Chapter Eleven

TRUEMAN ANNOUNCED IN HIS FUNEREAL baritone, “Mr. Cecil Broadbill.”

Cecil Broadbill, Esquire, of Broadbill and Bent, Solicitors, came into the drawing room and made a deep bow. He was a tall man, with long thin legs, and Valeria thought he looked like a stork. He was, however, exquisitely dressed in the current understated mode. He wore a black tailcoat perfectly cut, a discreet gray-and-blue-striped waistcoat with the fob and watch chain appended in exactly the correct arc, and black pegged trousers. His rather wispy brown hair was fashionably styled in careless curls and waves, and when he bowed a large round bald spot shone. His eyes were close-set and he had a slight hook in his nose, which gave him a sort of predatory look.

Regina made the introductions in a weak voice. “Mr. Broadbill, this is my son St. John and my daughter Miss Segrave. This is Lord Hylton and Lady Hylton, and this is Lord Lydgate and Lady Lydgate.”

Valeria was worried about her mother. Though she had attended every meal, she ate scantily and was still so weak that she had been obliged to retire afterward. Such listless introductions were utterly uncharacteristic of Regina. Normally even to tradesmen she worded introductions more graciously. And Valeria thought it was telling that she had introduced St. John by his given name, when she should have introduced him by his title. Her mother seemed so distracted by grief that she was barely able to function.

Broadbill acknowledged the introductions with fawning deference and then launched into pompous, wordy condolences. When eventually he fell silent Regina nodded wearily and said, “Thank you, sir. Shall we retire to the earl’s study?”

“Certainly, my lady,” he said, and made a vague gesture to offer Regina his arm. She appeared not to see it. When she rose she clasped Alastair’s arm tightly and leaned on him. Valeria noted that Broadbill looked utterly nonplussed as Alastair and Lady Hylton accompanied them down the hall to the study.

The study was also the library, a somber room with glass-fronted bookcases lining every wall. At one end was an old refectory table with several comfortable armchairs grouped around it. At the other end was a massive mahogany desk. Broadbill sat behind the desk. In five side chairs precisely lined up in front of it, Lady Hylton sat by Regina, then St. John, then Valeria, and Lord Hylton sat by her. Valeria reflected how odd it was that the solicitor seemed to be holding court, and the distinguished personages in front of him seemed to be merely his attendees. He was conscious of it too, she thought. Although he cast a few nervous glances at Lord Hylton as he opened his leather portfolio, as he took long moments to shuffle papers fussily he assumed a pompous air.

“We have here the last will and testament of the Earl of Maledon,” he pronounced as if he were reading Scripture. “With your permission, my lady, I will read it aloud.” Without waiting for her permission, he picked up a single sheet of paper and read:

“‘In the name of God, amen,

“‘I, Edward Charles Robert Bellegarde, Earl of Maledon, Viscount Stamborne of Essex, Baron Bellegarde of Roding, in the County of Essex, on this the twenty-fifth day of May in the Year of Our Lord 1805,

“‘Being compos mentis and of sound memory, do make and ordain this to be my last will and testament.

“‘As touching such of worldly Estate wherewith it has pleased God to bless me in this life, I give demise and dispose of the same in the following Manner and Form.

“‘Item: I give and bequeath to my wife Regina Bellegarde, Lady Maledon, the sum of ten thousand pounds.

“‘Item: All and Singular of the residue of my estate I give and bequeath to my son St. John Charles George Bellegarde.

“‘I constitute, make and ordain that Cecil Broadbill, Esquire, of Broadbill and Bent, Solicitors, London, be the Executor of this my last Will and Testament.’”

Broadbill laid the paper down, looked up, steepled his fingers precisely. “The rest is the signature, the seal, the witness, and the executor’s acknowledgment.”

A long heavy silence greeted this. Valeria glanced at her mother and saw that she looked stunned, as if she had received a blow; beside her Lady Hylton looked as grim as death. Valeria looked up at Alastair, and though he kept his customary aloof expression, she saw that his eyes had narrowed to cold slits as he regarded the solicitor. Broadbill fidgeted for a moment, then said deprecatingly, “It is a simple document, but legally complete. We’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have, your ladyship, but it really is very clear.”

Valeria waited for her mother to say something, but Regina seemed unable to speak, so Valeria said, “Well, I do have questions, Mr. Broadbill, several of them. First of all, what about my annuity from my father? I know that I receive two thousand pounds per annum from the Segrave estate.”

“Just so, Miss Segrave,” he said in a condescending voice, and steepled his fingers again. “We’re sure you are also aware that your stepfather was the sole trustee of your annuity, and therefore had the funds at his disposal to manage them as his lordship believed would be in your best interest. Of course there is an accounting for the annuity, and we will be happy to present that at the time I have the final summing up of all of the earl’s assets and liabilities up to the time of his death. You do understand that it will take some time before we’re able to present a complete and comprehensive final report.”

“What are you talking of, sir?” Valeria demanded. “My annuity has nothing to do with Lord Maledon’s assets and liabilities. It’s my money.”

He pursed his lips. “There are several very delicate legal points here, Miss Segrave, of which we fear you are not quite cognizant. Again, we must ask that you wait until the final accounting has been completed. In the last year, his lordship’s account was active, in the sense that many transactions were made, and we are at this time still gathering information concerning the outstanding debts, the balance of certain investments, and tabulating the incomes and outlays of the harvest, which has only just ended. It would be remiss of us to make any pronouncement concerning any single aspect of his lordship’s estate before complete and final tabulations are made.”

Angrily Valeria said, “I will not wait! I demand that you tell me this instant, sir: where is my money?”

Abruptly Regina’s shoulders sagged and she pressed her hands to her forehead. “What have I done…what am I to do…” She moaned softly.

In a stricken whisper St. John breathed, “Oh, Mamma…”

Valeria took a deep breath. “I beg your pardon, Mamma. Please don’t distress yourself, we will sort all of this out later.” She turned back to the solicitor, who looked very wary. Coldly Valeria said, “At least, Mr. Broadbill, tell us of how my mother’s settlement is to be paid. Does the estate have such moneys on hand?”

“Er…ah…” he muttered uneasily, then cleared his throat. “Miss Segrave, we’re afraid that you still don’t quite comprehend your position in these proceedings. There is a concept in law called legal standing. Such concept addresses the exact rights, under the law, of parties in legal proceedings. In the case of a testator’s last will and testament, the only parties who have legal standing, in the most exact sense of the term—”

Rudely Valeria interrupted, “I know what legal standing is, sir, and you are saying that I don’t have it. Very well. Would you prefer that I turn to my mother and tell her what to ask you, including the exact wording, so that she may then parrot it to you? Is such patent absurdity really necessary?”

“Miss Segrave, we have very clear responsibilities under the law,” he said heavily. “As the late earl’s solicitor, and the executor of his lordship’s will, it behooves us to give vital and private information only to persons with legal standing. That would, in truth, be his lordship”—he nodded politely to St. John, who almost, but not quite, made a face at him—“and since he is a minor child, we must defer to her ladyship, and only her ladyship, regarding his estate.”

He turned to look straight at Regina. “My lady, it appears that we may make a suggestion at this time. His lordship’s death was sudden, and must have been a grievous shock to you. It is clear that your ladyship is quite overcome with grief, and under the circumstances it must be almost impossible for you to cope with handling the complexities of the Bellegarde financial affairs. Broadbill and Bent could set up a trusteeship for Lord Maledon. It would, in truth, be little different from what has been our position for the last fifty years. The earls of Maledon have always entrusted us completely with all responsibilities pertaining to the accounting of the estate. In general, the earls direct us in broad terms, understanding that we will faithfully manage the small details. In this way your ladyship would be relieved of much of the onerous responsibilities of administration.”

Regina looked utterly bewildered. “I—I don’t know, I—”

“No, Mamma!” Valeria cried. “You can’t! You mustn’t!”

Mr. Broadbill’s sparse eyebrows drew together. “Really, Miss Segrave, we must protest. Our highest concern is to help her ladyship in any way that we can.”

Valeria almost shouted, “But you’re not helping! Everything you’ve said has been the awfullest bunch of legal flapdoodle I’ve ever heard! And who is we? Is there a Mr. Bent, or are you using the majestic plural?”

Lady Hylton said in an ominous tone, “Valeria, that will be quite enough.”

Valeria clamped her mouth shut.

Lady Hylton rose and said, “Mr. Broadbent—bill—or whatever, we are going to retire to discuss these matters. You will wait here. Give me those papers.”

Broadbill shot out of the chair as if he had been catapulted, groped for a few seconds, then handed his portfolio to Lady Hylton. Valeria noted with rather mean triumph that his hands shook.

Lady Hylton sailed imperiously down the hall to the morning room, where Trueman and the two footmen were in attendance. “You may go. We’ll ring when we need you.” Impassively they filed out.

Lady Hylton seated herself on a sofa and patted the seat next to her. “Come here, my dear, and sit next to me,” she said to Regina. “You look as if you’re about to fade away again. Will you take some sherry?”

“No, thank you, I’m very well,” she answered faintly.

Lady Hylton said decisively, “I think not. Alastair?” He poured a small glass of sherry for Regina, who did sip it gratefully. Alastair stooped and stirred the fire, then took an elegantly negligible stance, leaning on the mantel. He looked at Valeria, and she thought she saw amusement in his eyes. It irritated her in the extreme.

Lady Hylton looked at the three papers in Broadbill’s portfolio. “Just the will,” she muttered impatiently. “I suppose it was too much to hope for that he would bring some sort of statement of financial condition.”

“What if there is not ten thousand pounds for me to place in the funds?” Regina said fearfully. “And even if there is, however am I to manage on five percent interest? That’s—that’s only five hundred pounds per annum. I can’t possibly maintain Bellegarde on five hundred pounds a year!”

“Mamma, you are not thinking clearly,” Valeria said, trying to hide her impatience. “That ten thousand pounds is yours, for you alone. Bellegarde is a profitable estate that generates its own income, although I have no idea how much that might be.”

“I really don’t know either,” Regina said in a distracted manner.

Alastair said, “I do, actually. Bellegarde is worth about twelve thousand pounds a year. In addition to that, Maledon told me that he has investments in some funds, some bank securities, and other things such as the India Company. I have no idea of the principal in these investments, but he said that they had been giving a fairly steady rate of return of around six percent per annum.”

“How do you know all of this?” Valeria asked abruptly.

“We belong to the same clubs, we frequent the same coffeehouses, we meet often in London, Miss Segrave,” he answered coolly. “Men of business often discuss these kinds of things. I can assure you that I have not been meddling in your private family affairs.”

After an awkward moment Valeria said begrudgingly, “I almost wish that you had. Then you might know where my settlement from my father is. Apparently this is a deeply complicated mystery that only Broadbill and Bent can decipher.”

“Hmph!” Lady Hylton grunted. “That man can spout some of the most meaningless, useless legal drivel I’ve ever heard. I wouldn’t trust him with a Brummagem farthing.”

“But surely you can’t think he’s dishonest,” Regina said rather timidly. “Broadbill and Bent have been the Maledon solicitors for many years. I can’t believe Maledon would have tolerated any fraud or thievery.”

“I don’t trust him,” Lady Hylton repeated forcefully. “He was extremely evasive, Regina, and he was bullying you. And he tried to bully Valeria too, but that is obviously not a very easy thing to do.”

“Nevertheless, he didn’t answer me,” Valeria said. “Tiresome man.”

“I think that in a way he did,” Alastair said. “It seemed to me that he was saying that your annuity, Miss Segrave, is included in the Maledon estate.”

Valeria blinked several times. “But—you mean that my stepfather just took it?”

Alastair shrugged slightly. “That’s only my impression. Just now we can’t really know for certain.”

Regina sighed deeply, a soft and helpless sound. “Oh, Letitia, you did try so hard to persuade me, and I simply wouldn’t listen to you. At the time it seemed unconscionable, for me to insist upon making cold and calculated financial arrangements. He was going to be my husband, and I trusted him. What have I done?” She bent her head and began to weep.

St. John ran to kneel by his mother. “Mamma, please don’t cry! If I have any money, you can have it, and Veri can too!”

She leaned over to hug him. “Oh, my darling, it’s not that simple, and it’s not just that, it’s—it’s—”

“Actually it is just that simple, Regina,” Lady Hylton said gently. “Please calm yourself, my dear.”

“Yes, I must, I will try,” she said, releasing St. John and patting him on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I just—it just seems that I cannot make myself think straight. This has all been so very—” She made a helpless fluttering gesture with one hand, and dabbed at her eyes. The tears still ran freely.

Watching her mother, Valeria was filled with dismay. She had never seen her so visibly upset. Regina had always had such a delicate reticence, she never showed the slightest high emotion. Always, even under such difficult and wrenching circumstances as when she had seen Maledon the last time, with the company he had brought to Bellegarde, Regina had behaved with the calmest composure and graciousness. Her mother must have been suffering indeed, to keep breaking down in this way, in public, as it were.

“Mamma,” she said softly, “why don’t you go and rest? It’s plain that you’re still very weak and fatigued.”

“But—but Mr. Broadbill—” Regina said.

“We will take care of him,” Valeria said solidly. “Apparently he has nothing meaningful to say right now, anyway, since he hasn’t finished his tabulating. Go take a nap before dinner, you’ll feel so much better.”

“I agree, Regina, if you don’t rest you’re just going to collapse again,” Lady Hylton said, rising to ring the bell. “And St. John, unless you have an overwhelming desire to hear more about annuities and legal precedents and tabulations, I think you may be excused. Lydgate said you two had made some plans for this afternoon.”

“He did say he’d take me and Niall for a ride in the phaeton,” St. John said. “And I really don’t care about tabulations.”

“Then you may go,” Lady Hylton said.

He went to the door and then turned and said, “But—I s’pose you are going to talk about me, aren’t you? Is it that you don’t want me to hear?”

Acidly Lady Hylton said, “You’re much mistaken, young man. We’re going to talk about your money, not you. And you may certainly hear, if you wish.”

“No, that’s all right then,” he said with relief, and ran out, almost bowling over Trueman.

When the butler recovered himself and came into the room Lady Hylton said, “Lady Maledon wishes to retire. Please take her upstairs.”

Regina was indeed still so weak that she needed help on the stairs. After they left, Lady Hylton said, “I declare, it seems with every passing minute I wish harder that I would have strangled that man! I’ve never heard of a sane man leaving his affairs in such a criminal tangle! And besides, the effrontery of him, to go off gallivanting over the country at such a time, with such a serious illness!”

“It was exceedingly rude of him to go die off in Yorkshire, wasn’t it,” Valeria commented. “Such a breach of good manners.”

“You two ladies are very callous,” Alastair said. “I’m having no part in this conversation.”

“You needn’t be so pious, Alastair,” Lady Hylton retorted. “You’re the one who suggested that we strap him to the top of the barouche.”

Valeria laughed; and she was so pleased, realizing it was the first time she had laughed—or even smiled—in days.

Alastair grumbled, “Mother, that is not how it was, at all, and you know it. I merely asked Kincannon if that’s what he thought we would do, when he was stupid enough to suggest we bring Maledon home in one of the carriages.”

“I had no idea that you possessed such an acid wit, sir,” Valeria said.

“That’s because you don’t know me very well,” Alastair said, “which, of course, it would be my pleasure to remedy.”

Valeria stared at him, bemused for a moment, then shook her head. “But it is true. I’m appalled that you all have been obliged to get so deeply involved in all of this. I know you’re St. John’s and my godmother, ma’am, but I hardly think you envisioned being entangled in this sort of coil.”

Lady Hylton and Alastair exchanged quick glances, the import of which Valeria couldn’t fathom. Quickly Lady Hylton said, “Yes, well, there are some matters that we need to discuss with you, Valeria, concerning that. But for now, what about that Broadbent person?”

“His name is Broadbill,” Alastair corrected her.

“Broadbent, Broadbill, Bent, such stupid names, particularly for solicitors,” she said carelessly.

“I don’t care to have one more word with him,” Valeria said scathingly. “It’s useless. I’m convinced he could talk until dawn and we wouldn’t know a thing more than we do now.”

Trueman returned just then, and Valeria said, “Trueman, go tell Mr. Broadbent—I mean Mr. Broadbill—that we won’t be needing his services any longer. Tell him that we will contact him tomorrow.”

Trueman hesitated, glancing at Alastair, and then at Lady Hylton. It infuriated Valeria, but just as she was about to reprove him he bowed and left. “Oh! Am I to spend my entire life having men either looking through me as if I’m invisible, or else patting me on the head as if I’m a foolish little kitten?”

“No, you will not,” Lady Hylton said decisively.

“I have never, not once, patted you on the head,” Alastair said, “and I never shall. Even kittens can scratch.”

“I am not a kitten!” Valeria said angrily.

“I believe it was you who referred to yourself as a kitten.”

“I did not! At least, I said—what I said was—what I meant was—that men often treat women like helpless silly kittens. Just as you are now!”

“That’s not at all true,” Alastair countered.

“Be silent, children,” Lady Hylton said with amusement. “We do have some serious matters to discuss.”

Valeria said dryly, “Oh, yes, of course, we have gotten completely distracted from the topic of St. John’s money.”

“Actually, that’s not what we need to discuss with you, Valeria,” Lady Hylton said slowly. “At least, that is a part of it, but first I wanted to talk to you about your mother.”

“Yes, she is not coping very well at all,” Valeria said quietly. “It grieves me to see her so distraught. In all truth, ma’am, I think you are the only person who is really helping her just now.”

“She is my closest friend, and I would do anything in my power to help her. And that’s why I’m going to make a proposal to her that I believe will relieve her of much of her burden in this intolerable situation.”

Valeria glanced at Alastair, who remained impassive, and then asked, “What can you mean, ma’am?”

Lady Hylton seemed to choose her words carefully. “First let me explain to you about the decisions that your mother made when she married Maledon, and that includes facts about your legacy. Did you know that your father, Lord Segrave, left your mother twenty thousand pounds?”

“What?” Valeria breathed. “I had no idea…”

“I thought you did not,” Lady Hylton said with some regret, “and I’ve had some second thoughts about telling you all of this, since your mother didn’t think it was necessary. But in the last two days, as I’ve spoken to Regina, I’ve seen that she’s quite incapable of sorting all of this out, and she has, in so many words, asked me to talk to you. Yes, your father was a prudent man. Regina was poor when he married her; and as soon as he did, he made a will that left her twenty thousand pounds. Then, when you were born, he added that you were to have an annuity of two thousand pounds per annum. He always intended that, when you got older, and depending on circumstances, he would increase it so that you would have an extremely favorable dowry when you became of age. Of course, you were only five when he died, so he hadn’t made any such arrangements at that time.”

“Yes, my mother did explain that to me, when I was—oh, thirteen or fourteen, I suppose,” Valeria said thoughtfully. “And she said that when I got a little older, when it was time for me to marry, although that is a small sum, I should have a good amount saved up, as she had never used the moneys and had allowed the funds to accumulate.”

“That is what she did,” Lady Hylton said with disdain, “and that is what she assumed Maledon would do. You see, from the time your father died in November of 1798, until the time Regina married Maledon in 1804, you lived on the interest from her twenty thousand pounds. In the five percents, she received about one thousand pounds a year, and generally your household expenses were only about six hundred pounds a year. When she married Maledon, she had almost twenty-two thousand pounds.”

Valeria looked bewildered. “But—so—and my stepfather left her only ten thousand pounds?”

Lady Hylton grimaced, and Alastair’s lip curled slightly. Lady Hylton said shortly, “Yes, as we found out just today.”

“But—I can’t—and so my mother had saved my annuity up until that time, that would be—at least ten thousand pounds…” Valeria murmured.

“Actually, when Regina married, the balance of your annuity was well over eleven thousand pounds,” Lady Hylton said evenly. “And so there she was, with a fortune of over thirty thousand pounds. And I tried, oh, I tried so very hard, to convince Regina to have a cunning lawyer draw up marriage articles to secure that thirty thousand pounds, for you and for her. But she would have none of it.” Lady Hylton sighed. “Regina believed, and I think still believes, that it would have been a sin to do so. She said, over and over again, ‘When you marry, you are one person. If I cannot share everything with him, my heart, my love, and my worldly goods, then how can I think of marrying him?’”

“I know, she’s said much the same thing to me when I’ve questioned her,” Valeria said sadly. “But…I hate to say it…I wish that she would have thought more clearly about my worldly goods.”

“Of course you would feel that way now,” Lady Hylton said, “but you must know that Regina was doing what she felt was best for you. You understand, Valeria, that Regina is so—so unworldly, particularly when it comes to money, that she simply cannot make canny decisions. You heard her today; she thought that the three of you were going to have to live on five hundred pounds a year interest.”

“I know, and I can hardly bear to see her struggle so,” Valeria said passionately. “She’s just—just not capable of understanding financial complexities. So now here we are, with my mother utterly at a loss, and I cannot help her, since I have no legal standing. After all, I’m only the earl’s stepdaughter!”

“No, you are wrong,” Alastair said quietly. “You are the Earl of Maledon’s sister.”

Although of course Valeria knew this in her head, the truth of it had not really sunk in. She stared back and forth between her godmother and Lord Hylton.

Lady Hylton said, “And that, my dear, brings us to the crux of what we wish to propose to your mother. We think that a trusteeship should be formed to manage St. John’s estate. We think that it would be in St. John’s and your mother’s best interest to do this.”

“But who would be the trustee?” Valeria asked.

“I think that it should be a joint trusteeship,” Lady Hylton said. “You, and my son.”

“What! But—but surely—we could never impose—that is—I’m certain I could manage—there’s no need for Lord Hylton to assume such a wearisome obligation!” Valeria finally blurted out. She stared at him, appalled, and he, as always, appeared to be entirely neutral. His apparent indifference made her feel even more opposed to asking him for anything. In a calmer tone she said, “I know nothing about trusts, but surely, if I am made co-administrator with my mother, there would be no need for you to take on such a thankless task, sir. You couldn’t possibly have a vested interest in this, and it seems to me that it would be rather odd for a complete stranger to assume such a responsibility.”

Lady Hylton said carefully, “First of all, it would make no sense to appoint your mother as a trustee; she is already St. John’s legal guardian. Besides, the point is to relieve your mother of the burden of managing Bellegarde, and any other interests such as the investments that Maledon has made. And I realize that this is hard for you to accept, Valeria, but this is a man’s world. No eighteen-year-old girl will ever be accepted, on her own, as the sole administrator of a wealthy estate. You would face innumerable and insurmountable problems. You will need to be cotrustee with a man, and that is the sad and sour truth of it. Alastair is the logical choice, and he has agreed to do it. In fact, he volunteered.”

“But—it’s such a monstrous imposition! I can’t believe that my mother would agree to it,” Valeria argued. “She would feel as I do, that Lord Hylton would be vastly inconvenienced to be saddled with such a responsibility.”

“No, she won’t,” Lady Hylton said coolly. “Because she knows, you see, that Alastair does have a certain measure of responsibility for her, and St. John, and even you.”

Valeria cried, “What do you mean? I don’t understand! He owes me—us—nothing!”

Lady Hylton said dryly, “But he does. You see, Valeria, my sons are the nearest kindred to the earls of Maledon. Their kinship, though distant, is descended through the male line.”

Finally Valeria understood. Alastair, Lord Hylton, would have been the heir of Bellegarde if her stepfather had not had a son. If something happened to St. John—God forbid! resounded in her turbulent mind—Lord Hylton would inherit.

She was so shocked that for long moments she couldn’t breathe. And then all she felt was dismay.