Leslie LaFoy (47 page)

And it wasn't going to happen in Texas either. Her
stomach roiling, her pulse pounding with barely contained anger and pain, Lindsay said—with what seemed to her to be a surprising degree of calm—“Let me see if I'm understanding this correctly. You want me to go with you when you return to Texas. I'll move into my father's house and you'll financially support me while you arrange to have every man in Texas parade past me for inspection. When I find one that suits my fancy, I'll marry him and live happily ever after. Is that the basic idea, Jack?”

He winced. “It sounded better the way I said it.”

“No, Jack,” she countered, draining her wineglass. “Trust me; it didn't.”

“What's wrong with it?”

Nothing, if I didn't love you. Nothing, if you'd asked me to go with you because you loved me.
Her entire body trembling with the effort to hold tears at bay, Lindsay blindly laid her napkin beside her plate.

“Billy walked away and left you behind,” Jack said, leaning across the table to cover her hand with his. “He shouldn't have and I don't want to make the same mistake he did. I couldn't live with myself knowing you were here and miserable and that I could have done something simple and easy to see that your life turned out better than it did.”

Her heart was breaking. She tried to smile, tried to hide her pain behind a facade of confidence and nonchalance. “I'm not your responsibility, Jack.”

“I know that, Lindsay. I just want you to be happy.”

But all you're willing to do is pass the responsibility off to another man.
She pulled her hand from beneath his. “My road to happiness doesn't lie in marrying a stranger in Texas. But thank you for suggesting the idea, Jack. I understand that there are good intentions behind it.”

“Lindsay …”

So earnest. So soft. So blindly unaware. Her throat was closing with tears and she knew that she wasn't going to be able to keep them at bay much longer. Desperate to escape before he discovered how deeply she was hurt, just how big a fool she was, Lindsay rose to her feet, saying, “If you'll excuse me, please. Suddenly, I don't feel at all well. It must
be from having too much wine. I think I'd best retire for the evening. Good night, Jack.”

She fled with what remained of her dignity, keeping her pace sedate and even all the way out of the dining room, across the foyer, and up the stairs. Not once did she look back. And while the tears were streaming over her lashes and down her cheeks by the time she reached the top of the stairs, she managed to close herself away in her room before the sobs tore up her throat and shredded her composure. She fell onto her bed, curling into a ball and knowing that she had never hurt this deeply. Because she had never loved anyone as much as she did Jackson Stennett. And he was willing to let her go.

H
E'D
SUSPECTED LAST NIGHT
that he'd blundered in laying out his offer, but he'd had no inkling of just how badly he'd erred until breakfast. Lindsay had come down with her eyes puffy and her cheeks scraped raw. A blind man would have known that she'd spent the night crying instead of sleeping. And even Tiny wouldn't have believed her repeated assertions that nothing was wrong, that everything was just as fine as it always was. It wasn't and he knew it to the center of his bones. Lindsay might be smiling and telling him he was imagining things, but she was offering the gesture and words from an emotional distance he'd never felt with her before. It was almost as though she'd walked across a bridge without him and then burnt it before he even knew it was there.

She sat on the opposite seat of the rented hack now, her gaze fixed on the world passing outside the window on their way to Otis Vanderhagen's office. Knowing there was no point in asking her yet again what he'd done, he studied her instead and played the memory of last night through his head. He was fairly good at judging people's reactions to
things, and he would have sworn that she was initially receptive to his suggestion that she move to Texas. Her breath had caught and her eyes had gotten big and bright. A little smile had been flirting around the corners of her mouth when he'd explained how he thought it could all work.

The first sign he'd had that she might say “no” had been when she'd suggested that he send her money as he intended to send Tiny. What had he said between then and the start that had changed the way she saw the offer? Damned if he could remember anything that might have been off-putting. Billy's house. Making sure she had money to live on. That there was enough to see to her needs. Was she seeing his offer as an act of pity and charity? Surely not. He'd explained why he wanted to do it. Yes, he'd explained that very clearly; not wanting to make the same mistake her father had in leaving her behind alone and lonely. There was no way she could have misunderstood his motives.

She'd become more animated when he'd talked about the possibility of her finding a husband. Maybe, Jack admitted, frowning, he could have put that part better. Judging from the way she'd summed it up for him, it seemed that she thought he might auction her off or something. But she should know him better that. She should know that he wouldn't let anyone around her but the best and brightest and most capable of taking care of her and making her happy. He wouldn't let her marry anyone except someone who really and truly loved her and was worth her. Jesus, didn't she know that he cared about her? That he'd rather die than see her hurt and unhappy? That's why he'd made the offer in the first place. And he'd been real clear about that, too.

Maybe, Jack decided as the carriage pulled to a stop, he needed to take another run at the whole idea after they completed their business with Vanderhagen. He didn't like the distance he was feeling between him and Lindsay, and the longer it went on, the more he worried that they might not be able to get back the closeness they'd had. He missed it, and he missed it badly. It felt more wrong than anything he'd ever felt in his life.

“Ready?” she asked as he assisted her out of the carriage.

Jack nodded, but decided against suggesting that she let him do the majority of the talking, the bulk of the question-asking. He didn't know exactly where he stood with her and the last thing he wanted to risk was inadvertently putting any more distance between them. He'd just have to roll with the punches when they got inside and make the best of it. As god-awful as it was to wish horrible news on anyone, as they entered the office he found himself wishing that the news would be so devastating that it would drive Lindsay into his arms. If he could just hold her, everything would come right again.

“Good morning, Lindsay,” the attorney boomed, standing behind his desk. “Good morning, Mr. Stennett. I'm glad to see that you've returned from your trip. As I'm sure you're aware, Richard passed in your absence.”

“Yes,” Lindsay replied quietly. “Mrs. Beechum said that you needed to speak with me immediately about Richard's Will.”

“Yes, yes,” the attorney said, motioning to the chairs placed on the other side of his desk.

“The Will aside,” Jack ventured, “I have some questions for you.”

“I'm sure you do, Mr. Stennett,” Vanderhagen acknowledged with a quick nod. “And I've been waiting for them. However, I think that perhaps the reading of Richard's Last Will and Testament will answer most of them. What isn't addressed by that document, I'll answer to the best of my ability.”

“When do you plan to disclose the contents?” Lindsay asked.

“If you and Mr. Stennett will have a seat, I can do so right now. There are matters pertaining to others, of course, but they can be informed at another time and privately.”

Lindsay dutifully sat, but Jackson felt inclined to refuse just for the sake of refusing. “I'll stand, if you don't mind.”

“As you like, Mr. Stennett,” the lawyer said while gathering up a stack of documents. He handed one across the desk to Lindsay, saying, “A copy was made for you, Lindsay. And since you're capable of reading it for yourself, I'll dispense with actually reading it for you. Instead, and if
you have no objections, I'll summarize for your and Mr. Stennett's benefit.”

“Please proceed,” Jack instructed, wanting it over just as quickly and cleanly as possible.

With a deep breath that pulled his waistcoat up over his paunch, Vanderhagen said, “Richard begins by acknowledging Henry and Agatha MacPhaull and Benjamin Tipton as his children.”

Lindsay instantly gasped and leaned forward. “I beg your pardon?”

Jack sucked in a hard breath. It was one helluva unexpected wrinkle. He would never have guessed something like that.

“Richard, as they say, had quite a bit of swash in his buckle in his younger years,” Otis Vanderhagen explained, smiling weakly. “As indelicate as it may be, I'm afraid there's no way around the truth of the matter. Seducing married women was his expertise. Lydia MacPhaull certainly wasn't the first. Abigail Beechum, due to unfortunate circumstances, was his last. But as far as Richard knew, Henry and Agatha and Ben were the only offspring to result from his various liaisons. He legally acknowledges his parentage and provides Henry and Agatha with a reasonable trust from which they may draw specific amounts over the course of the next ten years. After that time, the funds remaining, along with the accrued interest, are to be donated to charities Richard selected.

“Ben will receive a token bequest; largely so that he doesn't have legal grounds on which to contest the Will. If you don't mind, I'll come back to the other reasons a little later in our conversation. It will all make much more sense at that point and in the larger context.”

Lindsay nodded her assent. Jackson chewed the inside of his lip and wondered how a man could work day in and day out with his son and never publicly acknowledge the relationship. What a strange man Richard Patterson had been.

“Richard also made similar trusts for Havers and Emile, in recognition of their years of service to him,” Vanderhagen went on, pulling Jack from his musing. “Again, the trusts are
to exist for ten years and then be dissolved, with the balances going to charity. Richard also established a trust on behalf of Mrs. Abigail Beechum. It will provide her with an income and remain in effect for the rest of her life. At her passing, the remaining monies will go to charities of her own choosing.”

The lawyer paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “And he made provisions for you, of course, Lindsay. There are personal remarks for you in the Will itself and I will allow you to read those at your leisure and in the privacy of your own home. But—”

“Does he happen to tell her,” Jack asked bluntly, “why he'd spent the last fifteen years stripping the MacPhaull Company of assets?”

Vanderhagen nodded. Even though Jack had expected to find the truth in the end, the gesture, the easy admission of Richard Patterson's theft, struck like a physical blow. He sensed Lindsay start and he instantly put his hands on her shoulders, wordlessly assuring her that she wasn't alone in dealing with the news.

“While Richard was kind enough to say nothing that might compromise my legal integrity,” Vanderhagen said, after letting their initial shock pass, “I will admit freely to both of you that I have not only been aware of what he was doing from the beginning, but that I have also been deeply involved in the process. I approved of his motives and I supported his efforts at every opportunity. I could be disbarred and brought up on criminal charges for what I've done, but in considering the situation, I had to do what I believed to be in the long-range best interests of the MacPhaull Company.”

Lindsay's voice quavered as she asked, “And just what have you and Richard done?”

A deep breath, a yank on his waistcoat, and then Vanderhagen smoothly replied, “There were two primary concerns underlying our actions. The first is that you, Lindsay, are the one and only known legitimate heir of William Lindsay MacPhaull. The second is that, under the terms of the only Last Will and Testament of William MacPhaull we knew to exist, Henry would inherit all the property. We both knew that it would lead to financial disaster. In the
end, you would not only be denied what was yours by birthright, but you would be impoverished by, if not your brother's certain mismanagement, then his selfishness and greed.

“Since William's whereabouts were unknown—even whether he was alive or dead—Richard thought to make things right as best he could and enlisted my aid in establishing a series of companies that exist only on paper.”

“We know about them, Mr. Vanderhagen,” Jack said. “They're the Little, Bates and Company of Boston, the Michaels, Katz, and Osborne firm in Charleston, the firm of Hooper, Preston, and Roberts, Limited in Philadelphia, and the MacWillman Company in Richmond.”

Vanderhagen nodded and, meeting his gaze over Lindsay's head, replied, “Ben said he thought you would soon unravel the puzzle. As usual, he was right. Benjamin Tipton is a very perceptive young man.”

“Ben knows?” Lindsay gasped. “He's involved?”

“Very much so. And we come to the matter of Richard's bequeath to him. Ben arrived in the city at his mother's death, determined to claim his birthright regardless of the scandal it might create. Richard was equally determined to keep him from doing so. I suppose, in the crudest analysis, Benjamin has been blackmailing Richard for years. Richard, thinking that it was best to have Benjamin where he could be controlled as much as possible, brought him into the company with a private stipend to supplement his bookkeeper's salary, and with a commitment to recognize him as a legitimate heir at Richard's passing.”

Vanderhagen looked down at the document as he added, “Richard, as you might well imagine, resented being placed in such a position. The amount of Ben's bequeath reflects the monies Richard paid to him over the years.”

“Does Ben know?” Jack asked, trying to see how the ripples played out.

Vanderhagen shrugged. “I've said nothing to him. Nor have I discussed the terms of the Will with any of the other parties involved. My primary concern has been with informing Lindsay of the circumstances. Informing the others
can be seen to in the days ahead. There's no particular hurry.”