Chapter Eighteen
Lanora hurried up the steps to Lethbridge’s office. She believed William would return with answers. She truly did. She could not wait, though. She would not sit wringing her hands and fretting, waiting on another to do for her what she could do herself. The attorney would know what transpired, and she would get it from him, or his lockbox. Whichever proved easier.
The outer door stood open, but the one at the top of the steps was closed, locked. She pressed her lips together. She’d come prepared this time. She carried her lock picks and a pistol in her reticule.
Lanora looked down the steps. The open outer door suggested Lethbridge and his clerk weren’t done for the day. She had no way to know when they might return.
She set to work on the door. If the worst came to pass, she would simply hide, as she had before. At least this time she’d be able to escape if she got locked in.
It was a simple lock. She slipped inside and closed the door. With enough light, and knowing what she sought, it took only a moment to get down the strongbox. She set it on Lethbridge’s desk. Opening it was trickier, for the lock was better than the one on the door, but not insurmountable.
After long moments, tension coiling tight in her gut, the lock gave way with an audible click. Inside were two documents. Both appeared to be wills. Lanora set them side by side, reading. They belonged to the Marquess of Westlock, William’s father. He’d been telling the truth.
Further examination showed the signed document left everything to William. Oddly, there was a section specifying that nothing of any sort was to be left to his stepmother, Lady Cecelia, the marquess’s third wife. Lanora frowned. If Lady Cecelia was of ill health and residing on the Mediterranean, why cut her from his will? The old marquess had also left only a small sum for his daughter, Lady Madelina.
Lanora picked up the other document. She could see it also went to lengths to make it clear that Lady Cecelia was to have nothing. Aside from that, the remainder was very different from the signed document. Everything that wasn’t entailed went to Lady Madelina, a girl of sixteen.
Lanora frowned. A girl of sixteen. She flipped to the last page. It specified that Lethbridge was to be the girl’s sole guardian and have complete control over her assets.
“It’s Lady Madelina he intends to marry,” she whispered.
“And marry the girl, I shall.”
Lanora spun.
A thin, balding man stood in the doorway, pistol pointed at her. “Lady Lanora. How good of you to call.”
“Mr. Lethbridge.” She clutched her reticule in one hand. Was there any means of freeing her pistol that wouldn’t rouse suspicion?
“This is very inconvenient of you. I was just on my way to have that signed, which will render you irrelevant.”
Lanora’s gaze went to the document in question, then back to the pistol. “Then I don’t matter now.”
“Ah, but you do. I heard what you said.” Lethbridge frowned. “Where you came by the notion I don’t know, but I can’t have you spreading that about.”
Could she distract him, perhaps engage him well enough he wouldn’t notice if she drew her pistol? She wouldn’t have believed he would shoot, but he had the weapon cocked and she’d heard his cold-blooded words the night she was locked in.
“What do you mean, you’re on your way to have the second will signed?”
He grinned, showing uneven teeth. “Not finding Lord William as attractive without his fortune? I can’t say I blame you. The man’s a wastrel.”
Anger shot through her. “I daresay he’s a better man than you, Mr. Lethbridge.”
“What’s this?” Lethbridge’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t tell me you actually care for Greydrake? A more useless bounder can hardly be found in the whole of England. I took you for more intelligent than that.”
“I will not stand here and be insulted,” Lanora said at her coldest. “I suggest you claim your document and leave, sir. I believe your master is in ill health. You wouldn’t wish him to expire while you’re away.”
He cringed. Lanora dared to hope her tone worked. Lethbridge would be accustomed to obeying officious lords and ladies. His gaze touched on the pistol he held. He smiled and stood straighter.
“Greydrake is so disreputable, in fact, the world might blame him if the woman he’s courting vanishes,” Lethbridge muttered. He shook his head and focused on her. “I’m not certain what to do with you, Lady Lanora. Until I decide, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in there.” He gestured toward the door of the small records room.
Lanora could free herself as soon as he left, but what about William’s inheritance, and his poor sister? She couldn’t let Lethbridge hold guardianship over an innocent young girl. It was unthinkable. She had to stop him from taking the will to the marquess. Unsigned, it was meaningless.
“Why has the marquess agreed to sign this?” She tapped the pages. With her other hand, she carefully worked at the closure on her reticule, but it was fastened tight. “Am I not a suitable bride?” She lifted her chin, as if insulted.
He looked her up and down, his gaze speculative. “I’m sure you’d be a wonderful bride. A bit headstrong, but that can be beaten out of you. Sole heir to a fortune, as well. Rest assured, it’s not your qualities.”
“Why then?” she pressed, actually curious now. She was on William’s list of choices, not that she’d admit knowledge of the page to Lethbridge. Had word already reached the marquess that William said he loved her, as she feared it would?
