Once an Heiress (36 page)

Ethan fell back as though stricken. “Reprobate? I?” He pressed a hand to his chest, his face the very picture of wounded innocence. “Need I remind you, Lady Thorburn, that it was not
my
unbridled lust that ruined the both of us.” When Lily started to protest, he raised a hand. “Nevertheless, despite my ill use at your hands, I have heard your complainants and been moved to mercy. You said yourself just moments ago that you’ve not had enough rest — you should get some now.” His eyes softened and he kissed her lips. “I’ve seen how tenderly Monthwaite treats your friend, the duchess. I’ve determined to follow his example.”

Fierce love blazed through her. Even in his serious moments, he continued to surprise and delight her. How touching that he should try to learn from Isabelle and Marshall’s marriage and emulate the duke’s husbandly behaviors, since Ethan had been deprived of such an example in his boyhood home. “But, love,” she reminded him, “Isabelle is with child. She warrants such treatment, while I am not, and do not.”

He favored her with a boyish grin. “Then we shall have to remedy that.” As he scooped her into his arms, his face grew more serious. “I love you, Lily, and I cannot wait to have a child with you.”

Happy tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “Oh, Ethan — ”

“You are so good and generous and kind, princess. You will be a wonderful mother.”

Lily raised her head to kiss him.

A soft tap at the door broke them apart. “My lady? My lord?” Moira called.

Ethan covered himself with the sheet, while Lily scrambled to don her dressing gown. “Come in.”

Moira bobbed a hasty curtsy. She glanced at Ethan and then quickly down at her toes, color rising in her cheeks. “There’s a gentleman waiting in your study, m’lord.” She handed a card to Lily. She read the name before passing it to Ethan.
Mr. James Logan, Esq.

“A solicitor?”

Ethan nodded. “Nessa’s. It must be something to do with her affairs.” He swung his legs over the side of the mattress and Moira scrambled to exit the room before his lordship rose from the bed, gloriously bare in the morning sun.

Lily attempted to help him dress. She made a muck of his cravat before cursing the scrap of material and allowing Ethan to tie it for himself. She held his coat for him, then affixed the black mourning band around his upper arm. “There now,” she said admiringly, smoothing his lapels, “handsome as can be — though I do wish you’d hire your valet back. Maybe he could do something with your hair.”

Ethan looked at her askance. “I can’t, darling. We’re still economizing.”

She huffed. “If you would just use my dowry — ”

He tapped her on the nose. “No,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “I told you I want no part of it. We’ll have what’s left of the Kneath fortune one of these years. Until then, we’ll muddle through. The Bachman money belongs to our children.”

He kissed her before exiting the room and going downstairs to meet the solicitor. Lily sighed and shook her head. No matter how she raised the issue, Ethan adamantly refused to touch her dowry, except for a small portion he had asked Mr. Bachman to help him invest — the profit from which he intended to use to repay his debts. The rest, he’d left alone to collect interest. She supposed it had become something of a proving ground for him. After all the trouble that money had caused, he swore he didn’t want it at all — that he already had the greatest treasure Mr. Bachman could have given him in Lily.

They were poor as church mice, and the dunning letters hadn’t stopped, but Lily had something more precious to her than all the money in the world: a man who loved her for herself, and one whom she, in turn, loved and respected with all her heart.

• • •

Ethan strode into the study and greeted Mr. Logan, a middle-aged gentleman of average stature with graying hair, ordinary features, and ink stains around his fingernails. Ethan invited him to sit in the new chair on the far side of his desk, while he took his seat behind it. He clasped his hands together on the oak top, now cleared of the drifts of papers. He and Lily had worked together to create an orderly system of folios, so that each letter demanding money now had a cheery home inside a cover marked CREDITORS — UNPAID.

“My apologies for calling so early, Lord Thorburn,” Mr. Logan began. “I’ve just come from the bank, and hoped to catch you at home. It’s good to see you again, my lord. I regret we did not have the opportunity to speak at Mrs. Myles’s funeral service — which was lovely, by the by. She was blessed to have you, if I may say so.”

Ethan gave a slight nod. He never would have made it through the trial of arranging Vanessa’s funeral and burial without Lily. She’d lent him quiet strength when he’d depleted his own, granting him courage with a smile or a squeeze of her hand. She had seen to the notice in the paper, and even thought to wrap his walking stick in bombazine to complete his funeral ensemble. In the two weeks since, he had taken great comfort in being with Lily as much as possible. She distracted him from his grief, which receded a little each day.

“I take it her affairs bring you here?” Ethan asked, setting aside the somber memory of the funeral.

Mr. Logan nodded. “I have spent these last weeks distributing Mrs. Myles’s estate as her will directed. A great and generous woman, my lord — I have criss-crossed England issuing her bequests to orphanages and hospitals. She also left the amount of two years’ salary to each of her servants, quite above and beyond the normal way of things.”

Ethan smiled to himself. How good it was to hear of Vanessa’s final requests. It reminded him of how she was, before the dementia robbed him of her.

“This very morning,” Mr. Logan continued, “I established an account that will see to her pensioned servants for at least the next five years, which brings me to the final item of business in regards to Mrs. Myles’s will.” The solicitor lay a folio on the desk and opened it. “You are aware, my lord, of the arrangement between Mrs. Myles and your grandfather, the late Jophery Helling, Earl of Kneath?” He drew a steel pen out of his inside breast pocket.

“Of course,” Ethan replied. “She was his mistress for some thirty-five years — until the day he died.”

“Just so, my lord.” He made a check mark beside an item on his papers.

Ethan frowned. “What are you marking off?”

“Mrs. Myles instructed that I make certain there were no surprises, my lord. She wanted you to be clear on all points.”

“Vanessa knew I knew all of that! For God’s sake, when I stayed with Grandfather, I saw her almost daily, why should — ” Understanding lifted a veil. “Oh,” he said sadly. “The dementia. Even then. She wasn’t sure anymore that I knew.” He clasped a hand to his mouth.

“It could have been different the next day, my lord — the next hour,” Mr. Logan said. “But at the moment when she dictated my instructions, I believe your assumption to be correct, my lord. I’m sorry for any pain this arouses, but you understand I must follow Mrs. Myles’s directions.”

Ethan nodded. “Go on.”

Mr. Logan cleared his throat and consulted his notes. “Mrs. Myles would like to know whether you, Ethan Helling, continue to play at games of chance in a fast, irresponsible fashion?”
Check
.

He sputtered a laugh. “She would like to know?”

“It’s what she said, my lord.” Mr. Logan pinched his lips.

“No, I do not. I’ve not regularly engaged in games of chance since the time of my marriage.”

“Hmm.” Mr. Logan nodded his approval. “Mrs. Myles would like you to know she is proud of you for ridding yourself of that vice, which she saw as the one flaw in an otherwise remarkable young man.”
Check
.

Ethan smiled, imagining a younger, healthier Vanessa chiding him for his rakehell lifestyle. “Thank you, Nessa,” he murmured.

“In light of your reform, Mrs. Myles wishes you appraised of the following: Your grandsire, the second Earl of Kneath, never liked the man his son, the third and present Earl of Kneath, became. Mrs. Myles shared his opinion.”
Check
.

Ethan couldn’t help but sputter a laugh. “No, Grandfather never had much good to say about my sire.”

“Indeed, my lord. Might I trouble you for a glass of water?” With the requested beverage procured, and his parched throat refreshed, Mr. Logan once again referred to Vanessa’s unusual, final words for Ethan. “Mrs. Myles would like you to know that your grandfather feared your sire’s heir, Lord Walter Helling, followed your father down a likewise brutish path.” The solicitor’s face reddened, and he hastily added, “‘Brutish’ is her word, my lord. You see? Here. Please understand I intend no disrespect to the deceased.”

Ethan waved away his apology. “Walter was still alive when she dictated to you.” He didn’t broach the claim, although Vanessa was right. Walter had been a bully and a brute; he learned well from their father that he who shouts loudest or hits hardest gets his own way.

Mr. Logan dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. “Thank you, my lord. Mrs. Myles goes on to say that in you, however, Jophery Helling saw a good man in the making. He took an especial interest in you not out of obligation, but out of preference. In light of your father expressing little concern for your welfare, and as you stand to inherit nothing from your sire — ”

“But I will inherit,” Ethan cut in. “She didn’t know Walter would die and make me heir.”

Mr. Logan shot him a withering gaze. “My lord, if I may?”

“Please.” Ethan waved, biting his tongue to keep himself from interrupting again.

“Your grandsire, the second Earl of Kneath, was bound by law to leave the entirety of his entailed fortune and property to your father, the present and third Earl of Kneath. Yet he desired to see your future provided for, and therefore established, along with Mrs. Myles, an inheritance for you, Ethan Helling, free of the Kneath entail.”
Check
.

Ethan stared at the solicitor, dumbstruck. “My … You mean Grandfather? When I heard you’d come, I thought perhaps Vanessa had left me a little portion, but you’re saying
Grandfather
is behind this?”

“Indeed I am, my lord,” Mr. Logan affirmed. “Additional monies were contributed to Mrs. Myles’s quarterly allowance, which she set aside for the purpose she and Lord Kneath devised.”
Check
. “She would also like to advise you,” Mr. Logan said, glancing up, “that the earl was overly generous with her allowance, and she also put aside a portion of her own money.”

Disbelief allowed Ethan to do nothing but gape at the solicitor. Never in his wildest dreams would Ethan have believed that fifteen years after his grandfather’s passing would he learn of a legacy.

“All monies being held in Mrs. Myles’s name,” Mr. Logan continued, “prevented the present earl from making any claim on them. Upon the occasion of Mrs. Myles’s passing, this inheritance now passes to you, Ethan Helling, a joint gift of seventy-five thousand pounds from Jophery Helling, the Earl of Kneath and Mrs. Vanessa Myles.”

The number struck Ethan in the gut. “Seventy-five …
thousand
?”

“Oh, she left you her house, as well.” Mr. Logan blew his cheeks out and drank the remainder of his water.

Ethan went numb all over. He stared at the man, all agog. “Seventy-five thousand, and her house.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Seventy-five
thoooooouusand
,” he experimented with the articulation, hoping to no avail it would make the situation more believable, “and her house.”

“That’s correct, my lord.”

His fingers drummed against the desk. Lily would be astonished to learn of this inheritance. He could discharge every penny of his debt in short order. She would be so relieved. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, rising, “I have to tell — ” He halted as a thought sprang up. “Oh, you idiot!” he proclaimed, clapping himself on the forehead. “Why didn’t you think of that first thing, you ridiculous lout?”

“My lord?” Mr. Logan frowned at him.

Ethan commenced an energetic pacing of the room, eager to be done with the meeting. “Mr. Logan, my good man,” he said boisterously, “is this fund already in my name?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And I can draw on it right away?”

“As soon as you’d like, sir.”

“Excellent!” Ethan clicked his heels and cut a slight bow. “Forgive my hasty departure, Mr. Logan, but I must attend to some business.”

• • •

When he returned home, he found Lily in the parlor, stitching a thistle into the collar of one of his shirts. She rose to greet him, concern etching lines between her brows. “You went to meet Mr. Logan and then disappeared for two hours. Is everything all right?”

Ethan smiled as his arms slid around her waist. “Everything is more than all right.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, delighting in the effusive warmth that spread through him at her touch. His beautiful wife rested her cheek against his shoulder, a gesture so simple, but so replete with love. Ethan stroked her hair and back. “I have something for you, princess.”

As he reached into his pocket, Lily quipped, “Is it a table for the dining room?”

“Not yet,” Ethan answered, “but soon.” He handed her the paper he’d purchased from Edmund Ficken. Lily unfolded it and scanned the lines. Happiness filled him as he watched her face light up.

“The school!” she exclaimed with glee. “You bought it back! But how … ?”

“Vanessa,” he said simply.

Lily clasped her hands to her heart, then the next instant flung them around Ethan’s neck, nearly toppling him backward. “Thank you so much.” She kissed his cheek, his lips, his other cheek, his neck, his jaw, his lips again —

Laughing, he captured her face in his hands. “It was my pleasure, princess. This is a marriage of equals, is it not?” At Lily’s happy nod, his heart leaped with joy. “You bought me a house.” He jerked his chin, indicating the very home in which they stood, for which Lily had sacrificed her dream of King’s Cross Vocational. “I thought it was my turn to do the same for you.”

He scarcely had the words out of his mouth before Lily stood on her toes and kissed him with such erotic sweetness, he was sorely tempted to dash her upstairs to bed. “I love you, Ethan Helling,” she said, her eyes brimming with love and desire.