Thirty-Eight
AURELIA
In the twoweeks since Aunt Sarah’s funeral, I have prepared my final college project for review before commencement, had Liam almost potty-trained, and even started dating. Well, not really dating, but Margaret got me set up on one of the swiping apps.
Lady Jameson was such a help in my two weeks off. I had intended to come back to work, but neither she nor Lady Maier would hear of me returning while my aunt was in such condition, and certainly not as I was planning her not-funeral. But Lord Maier’s mother kept to my schedule fairly well, and I had little trouble slipping back in after the not-funeral.
Part of the training at Merryton includes lessons in self-defense. We have to be able to protect the children under our charge from attack or kidnapping.What a world we live in.Learning to fend offattack for ourselves is one thing, but to do that while keeping a child safe, sometimes multiple children, is a whole other beast. And then managing that all while in our uniform dresses and gloves. It’s like a Mary Poppins fight club in the basement today.
We want to take the training seriously. It’s serious business, what we’re about to be out in the world doing, but the hilarity of sixteen women wrestling men and practicing breaking holds and diversion maneuvers in calf-length navy blue dresses with Peter Pan collars is not lost on any of us.
I’m partnered up with a man who has nearly half a foot of height on me and at least sixty pounds. Every move he teaches, every bit we practice, involves using his strength and size against him, all while keeping one hand on the practice stroller with my pretend charge inside.
We’re all a little sweaty and tired when we trudge up the stairs for lunch. Before I make it to the dining hall, Dean Michael catches me and takes me to her office. I feel I’ve spent quite a lot of time in this office this year; when I got permission to go with the Maiers on tour, several times during my leave while Aunt Sarah was dying, and just last week to discuss future positions. The Maiers had put in a request for me to come on full-time after commencement in June. Of course, I accepted.
Aunt Sarah’s solicitor is waiting in the office when we arrive. Mr. Ziegenhagen is a short, wiry man who’s starting to go bald on top but with one little whisphanging on right in the middle. Add enormous glasses, and the resemblance to a mole is complete.
He shakes my hand, greeting me by name. We’ve worked together quite a bit since my aunt’s stroke. Dean Michael sits behind her desk, and the solicitor and I take the chairs in front of her. It always feels like I’ve been called to the principal’s office, regardless of lack of wrongdoing.
Mr. Ziegenhagen clears his throat. The dean slides a glass of water towards him.
“Miss Sumner,” he begins after he nearly drains the glass. “I’m afraid I may have some distressing news.”
“The last relative I cared for is dead, sir. I’m not sure how much more distress you could cause.”
His eyes are wide, and his mouth hangs open just a bit.Not the response he was expecting, I guess.
He shakes his head as if to clear it and continues. “We have located your uncle, Jonas Graf. He was the next in line to inherit your aunt’s estate and title.”
“Was?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He wrings his hands, and it’s no wonder this man handles estate law; the criminal defense lawyers would eat him alive. “I am sorry to tell you that Jonas Graf is deceased. Has been for some time, apparently.”
He watches me like he expects an emotional outburst at any minute. But I never knew my uncle. He was my father’s brother, but he had already left for god knows where by the time I was born, and no one in the family has seen him since. He kept in contact for awhile, but never in a manner that would allow anyone to find him. Aunt Sarah told me when the letters and phone calls stopped, she didn’t think much of it and never tried to find out any more information. The assumption was always that when he was ready to be found, he would make himself known. It had only taken the hired investigators a month to find him.
“Thank you, Mr. Ziegenhagen. I appreciate all the help you have been during this time.”
“It has been an honor to work for Lady Graf these many years, ma’am.”
The room goes silent, and I look between the dean and the solicitor, searching for any sign that this is over so I can grab a quick bite of lunch before we start afternoon classes.
“Is that all?” I finally ask.
“Well, no, Miss Sumner.” The lawyer is still wringing his hands. “See, there’s still the issue of inheritance. The next in line would have been your father, ma’am.”
And even if he hadn’t renounced his title when we left the country when I was little, he’s been dead for nearly six years.
“Oh.” I gasp, the gears at once catching in my brain. “Oh, you mean to tell me that…”
I can’t say it. My mouth won’t form the words.This is insane, right? Or I’m dreaming. There’s no way that I’m?—
“Miss Sumner, you are the last remaining member of Lady Graf’s family. With the confirmationof the death of the apparent heir, you become the heir presumptive. The estate, title and all, passes to you.”
I think my lungs have forgotten how to work.
“What about Uncle Jonas?” I manage to croak with my dry throat and no air in my body. “He had no children?”
“None legitimate at the least, ma’am.”
