The Dukes of Vauxhall
Page 39
Still, it had felt perilously close to neglect. That had stung—probably more than it should, if she had half a brain in her head.
“Well, I’m here now,” he said. “And I promise we’ll get everything sorted out.”
“Is there an annuity after all?” Granny asked.
When Jack hesitated, Lia knew what he would say. “No, Gran, I don’t think so.”
“Lia is unfortunately correct,” Jack said in a regretful tone. “My uncle did not leave an annuity for you, Aunt Rebecca. I’m so sorry.”
“But he left me something, did he not?” Granny asked in a hopeful voice. “Enough to set us up in a small house in the village, perhaps?”
Jack looked as if he’d accidentally ingested something toxic. “I’m afraid not.”
Lia flinched. She’d been preparing for the worst but had assumed they’d get some sort of small bequest—something to tide them over until she could think how to support them longer term. Granny’s lover had been a marquess, for heaven’s sake. Even though the estate was in poor financial health, surely he’d had other income to draw upon.
“And no dowry for me either, I’m sure,” she said, trying not to sound bitter.
Or terrified, even though that emotion lurked just below the surface. But without some sort of bequest to serve as a dowry, Lia had no hope of attracting a respectable suitor. Not that she’d been dangling for one, but she knew Granny had been pinning her hopes on that. After all, his lordship had promised years ago that he’d give Lia enough funds to overcome the stigma of her birth.
Now that hope was dying an ignominious death. Without anything from the estate, they would be almost entirely dependent on Jack for support.
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