“My father’s name was Jonathan Marsh and he was the Duke of Tremaine’s physician,” she began. “Over the course of their decades-long acquaintance, the two became friends. Peter—my late husband, that is—valued my father’s advice and sought his counsel often. They also met to play chess and to simply talk about all manner of things between heaven and earth. After my grandmother died, I accompanied my father on all of his visits to Tremaine House. I was five when I first met Robert and his father.”
“What about your mother?” Mr. Steadford asked. “Was she not able to take care of you during these visits?”
“She died when I was born,” Viola quickly told him.
“So you knew the former duke very well,” Mr. Steadford noted.
She nodded. “Yes. He became something of an affectionate uncle to me.” Seeing Mr. Lowell’s eyes go wide, she realized her mistake and hastened to add, “He didn’t take advantage of me if that is what you think. The duke was kind to me. He and I never...” She closed her eyes briefly and fought for strength, then forced the necessary words past her lips. “We never consummated the marriage.”
“Because he was too infirm?”
“Well yes, he was. The poor man was dying and drew his last breath the day after our nuptials, but even if that hadn’t been the case, he would not have made such a demand of me.”
Silence followed, interrupted swiftly by the scratch of Mr. Steadford’s pencil. Unable to look at either gentleman, Viola kept her gaze firmly on the surface of her desk. Her cheeks had grown unbearably warm and her dress had started to itch.
“When my father got sick,” she said when Mr. Steadford prompted her to continue, “he went to Tremaine and asked for a favor, even though I never knew about this until later.” She pulled a shuddering breath into her lungs and released it, then carefully raised her gaze to the two men sitting before her. “I was fifteen when my father died. After the funeral, I learned that Tremaine had promised him he’d always look out for me because I had nobody else left in the world who would care enough to do so.”
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes but she forced them back. “Four years later when Tremaine caught a serious case of influenza and it became clear he would not live much longer, he suggested we marry.” She could still recall his pained expression and the fear he’d had of failing her and her father by not fulfilling his promise. “I was against the idea at first because I knew the rest of his family would resent me.”
“But he convinced you?” Mr. Steadford asked.
“He believed a powerful title would open up doors for me, and the more he talked about it, the more I started believing it might be true. And then when he told me of the idea he and my father had once discussed, of creating a well-run hospital with free care, and that I was the only one able to fulfill this dream, I felt I had no choice but to accept.”
Mr. Steadford frowned. “Do you remember if his will specified what the money he left you was meant to be used for?”
“Yes.” Viola recalled every detail. “The majority was set aside for the hospital. The rest was willed directly to me, to spend as I saw fit.”
“The rest?” Steadford asked.
Viola nodded. “My husband left his entire fortune to me—a total of twenty-three thousand pounds, of which eighteen thousand was spent on the hospital; acquiring the building, renovating it, buying equipment and hiring staff. He left nothing to anyone else.”
The solicitor looked stumped while Mr. Lowell...
To Viola’s surprise, he looked as though he’d already been made aware of this fact. By Robert, no doubt.
“If you’ll forgive me for saying so, Your Grace,” Mr. Steadford muttered, “I begin to comprehend Tremaine’s desire to fight you.”
“Ordinarily, I would happily give him the money he feels entitled to.” She didn’t know if they believed her, but it was the truth. She didn’t need much for herself to get by on. “The problem is I’ve spent almost all of it.”
“On the hospital?”
This question came from Mr. Lowell, and Viola couldn’t help but scoff. “Well, it certainly wasn’t wasted on an extravagant lifestyle.” He knit his brow, as did Mr. Steadford. Viola sighed. “A small part of it went toward the house I purchased for myself. It’s not very grand, in case you’re wondering, but it’s good enough for me.”
“Seems like it may have been an unnecessary expense,” Mr. Steadford said. “Why not remain at Tremaine House?”
“Because I did not wish to.” Irritated by the line of questioning, Viola stared straight back at Mr. Steadford. “The money was mine to do with as I pleased.”
“Yes,” Mr. Steadford agreed. “But I still need all the facts. For example, if you had been turned out of Tremaine House upon your husband’s death, I might have been able to use that to our advantage.”
“It wouldn’t change anything. I will be painted a fortune huntress by Tremaine no matter what, so even if he had turned me out, I doubt I’d get much sympathy from anyone.”
“You would from me,” Mr. Lowell said without even blinking.
His unwavering support undid a knot behind her breastbone. It mattered that he saw her for who she was instead of the scheming opportunist Society had turned her into.
“As nice as that may be,” Mr. Steadford said, bringing Viola’s focus back to the subject at hand, “it is not very helpful.” He leaned forward ever so slightly and pierced her with his sharp blue eyes. “Tell me, what was your husband’s state of mind like in the days leading up to his death?”
Viola’s thoughts started tumbling through her head, collapsing like a house of cards blown over by a puff of air. As much as she wished it, she could not run from the truth. Not when it was one of Robert’s strongest arguments against her.
