Page 19 of The Widow’s Christmas Surprise

Kersey swallowed hard, then managed to ask calmly, “And you can give me no idea of what this inheritance will take from the earldom’s assets?”

“Until I speak with the dowager countess, I am afraid not.” Clarke hesitated, then nodded. “I can only say that there will be a significant change to the Kersey resources.”

Dear God. Kersey sat back in stunned silence, trying not to show his anguish at this blow. A significant change. That could be anything from the unentailed jewelry to a minor property to one of the five major estates. Thank God Kersey Hall, the largest of the properties, was entailed and therefore safe. His mind whirled feverishly, calculating how much income might be lost to the little dowager countess. He’d pored over the account books as soon as he’d arrived at Kersey Hall, and been gratified to learn how prosperous the earldom was. Change that income by even a small percentage and he might barely be able to scrape by on this estate, much less live a stylish existence in the London townhouse. If indeed that terraced house in Mayfair was part of the entail. In time, the other entailed properties could be made to produce more, but it would be slow going. He and Margery might even have to remain here and eschew Society for the Season. He shuddered at the idea.

His companion’s face drooped. “So you can see, my lord, why it will be somewhat more difficult to conduct this business through the mail. But as Grimes and Clarke are responsible for the original error, we will make every attempt to accommodate the dowager countess.” Mr. Clarke stood and slipped the papers back into his black leather valise. “Please give the dowager our sincere condolences on the death of her husband once more and inform her that I shall write her as soon as I return to London. At some point, when she is ready, she must journey to London and sign several documents, including her own will.”

“Of course.” Kersey stood, looking down at Mr. Clarke, thinking furiously about how this catastrophe could be remedied. “I am certain she will be overjoyed to receive this news. Please let me know if there is anything else the earldom can do to facilitate matters.”

“You are very good, Lord Kersey.” Mr. Clarke grasped the handle to his case, which looked as if it outweighed the gentleman by several pounds, and strode to the door. “Please tell the dowager countess that if she has questions, and I suspect she will have many, she has only to write me.”

“I will do that, sir, you have my word.” Kersey managed to smile at the older man before the solicitor strode out into the corridor, where Chambers hovered about with Mr. Clarke’s coat and scarf, ready to show the gentleman the way to his carriage. “Chambers, after you’ve assisted Mr. Clarke, please ask Lord Wetherby to attend me here as soon as possible.”

“Certainly, my lord.” Chambers helped Mr. Clarke with his coat and dark blue knitted scarf before escorting him out.

No sooner had the door closed, than Lord Kersey called to the butler. “Chambers! Bring Wetherby to me now.”

Wide-eyed, the butler bowed, then hurried to the front staircase. He paused but a moment, perhaps to catch his breath, then shot straight up the steps.

Cursing low under his breath, Kersey headed back into the receiving room, making a straight line to the cognac. No need for restraint any longer. Disaster had arrived and must be met head-on. He poured a full tumbler then took a deep sip, allowing the mellow burn to trace its way down into his stomach where it created a glow that went some little way toward comforting him. He’d taken another long sip when Anthony rushed in, wearing only breeches and a stained shirt, looking as if he’d just risen from his bed. At three thirty in the afternoon, it was not beyond the realm of possibility.

“What the deuce has happened, Father?” His son yawned, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Chambers insisted you needed me immediately.” He looked about, a petulant grimace on his face. “I see no disaster to merit being dragged from my bed.”

“You’ll see it clearly enough presently.” Kersey downed the rest of his drink and eyed the decanter. He’d like nothing more than to drain the cut-crystal bottle and make this entire nightmare go away, at least temporarily. At last, however, he set the glass down and turned to his offspring. “I have just been handed a piece of news that could ruin us, and I mean financially in the worst way. Unless we can agree on the one course of action that will save us.”

Anthony scrubbed his hands over his face, eyed the decanter, and said thickly, “A hair of the dog wouldn’t be amiss right now.”

Shaking his head, Kersey poured a generous tot and handed it to his son. “I agree you’re going to need this.”

Glancing at his father through slitted eyes, Anthony knocked back the cognac with a practiced hand and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “What’s the matter?”

“Mr. Clarke, the solicitor, has just left, and to say he bore bad tidings is a gross understatement.” Kersey plucked the empty glass from his son’s fingers and set it carefully on the table. “His firm has discovered a last will and testament written by the previous Lord Kersey on the day he died.”

Anthony blinked and his jaw tightened, then he relaxed. “How bad can that be? The lands and property are entailed. He cannot have given any of that to anyone else.”

“True. But he could and did leave a bequest to his wife and daughter.”

With a shrug, Anthony reached for the brandy. “And how much does that amount to?”

“Clarke wouldn’t say anything except there would be a significant change to the Kersey resources.”

The decanter slipped through Anthony’s fingers and thumped loudly on the table. “Significant? How significant?”

“We don’t know. But you now see our predicament a bit more clearly.” Kersey grabbed the brandy and poured sizeable amounts into both their glasses. “There is a good deal of unentailed property thanks to the old earl, including estates, the London townhouse, art, jewelry, and I don’t know what else. It sounds as though a substantial portion of it has been settled on the Dowager Lady Kersey. Unless we can do something to return it to the fold, so to speak.”

Anthony glanced sharply at his father. “How would you propose to do that? Contest the will?”

“Unfortunately, that is not possible. Mr. Clarke, blast his thorough heart, has authenticated it with the witnesses. It will undoubtedly stand up in an English court.” Swirling the amber liquid, Kersey refrained from looking at his heir. Letting the suggestion come from his son, rather than as his own decree, would help ensure Anthony’s wholehearted compliance with the only plan available to them.

“Damn.” Anthony took a swallow of the cognac, the wheels of his mind almost visible as he sorted out their options. “Well, there is one thing we could do, although it would be quite distasteful, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, I am sure it will be.” Kersey relaxed. Praise God the boy was beginning to think like a Garrett. “Still, I don’t believe the duty will be as unpleasant as it might be if the lady were less comely. She seems a pleasant armful at least.”

His son stared at him as though he were mad. “What does her looks have to do with it?”

Kersey frowned. “Only that marrying a handsome woman would be more enticing than marrying a plain one.”

“Marry her?” Anthony’s shocked expression puzzled his father greatly.