Langford returned with the ale. “Are you telling Stratton that he is casting a pall on the entire Season with his infernal brooding?”
Adam drank his ale, then set it aside. “I learned something. Several somethings. I now wish I had not.”
Neither friend prodded him. They just waited.
“I found a letter from your father to mine,” he said to Brentworth. He described what had been written.
Langford whistled. “So the earl would not let it rest when others had chosen to. There is no way to seek satisfaction with him dead, not that any jury would accept this as just cause for a challenge anyway.”
“That is not what haunts you, is it?” Brentworth asked.
“No.”
“Have you written to her and asked about it?”
Langford grasped the direction the conversation had taken. “Oh, hell. Yes, of course.” His expression turned frankly sympathetic.
“I have written the letter and had a copy made of a drawing of the jewelry in question to send along. I have not sealed and mailed it. In fact, I find myself avoiding the desk on which it lies.”
“Hell of a thing,” Langford muttered. “Small wonder you have looked like a man eager to thrash someone the last few days. If you send that letter you ask her to admit that she—that his death—I don’t think I could do it.”
“Can you live with not sending it?” Brentworth asked. “Live with not knowing, and allow it all to remain as it is?”
“That is the question that absorbs me.” Adam gestured to the publican for more ale. “Let us talk of other things, so I do not look like a man hoping for a fight. Tell me how it goes with your ladies.”
He had raised Langford’s favorite topic. His friend did not fail him.
* * *
At one o’clock, and still thinking about the conversation she would have with Stratton the next day, Clara called for her carriage and had Mr. Brady bring her to the City for an appointment with her solicitor.
Mr. Smithers greeted her himself. A young man fairly new to the law, he had been delighted to obtain such a distinguished client. She had gone to a great deal of trouble to find a lawyer who both came highly recommended and whom she trusted to resist anyone’s attempts to learn her private business. When Theo learned she had moved her private affairs to someone other than the family solicitor—who had informed Theo about her troubling decisions, out of concern, of course—there had been quite a row.
Now Mr. Smithers patted his blond hair, plucked his cravat into new creases, and smiled obligingly across the table in his chambers. He handed her the document he had prepared at her request that would give Althea half ownership inParnassus.
“You will see that she must pay you a shilling, so there is what we call consideration. However, as equal owners, you will share in any profit. I trust Mrs. Galbreath understands that she will also be equally responsible for any debts.”
Clara read the contract. There would be no debts.Parnassushad a benefactor who paid any costs beyond those covered by the subscriptions and sales.
“If you send me the copies, I will have them signed.”
“Very good, Lady Clara.”
On impulse, she raised another matter. “I am curious about something. If I marry, what that is mine remains mine?”
She surprised him. “Are you thinking to marry?”
“No. I am just curious.”
“I ask because there is a simple answer that may satisfy you. However, should you plan to marry, rather longer explanations might be wise so you understand thoroughly your situation. The simple answer is that all that is yours remains yours. However, your real property would be your husband’s to use and profit from during his lifetime. He could replace the tenants, or build villas, for example. The income would be his.”
“So I would lose control of the land. I thought as much but wanted to be certain.”
“Yes, and also the house you recently purchased. Had you used your legacy to buy dresses instead, those would be personal property. The house, however, is real property.”
“I knew about the land, but to also have some man given leave under the law to poach my house seems very unfair.”
Mr. Smithers chuckled. “Poachis an amusing word to describe it. Be of good cheer, however. A husband could use it or let it. He could not, however, sell it without convincing a judge you freely agreed.”
