‘Perfectly,’ she declared. ‘Yes, indeed. I shall take these papers over to the desk, where the light is better.’
‘Of course.’
She sat at the desk and put on her spectacles to study them, but the print was tiny, the legal terms baffled her, and she didn’t have to look at him to know that he would be watching her like a hawk studying its prey. Somehow, she ploughed on through the details of the sale of two acres of land by Jemima Summerby to Daniel Carstairs, the Earl of Rivington, until at last she pushed them aside.
‘Well?’ he said. ‘Your comments?’
She rose to her feet to face him. ‘It does look, my lord, as if there was nothing improper about the transaction. But I need to know what kind of pressure my aunt was under, that forced her to make a decision which goes against everything I ever knew about her!’
Those cool blue eyes of his widened. ‘Are you trying to imply that your aunt sold the land to me against her will? That I perhaps used some kind of force to make her agree to my demand?’
‘How else am I to interpret an action that I know must have been completely alien to her? Plainly, Lord Rivington, you are used to getting whatever you want, but what tricks or threats did you concoct to get that piece of land from her?’
He walked over to the desk. Towering over it—and her—he said, ‘I put your aunt under no pressure whatsoever. I can only express my surprise that she didn’t tell you about it herself—but oh, I forgot. You haven’t visited her for…how many years is it, Iwonder? Did you even bother writing to her? And before you tell me lies, I know the answer already. She told me that you never wrote, and it distressed her. Nevertheless, she was desperate for you to inherit her house—but of course, you wouldn’t know that, would you?’
There was a lump in her throat. ‘I did write to her. I did! I sent long letters with all my news, but I never heard back from her!’
‘Your aunt wrote to you regularly. She told me so. You really disappointed her, you know.’
Kate was distraught. She hated him for this. She’d had no money for the journey, but she had still written to Jemima, regularly—and yet this man was saying that her aunt had never received her letters?
Her father used to deal with all the household post, so it was possible that he had intercepted the letters from Jemima and stopped hers from being sent. But why would he act so meanly? Whatever the truth of it, there was no point in suggesting this to Lord Rivington, because he had clearly assumed her to be guilty of ingratitude and neglect regarding her beloved aunt, and any further protests would only confirm his cynicism. She said, ‘My lord. Regarding the sale of the land, these documents do appear to show you have right on your side. But I have only your word for it that my aunt actually welcomed your offer!’
‘Are you really suggesting that I somehow forced her?’
‘I don’t know! Only you can be sure of what actually happened when you persuaded her to sell!’
‘I assure you, she accepted my offer gladly.’ The coldness of his words cut into her anew. ‘I have many faults, but no one has ever had cause to doubt my honesty, and I suggest you don’t test me on the subject further. I also suggest that this meeting is going nowhere and should be concluded.’ He was reaching to gather up his papers from the desk when he stopped and said suddenly, ‘Miss Summerby?’
‘Yes?’
The Earl simply pointed to where a small pool of black liquid was spreading ominously around the inkpot on the desk.
‘Oh, no!’ Kate snatched up the pot, thereby getting ink all over her fingers ‘Oh, what a mess. I must fetch blotting paper…’
‘I shall fetch it. Otherwise you’ll more than likely get the ink everywhere.’
She nodded miserably. She could have wept. ‘There is some in the bureau, over by the door.’
She stayed where she was, quite cast down. All her efforts at calm competence had been in vain. Even the inkpot had become her enemy, and just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, she heard the front door opening and Harriet calling out, ‘Kate. Kate! I’m back from the market!’
Kate moved hastily, intending to halt Harriet in the hall, but she was too late. Already the door into the parlour was flung ajar and Harriet was there. ‘Has the Earl gone, Kate? Do you still think the man is a crook?’
Because the bureau was just beside the door Harriet had opened, it had caught the Earl’s shoulder and he only just managed to steady himself against the wall. ‘Harriet!’ Kate was pointing desperately in his direction. ‘Harriet, please…’
Harriet gasped as the Earl stepped forward. ‘Oh, dear,’ she whispered.
The Earl walked back to the desk and laid down the blotting paper with an air of finality. ‘Ladies,’ he said, ‘I shall make my departure. But I have one final comment.’ He looked straight at Kate. ‘You accept, I trust, that my purchase of the land is proved correct by the documents I’ve shown you?’
By now Kate was really in despair. ‘As I’ve said, I see no obvious reason to doubt the legality of your purchase, my lord. But…’
He held up his hand. ‘No “buts”. Might I suggest that you accept the situation and refrain from causing further trouble for yourself? Your attempts are likely to achieve nothing but enmity in certain quarters.’
With that, he left, and Kate felt a shiver run through her veins, because his words had sounded very much like a threat.
Harriet just stood there, looking utterly dismayed, while Kate went to the kitchen and began fiercely scrubbing ink from her hands. After a few moments Harriet joined her. ‘Oh, dear,’ she was saying. ‘Oh, goodness gracious, I didn’t realise that the Earl was in the room. What must he think of me?’
Kate rinsed her hands in the sink. Whatever must the Earl think of both of them? ‘I don’t know, Harriet.’
