Tremaine grunted and took a large gulp of his brandy. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Must be nice for her to be back in England,” Yates said.
“Oh, she died a few days after agreeing to leave the house,” Tremaine said. “Stepped on a snake in our driveway.” He snorted. “Bloody ironic if you ask me.”
Shocked by his friend’s blasé manner, Henry shared a brief look with Yates, who appeared equally dumbfounded. “I take it you don’t mourn the loss of her,” Henry muttered.
Tremaine stilled. His brow puckered. “Ours was a marriage of convenience. I didn’t know when I’d be coming back, so I wanted to settle my future before I left. Meanwhile, I believe the idea of leaving England excited Beatrice. She called it her grand adventure. But then she ended up seasick for most of the journey, and her romanticized view of traveling fell apart quickly. After that, there was nothing Anguilla could offer to make her happy.”
“You make an excellent argument for pursuing a love match, Tremaine,” Yates said. His voice was pensive. “Had you and your wife cared for each other, I believe the experience would have been altogether different.”
Tremaine snorted. “You’re too idealistic for your own good. True love is almost impossible to find. Especially amid the aristocracy.”
“I’ll grant you it won’t be easy,” Yates said, “but I am determined to try.”
“Then I wish you luck,” Tremaine said, “for I can assure you that you will need it.”
“Have you always been this cynical?” Henry asked. The man who’d returned from Anguilla bore little resemblance to the boy Henry had known in his youth. His character had hardened during his absence. The heartless manner in which he’d conveyed the details of his wife’s death made Henry very aware of this fact. Or perhaps he’d always been like this, and Henry just hadn’t wanted to face it. Like at Cambridge when the rumors about Tremaine’s violent tendencies started to spread. What if they’d all been true?
Tremaine shrugged one shoulder. “Experience has opened my eyes and shown me how cold, calculating and selfish women can be.” His expression cooled. “Take my stepmother, for instance.” Henry straightened in his seat while apprehension thickened in his veins. “She had the gall to marry an ailing man more than fifty years her senior.”
“Perhaps she cared for him,” Henry suggested. Having met Viola, he couldn’t imagine her being the scheming sort.
Yates made a strangled sound while Tremaine glared. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “That woman was nothing before she married my father. She’s still nothing as far as I am concerned, but now she’s a nothing with a bloody title to her name.Mytitle!”
“You’re clearly distraught over this,” Yates said, stating the obvious while looking increasingly uncomfortable with the negative turn of their conversation.
“Of course I am, and why shouldn’t I be?” Tremaine’s chest rose and fell with increased agitation. His mouth twisted and his eyes hardened. “That little conniving harlot stole from me!”
“What?” Henry couldn’t believe it. “Youarespeaking of Viola Cartwright, are you not?”
“Have you met her?” Tremaine asked. He grinned without humor. “Don’t be fooled by her plain appearance or by her pleasant demeanor. She took advantage of the confused state my father was in before he died.”
“You’re saying she tricked him?” Henry asked.
Tremaine nodded. “She made him rewrite his will the same day they married. He left everything to her—his entire fortune, save the entailed properties which weren’t his to give.”
“Bloody hell,” Yates murmured.
Henry seconded that notion without comment. What had happened to Tremaine was incredibly unfair. And yet he still couldn’t imagine Viola had plotted to claim a title and steal Tremaine’s rightful inheritance on purpose. There had to be another explanation.
“I don’t intend to let her get away with it, though,” Tremaine said after a brief moment of silence. He looked at his friends in turn. “I’m contesting the will. By the time I’m done, Viola will have to seek refuge in the poorhouse.”
“Have you informed her of this?” Henry asked as casually as he could manage.
“I took the pleasure of doing so a few days ago. As soon as I hired a barrister and confirmed I have a case I can win.”
Henry drummed his fingers lightly against his armrest. “You do realize this can drag on for years. The court loves nothing better than to grease its wheels with a client’s money. Your barrister won’t be in any hurry to close this case, Tremaine, and by the time he does, you could find yourself in debt.”
“Maybe. But letting the matter rest isn’t an option.” Tremaine stood and went to the sideboard, where he poured himself another measure of brandy. He downed it swiftly and set his glass aside. “There’s a lesson to be taught and an example to be made. Once I’m through, hell will freeze over before another woman dares to do something similar.”
“Then we owe you a debt of gratitude,” Yates remarked. He tilted his glass to salute Tremaine before finishing off his own brandy. He stood. “I have to go now. Wilmington and Hawthorne expect me to join them at White’s.”
“I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind,” Tremaine said.
“If you expect them to be the rakish fellows they were before you left, you’ll be sorely disappointed,” Yates said. “Both have married and settled down into domestic lifestyles.”
Tremaine sighed. “I swear, women have no purpose in this world but to destroy us.” He went to shake Henry’s hand. “Thank you for the drink, Lowell. I hope to see you again soon.”
