She refused to look at any of them while she sat in silence, not bothering to give conversation. It didn’t matter, her father was reading the paper, her mother picking at her bread with a smile of triumph on her face.
“Oh,” her father’s startled outburst, stopped both women from finishing their bites.
All eyes turned to him. It was a rare occurrence to have her father make any sounds over dinner.
“Well. What is it?” her mother asked testily when it became apparent that her father was not going to enlighten them on his own.
Her father squinted, continuing his reading, not bothering to acknowledge her mother’s annoyed tone. Finally, he cleared his throat, not looking at either of them.
“Daniel Longman has just passed away,” he said quietly, a troubled expression on his brow.
Patience’s stomach lurched, upsetting the food that had settled there.
“Walter’s brother?” she whispered.
“How did he die?” Her mother seemed as interested as Patience though most likely for vastly different reasons. Her mother always had to be in the know so she could be the first to spread the best bits of gossip to the women in the neighborhood.
“Carriage accident, it seems.” He brought concerned eyes to them.
As Patience exchanged a glance with her mother, she was amazed to see such distress behind her eyes.
“How does one die from a carriage accident?” Her mother broke into her own quiet distress.
“It’s vague. Sounds like an unlikely accident, but I’m sure it happens.” Her father folded the newspaper, setting it aside.
Patience snatched it up before her mother could say any more on the subject. She tore it open, finding the story and reading over it so she could decipher all the details for herself.
“Poor Walter,” she murmured.
Her father tore a chunk of bread with his fingers.
“He’s set to inherit his family’s estate now that his brother is gone,” he said, almost too quietly to hear.
Patience’s eyes widened as his words sank in. She gulped, trying to process it all. Walter would be heartbroken.
Her mother’s eyes burned into her father’s. “Unlikely he’ll claim it. He’s too busy becoming a barrister in London.”
“He’ll need to return home to sort out the family affairs. He has his young sister to look after.” His eyes grew distant. “As well as his mother. He wouldn’t abandon them.” He shook his head, as if coming out of a fog.
Her father’s words replayed in her head. He’ll need to return home. Walter would be returning to Wallingford if only for a little while to set his affairs in order. He now had an estate on his hands. Not as wealthy as Lord Seton’s, of course, but enough to settle down— Patience shot her eyes back to her mother to see her reaction. Her eyes were narrowed, taking in Patience’s reaction.
She hissed as she threw her napkin onto the table. “No, Patience, you are not to go behind my back and carry on with that man under any circumstances.”
“I would never carry on, Mama!”
Heat rose to her cheeks at the implication. How could her own mother have such a low opinion of her? And more importantly, why was her mother so against Walter?
“I only thought he might be more appealing to you now that he has inherited his own house and lands.”
Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but her mother didn’t seem to notice.
Her father cleared his throat. “There are advantages to Patience and Mr Longman’s union,” he said, coming to her defense for the first time in her life.
Both Patience and her mother gaped openly at him.
He lowered his eyes. “There are advantages to having such connections. And we would be able to combine our estates. I would have thought you’d welcome the rise in status.” He brought his eyes back to her mother. “And it’d keep our Patience close by.”
He looked away as if he knew what the response would be. But Patience just gawked as she hadn’t seen him so sentimental in years.
Her mother’s eyes were so piercing, Patience thought her father would be sliced into ribbons.
“We’ve already turned him away. Patience will have more suitable suitors.”
“But I don’t want any other suitors—” Patience argued, but her mother’s piercing glare silenced her.
“We will end this discussion here and now,” her mother spit out after a strained silence. She turned her attention to her roast duck, acting as if nothing had happened. “I’m thinking of adding cabbage to the garden this year.” She turned to her father. “Is that not a good idea?”
Patience looked to her father, but he’d already settled into submission. “Whatever you like, dear.”
She would have thought it comical had they not been discussing her future happiness. Patience slammed her napkin onto the table and stood hastily, all thought of finishing her meal gone.
As she stormed out of the room, her thoughts settled on Walter. Daniel’s death was so sudden. The heartache he must be feeling would be acute. Life was so fragile and could be taken instantly. She felt his loss keenly as she trudged up the steps, blanketing herself into her room again.
As she rested on her bed, her heart beat against her chest. The thought of Walter returning to Wallingford unsettled her. But a small bit of hope rose to her chest. She would be able to talk to him face to face. Resolve things. Find out why he wouldn’t return her letters. She had a feeling he couldn’t forgive her. Her chest constricted when she thought of the pain she must have caused him when feigning a courtship with Lord Seton.
She stopped suddenly, a terrible thought piercing her focused musings. What if he’d moved on? Or found someone he cared for in London?
She banished the image from her mind. There was no need to worry without knowing all the facts. Instead, she focused on being able to see Walter again. No matter that her mother had forbidden it. She would find a way to comfort Walter in his time of grief. The thought of seeing him again lifted her spirits. She would make things right. This whole incident would be but a painful memory. Walter was not so unfeeling as to deny her an audience and allow her to explain.
Chapter Three
WALTER LOCKED HIS OFFICE door before moving to Mr Welch’s rooms. As he came to the office, he stared at the closed door, his throat dry. He had no idea if he would still have a seat on the case once he told his mentor the news. There was no getting around the situation. He was needed at home. As the new heir, he had certain responsibilities. His mind still spun with the news he had just received by post that morning. It was most unexpected. Tragic. And very poor timing.
He knocked on the door and listened, his muscles rigid. He had worked too hard to get where he was, he would not let his position go without a fight. The door opened, revealing Mr Welch in his robes. The startled expression in his eyes made Walter smile for a moment before he remembered his purpose in being here.
The man blinked up at Walter, a telling sign he’d been woken from a nap.
“Come in, Mr Longman.”
Walter obeyed but didn’t sit as Mr Welch tidied his appearance. When the man looked back at him, Walter fingered his top hat, shuffling from foot to foot. Mr Welch took a moment to take him in before his brows creased into a frown.
“Is something the matter?”
“I’m afraid so.” Walter swallowed to wet his dry throat. “My brother... I just found out this morning he has passed away.”
Mr Welch’s features shifted, his eyes dark and somber. “I am sorry for your loss.”
Walter clenched his jaw, dreading what he had to say next. “I must go to Wallingford. Settle affairs and whatnot.”
If this man posed any resistance, he was prepared to argue. Lay the facts at his feet and plead his case as to why he was still the best man for the job.
Mr Welch nodded. “I understand. I take it you will be unable to work on the Vanderbilt case?”
“I still plan to take it on,” Walter said quickly. “Bu
t I’ll need a little more time. If you could send me regular letters concerning the case, I would be much obliged.”
Walter held his breath, hoping the man would not put up too much resistance.
“It is highly irregular.” Mr Welch scratched at his beard. “I will see what I can do. But hurry back, Mr Longman, or the council will be forced to assign someone else in your stead.”
Walter stepped forward, locking his gaze with Mr Welch’s.
“I need this case,” he said quietly. “You understand that?”
“I do.” Mr Welch clapped Walter on the shoulder. “Do what you must in Wallingford. I will hold down the case here until your return.”
“Thank you.” A rush of relief at Mr Welch’s words flooded him.
It had not been as hard as he’d expected to assure his holdings. He shouldn’t have been surprised. The man had been a steady mentor and an even better friend as he traversed the waters of his chosen career.
Mr Welch offered his hand, and Walter clasped it tightly, giving it a firm shake.
“Safe travels.” Mr Welch’s smile was slight. “I’ll send specifics by special courier once any new details are given.”
Walter nodded, a new relief within his chest. The constriction he’d felt upon hearing the news loosened.
“Thank you, I shall return as soon as I am able. I will not rest until I can get to the bottom of what truly happened to the deceased in the case. I fear there is something even more nefarious than we had supposed. I just need to find the proof.”
Mr Welsh broadened his smile. “I knew there was more to you. I have every confidence you will sniff out any misdeeds.”
Walter returned home, a small loft in northern London. His apartments lay on the third story, right above a dress shop. His residence only had space enough for him, and that was how he liked it—until he found a wife, at least. One who would appreciate his new status. It irritated him that his Patience’s lovely face swam in his memory at the thought of a wife. She did not have the strength of character he needed in a wife. She’d proven it time and again with her actions. All he was left to do now was remember her as the spirited girl from his youth. Though womanhood had weakened her, he could still treasure his memories of her.
He walked into his bedroom and pulled out his trunks. He threw his clothing inside, not heeding the items he packed as his mind wandered to his brother.
Daniel was gone. It didn’t seem real. He couldn’t imagine his healthy elder brother gone so soon, at only thirty. And Henrietta—what must she be feeling? His heart ached at the thought of his little sister in mourning.
His mother would be shattered too. They all had a close relationship, especially after illness took their father. Walter grit his teeth, quickly finishing up his packing. He would leave first thing tomorrow morning and rent a carriage. It was not a full-day’s journey to Wallingford, his childhood home. Patience would be there. He slammed his trunk closed. He mustn’t think of her, not on top of everything else that was going on in his life. She would be one more worry that needn’t concern him.
HENRIETTA FLUNG THE door open and rushed out to greet Walter as he pulled up to his estate. It wasn’t large, but still held credible status among the neighbors. Well-manicured greenery surrounded the home, and a small fishing pond lay nestled behind the house. He was in charge of only a handful of tenants, and they hired some villagers to maintain the grounds. All in all, it was a property in which to be proud.
Henrietta’s blonde hair was tied back from her face, a large red-black bow as a simple decoration. She rushed at him once he alighted, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Walter held his fifteen-year-old sister, the reality of their loss settling in.
His mother stood at the front door, her face splotchy and her eyes distant.
Walter pulled back from Henrietta, brushing away a tear that slid down her face.
“It will be alright,” he promised her.
She nodded as she reigned in her emotions. Walter wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her through the front door. He pulled his mother into a hug with his other arm. He could feel her trembling under him, and it clinched his heart to know the reason. Daniel was gone. Walter was the man of the family now and must be fully present to buoy his family in their grief.
After a few minutes of silence punctuated by a few sniffles, his mother pulled away and gestured them into the drawing room. “Come in, Walter. You must be exhausted from your journey.”
He obeyed his mother, noting more antiques than he’d remembered propped resolutely against the walls. Original paintings hung on every side of the room that was papered in neutral colors.
Though there were more things, the room seemed darker than he remembered. He sat in front of his mother, molding into a winged back chair.
“How was your journey?” his mother asked.
“As expected, long and dull.” He tried for a smile but found he couldn’t when he looked into his mother’s grief-stricken face. “How did it happen?” he asked quietly.
Henrietta let out a shuddering whimper, but his mother proceeded to give him the details.
“Daniel took the carriage out, as he so often does, but this time—” she shot grief-stricken eyes to his. “We’re not quite sure what happened, but it rolled down the side of a ravine. A wheel had fallen off. The carriage must have been faulty as it was relatively new.” Her face caved. “He was crushed.”
The image played in Walter’s mind: his brother, happily guiding the horses down the road, then being jerked off the cliff as the carriage broke down. Walter ground his teeth, hoping his elder brother hadn’t suffered much pain as it fell.
“The neighbors found him,” Henrietta whispered, her head on their mother’s shoulder.
Walter cleared his throat. “Have you made any arrangements for the funeral?”
“We were hoping you would work out the details. I fear I am not up to the task.”
He nodded at her agitation. “I will take care of everything. You have no more need to worry. I am sorry I was not here when it happened so I could have given you comfort sooner.”
“Thank you, my dear son, I shall rest easier knowing you are here.”
He gave his mother a half smile, his nerves on their last thread. He would look at the accounts then go to his room and wash the dust from his journey.
“Did Daniel keep a record of finances? I need to see our state of affairs before I can move forward,” he asked.
His mother nodded. “All his books were kept in the library.”
Walter stood. “I will be in the library then.”
His mother frowned. “You aren’t going to rest a bit?”
He shook his head. “I’m needed in London. I have a large case I’m working on. If it ends satisfactorily, I can give you and Henrietta the comfort that is your due. The sooner I can handle Daniel’s affairs, the better.” He approached his mother and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be down for dinner.”
She grabbed at his arm, stopping his progress. “Daniel kept us in every comfort. I am sure you can finish your business in London and have a very comfortable life here in Wallingford.”
He stiffened, taking in all the new trinkets in the room. Something was off. He knew the estate could not handle this much lavish spending. It was the reason he’d been groomed for a profession.
He left the women in their comfort, mounting the stairs to the library. Entering it gave him a keen sense of nostalgia. This had been his father’s study before he’d died. Closing his eyes, Walter inhaled, breathing in the scent of oak and books.
The desk he used to hide under as a boy stood empty across the room. Walter shut the door behind him and approached the desk, running a hand over its smooth surface. He took a moment to compose himself, then sat behind the sturdy bureau, pulling out the drawers one by one.
He found the financial records quickly. Taking a deep breath, he opened the book of accounts and began to sort through them. Bill aft
er bill was wedged in between the pages. His mother had been right—the carriage had been purchased last year for a handsome sum. He frowned at the manufacturer’s name. Because of their faulty product, his brother was dead. A strong desire to take them to court mounted as he stared at the bill.
Before he could let blame be placed, his lawyer brain kicked in, needing proof before he disparaged anyone’s name. He’d take a look at the wrecked carriage himself to determine what had happened. It could have been negligence on Daniel’s end, as hard as that was to consider.
He continued to shuffle through the receipts until he found the ledger of their funds. His heart plummeted into his stomach as he stared at the final and most recent sum.
The estate was a mess, the title to the house collateral to the mounting debts. Walter clenched his jaw, flipping back through the receipts. How could Daniel have been so reckless? Why hadn’t he been told? And why did Daniel continue making unnecessary purchases knowing they had no money?
As a soft knock sounded on the door, Walter quickly closed the book.
His mother gingerly peeked her head in. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked gently, her motherly concern taking precedence over her grief.
“Yes.” Walter hoped his voice didn’t betray his discovery.
“The vicar has just arrived. Would you like to talk to him?”
Walter nodded as he stood. His head spun with the new information he had just acquired. “I’ll be down in a moment.”
She gave him a small, sad smile. “It is so good to have you back home. I have missed your steady influence.”
“I have missed you too, Mother.” He stood, giving his mother another embrace, thankful to still have her in his life.
As his mother left the room, he braced himself on the desk, hissing out a breath at the position he’d been left in.
“Daniel, what were you doing?” he muttered.
They would have to go into further debt to pay for the funeral, he realized. And he would be responsible for paying them off.
The Barrister's Challenge: A Regency Romance (Heirs of Berkshire Book 2) Page 2
