixty thousand in total, as well as the house and your father’s allowance. We shall have to adjust the settlements accordingly, but that is the work of a moment. I cannot compensate you for the income that would have been yours as earl, but I can make sure you can live as a gentleman.”
“You are very generous, sir. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your understanding.”
“No, no, say nothing about it. Bea is all I have of my dear Eloise now, and I would not wish her to be made unhappy by this change in circumstances. So who now stands to inherit? Your uncle, of course. What a shock for him! I well know how even the best of fortune can upset one’s life.”
Walter let him rattle on, not attending. So his future was settled. He would live in that tiny house in the village, himself and Bea and a growing number of children, and no expectation now of ever leaving it for the castle. Perhaps that was unfair — Langley Villa was not exactly a rustic cottage. It had been the Dowager Countess’s home until she grew too frail and removed to the castle, and it was more than adequate for one elderly lady. But a large family? Even though they would be barely a mile from the castle and would still have access to the park, it would feel very cramped. There would be no escaping—
Escaping what? That was an odd thought. What did he wish to escape?
But Franklyn’s musings required at least a small part of his brain and prevented him from considering the point seriously. Then Bea and her mother arrived, and Walter was forced to adopt his respectful demeanour. Lady Esther always had that effect on him. She was never less than meticulously polite, butcenturies of aristocratic breeding gave her a degree of hauteur that always made him feel like an unworthy supplicant in her august presence.
“Lady Esther,” he murmured, bowing over the hand she graciously held out to him.
Bea got a quick nod, but then she never curtsied to him, so she could hardly expect any greater courtesy. Today, she slipped one arm through his, smiling up at him. “Why did you not join us on the terrace, Walter, instead of calling us into the stuffy library? There is a most refreshing breeze outside.”
“There is some information to impart to you, Bea,” her father said.
She noted his sombre tone, and looked puzzled.
“Atherton?” Franklyn said. Even Lady Esther displayed a delicate wrinkling of her highbrow at this form of address.
Walter looked helplessly back at Franklyn, who nodded slightly, and proceeded to give the ladies a summary of the salient points. It was more gently phrased than Walter would have managed, and also more comprehensive.
“So he will not be an earl?” Bea said eventually.
“No, but that need not affect your plans,” her father said. “Lord Rennington and I are of one mind on that, and you need not worry about money, Bea. Your settlement will not be any the worse for this change in Mr Atherton’s circumstances.”
“What about the castle? He will have that, surely?”
“It is entailed, Bea,” Walter said. “Almost everything is entailed. Not Langley Villa, fortunately, so we shall still have a place to live.”
“But you are still your father’s eldest son. He cannot cut you out completely.”
“Lord Rennington has no choice, my dear,” Franklyn said. “When property is entailed, then, like the title, it can only go to the eldestlegitimateson.”
“So… Eustace gets it?”
“He is illegitimate, too,” Walter said. “We are all illegitimate, Bea. Father hasnolegitimate children, no heirs. We are all disinherited. The title and estates will go to Father’s younger brother, Uncle George.”
“And then Bertram,” she said, with a look almost of triumph. “Very well, I shall marry Bertram instead.”
“Bea!” her father said, shocked. “Surely you cannot… there is no need… were you only ever interested in Walter for his title, then?”
“Oh no, for he is much better looking than Bertram, but I should very much like to be a countess, Papa. I certainly will not marry a man who is not even a proper son and cannot inherit. I have forty thousand pounds, after all, so I am entitled to marry into the peerage, or at least a baronet. Even Sir Hubert’s wife is Lady Strong, and I want to be a proper lady, too. If Walter cannot do that for me, then I will not marry him. May I go now?”
