I lifted my shoulder.
The corner of Henry’s mouth quirked. “Nervous?”
“I’m trying not to be,” Weston said.
Henry gave us an easy, reassuring smile. “Trust me. We have this in hand. The sheriff isn’t going to fuss. The will is straightforward.”
I nodded, automatically leaning into Weston, threading my fingers through his and squeezing his hand tightly as Henry walked us into the chamber. Jasper was already inside with his lawyer, their heads pressed together. He avoided looking at us as if he’d been instructed to avert his eyes. We settled in at our table with Henry, rising to our feet when the sheriff appeared dressed in a long black robe. She settled in at a raised bench, and then the hearing began.
Henry addressed the sheriff asmy ladyas he presented the will and delivered our arguments. Jasper’s lawyer took his turn to speak, then the sheriff asked some clarifying questions. Finally, there were closing remarks.
“My lady,” Henry said, “Peter Kincaid’s will makes it perfectly clear that his chosen heir—his grandson Weston—needed only to marry in order to inherit the estate. There was nothing specifying any requirements surrounding the marriage itself, nor was there anything stated about the necessity of any particular type of relationship with the bride in question prior to the wedding. The only stipulation was that Weston Kincaid had to be married within thirty days from his grandfather’s death, which he was.”
The sheriff nodded, taking his words under advisement.
“As you can see from the documentation,” Henry continued, “their marriage was legal and valid. Therefore, the terms are met. As such, Jasper Kincaid has no grounds to contest the will.”
I wasn’t a fan of legal dramas on television, but by any standard, this one was rather subdued. Still, I held my breath as the sheriff reviewed our marriage certificate. Finally, the sheriff cleared her throat.
“Having considered the evidence provided,” she announced to the room, “I am satisfied that the conditions for a valid marriage were met. As such, the terms of the will remain fulfilled, and the provisions therein shall stand.”
“No!” We all turned to see that Jasper had shot to his feet. “This isn’t fair. None of it is. He always gets his way.”
“That’s enough out of you,” the sheriff admonished.
Before Jasper could say more and cause trouble for himself, his lawyer gripped his arm and yanked him back into his seat.
I blinked hard as Henry turned around with that buoyant grin, shaking Weston’s hand. “That’ll do. Congratulations.”
Weston clapped him on the shoulder, shaking his hand.
It’s done, I realized and blew out a breath. All that worry and anxiety had been for nothing. The courts had agreed that Jasper had no right to the property!
Across from us, Jasper growled something at his lawyer and marched off, storming through the door of the courtroom.
“How about a drink—my shout?” Weston said to Henry.
“I’ll take you up on that.”
My hand was still tucked into the crook of Weston’s arm as we made our way out of the courtroom, buzzing with giddiness. But as we stepped out on the stone steps in front of the building, the elation inside me deflated like a balloon. Because now that Lochbrae was no longer under threat, now that our marriage wasn’t being scrutinized, Weston certainly didn’t need me anymore.
I stopped in place, and Weston came to a halt as well, turning to face me as I untangled my hand from his. “What is it?”
“I’ll meet you down at the pub!” Henry called up to us, but I wasn’t paying attention to him. All I could think about was how wrong this all felt now, and I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep standing by Weston’s side and pretending this lie wasn’t tearing me apart.
“I can’t, Weston,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Can’t go to the pub?” he said. “It’s just a drink.”
But it wasn’t just a drink. It was a drink with me playing the role of his besotted wife, tucked into his side, staring at him like I was looking up at my happily ever after. And that was a lie I couldn’t live anymore. I couldn’t celebrate with him and not think about how much I still loved him. How much it hurt knowing that what we had was over.
I couldn’t pretend the mess away.
“I’m going to go back to my room and then?—”
“Then what?” he asked, frowning. He didn’t reach for me, but his hand twitched like it might. He was close enough that I could smell his aftershave, and it made me dizzy. I’d forgotten how overwhelming it was, being near him—and that was the reason I had to leave. Not just Braeburn, but Kincaid Energy. The only reason continuing to work for him after the festival had been remotely bearable was because he was in Scotland, but he wouldn’t stay in Braeburn forever. If I stayed as his assistant, sooner or later we’d be working from the same office again, and I knew now that just wasn’t an option I could handle.
“I’m going to go pack my things and go home,” I said, steeling myself for how hard this was to say. After everything he’d accused me of, walking away from him still hurt. “Then I think it’s time for me to move on from Kincaid Energy.”
