The Reluctant Earl

by Joan Wolf

  But, as Liam had said to Elise when they were discussing their course of action, “The truth is, the earl’s a bastard and if he’s trying to screw Simon out of his inheritance, I’m going to stop him.”

  Elise had agreed.

  # # #

  The drive from Newmarket to Cambridge wasn’t overly long, and Liam and Simon reached the city before noon.

  “We need to find Bridge Street,” Liam said, as he slowed his mare to a walk.

  Simon’s head was swiveling back and forth, taking in the magnificent golden stone buildings on either side of them. “My father went to Oxford, but even Oxford couldn’t be more beautiful than this,” he marveled.

  “It’s grand,” Liam agreed. “But keep a look out for Bridge Street will you?”

  Simon looked at a signpost. “We’re on Bridge Street, Mr. O’Rourke. I just saw a sign.”

  “Grand. Now look for ‘Jesus Lane.’ Coke and Ambrose have their office on that corner. It’s a red brick building.”

  They found the building, they left the horses in the mews, and together, man and boy walked into the law office of Coke and Ambrose.

  Their appointment was with Mr. Coke. The elderly secretary showed them into an impressive office lined by floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with fat, leather-bound books. The man sitting behind the large desk was younger than Liam had expected, in his early forties perhaps. He rose when they came in and shook hands with his visitors.

  “Shall I bring in tea, sir?” the elderly secretary inquired.

  Mr. Coke looked inquiringly at his guests. “Not for me, thanks,” Liam said.

  “Nor me,” Simon agreed.

  Mr. Coke said, “No tea, John. I’ll ring if I need you.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Coke.” The secretary effaced himself quietly.

  The man behind the desk looked from Liam to Simon and Liam watched the surprise on the solicitor’s narrow, intelligent face as Coke took in Simon’s extraordinary face. There was always that moment of astonishment for anyone who had never met Simon before. Coke masked it well, however, and when he spoke it was with quiet dignity. “Lord Woodbridge, suppose you tell me why you have come to see me today.”

  Simon related his story, beginning with the comment from the earl’s solicitor and including the information Liam had learned from the squire. His voice was level and his details were concise. Liam was proud of him.

  When Simon had finished Coke looked into the air above their heads, his brows furrowed. Simon shot a quick glance at Liam and Liam gave a slight shrug.

  Finally Mr. Coke said, “Such a bequest is highly unusual. It is possible to create a trust so that if the husband dies, part of the wife’s money comes back to her. But to create a trust for the eldest son? Very unusual. In fact, I’ve never heard of it.”

  “But it can be done?” Liam asked.

  “It must have been done if the earl’s solicitor spoke to Lord Woodbridge about it. The question I would like to have answered is: can Lord Welbourne make a reasonable challenge in regard to the trust’s legality? To answer that question I should have to see the exact wording of the trust document. The wording of such a document would have to be very specific to ensure the earl could not touch it.”

  Simon asked, “Is it possible for you contact Mr. Pitt and ask to see the paperwork?”

  “I can do that, but we have another issue here. You are underage, Lord Woodbridge. You cannot be my client.”

  “I will be eighteen in three weeks, Mr. Coke.”

  “Yes, but the age of majority in England is twenty-one, my lord.”

  “Can Mr. O’Rourke be your client then? He could act for me.”

  “Mr. O’Rourke has no legal status in regard to your lordship. He is not a relative and he has not been made your guardian by a court.”

  For the first time Simon sounded like the boy he was: “He’s been more of a father to me than my own father ever was! He’s the only one who cares what happens to me! There must be some way to make it legal for him to act for me.”

  “Lord Woodbridge,” the solicitor said gently, “consider Mr. O’Rourke’s position. He is an employee of your father. What do you think your father would do if he learned that Mr. O’Rourke was challenging his right to this inheritance?”

  All of the color drained from Simon’s face. “He’d dismiss him.”

  “Just so.”

  Simon turned to Liam, distress in his eyes. “I should never have brought you into this, Mr. O’Rourke. If you should lose your position….”

  Liam held up his hand. “Hush, Simon. There is another way.”

  He turned back to the solicitor and the two men looked at each other. “I could contact the Jarvis family,” Mr. Coke said.

  “I’m thinking that’s the path to take,” Liam agreed. “They may not be pleased to learn about how Lord Woodbridge is being treated.”

  Mr. Coke nodded slowly. “I’ll find out who represents the Jarvises and speak to him. Then we’ll see what happens.”

  Liam got to his feet and held out his hand. The two men shook. Simon extended his hand as well. Then Liam said, “Would you mind waiting in the office for a minute, Simon? I have a small question of my own to ask Mr. Coke.”

  “Of course.” Simon gave the solicitor his gravely beautiful smile and left the two men alone.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, Coke said, “That is an amazing boy. Does he know how beautiful he is?”

  Liam smiled crookedly. “He knows but he doesn’t care. He’s the least vain creature I’ve ever met.”

  Coke nodded, still looking at the door that had closed behind Simon. Then he turned to Liam. “What is it you wish to speak to me about, Mr. O’Rourke?”

  “Your bill,” Liam said bluntly. “Simon doesn’t have two farthings to his name. If you will send your bill to me, I’ll see it gets paid. If he asks me about it, I’ll say you’re willing to wait until he receives his inheritance. He’d be upset if he knew I was paying.”

  “Very well.” Coke extended his hand one more time. “Lord Woodbridge is fortunate to have such a good friend in you, Mr. O’Rourke.”

  “He’s a grand boy and I want to see justice done, that’s all. Good day to you, sir.”

  Liam joined Simon in the front room, and they repaired to a local inn for sustenance before they set off for the drive home.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mr. Coke acted with dispatch and within a few days he had sent a letter off to the firm of Elbury and Masterson, solicitors for the Jarvis family. The reply came from Mr. Richard Jarvis himself, the present head of The Jarvis Bank. He introduced himself as Lord Woodbridge’s uncle and asked for an appointment with Coke, naming the day and time that would be most convenient for Jarvis. Mr. Coke replied that the appointment time indicated by Mr. Jarvis was acceptable, and he looked forward to meeting the banker on that date. Next he sent an urgent letter to Liam requesting his presence at the meeting, since he was the person most familiar with Lord Woodbridge’s situation.

  Liam told Elise about the meeting, but said nothing to Claire or Simon. On the appointed day he hitched up one of his thoroughbreds and set off for Cambridge. He had given Claire his usual reason for making a trip – going to see a man about a horse – and he knew she would pass the excuse along to Simon.

  Mr. Coke had arranged his office with several comfortable chairs and a table set for tea. Liam arrived first and Coke had a chance to fill him in on the Jarvis family background. Richard Jarvis was one of the most powerful men in the city. He was also one of the wealthiest. Simon’s grandfather had died some fifteen years before, and Richard had taken over the bank leadership. There were two other brothers also involved with the bank, but Richard was the man at the top.

  Coke and Liam had just settled into their chairs when Richard Jarvis was announced. Both men stood up again and turned toward the door. As Coke went to greet the newcomer, Liam looked him over. Jarvis was a tall, well-built man with thick gray hair and a nose like a knife. Lines scored t
he flesh between his nose and his mouth. Liam judged him to be in his fifties.

  When Coke introduced Liam, Jarvis held out his hand. The banker had a firm grip and he looked directly into Liam’s eyes as he shook. The impression Liam got from the face and the steady blue eyes was one of razor-sharp intelligence.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. O’Rourke,” Jarvis said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Jarvis. It’s an honor,” Liam replied.

  The three men sat and Coke offered tea.

  “Not just now,” Jarvis said. “First I want to hear about my nephew.”

  Both men turned expectantly to Liam, who began to relate the story of Simon’s life. He wanted to be succinct, but he was determined to make Jarvis understand just how neglected Simon had been. He ended by saying, “The boy knows nothing of his mother’s family. His father never speaks of them and Lord Woodbridge has just assumed he had no relatives on his mother’s side. When he learned of this bequest he asked me if I could do a bit of investigation for him. That is how we came to Mr. Coke.”

  There was silence from Richard Jarvis as he looked fixedly at the space just above Liam’s head. His hands were gripping the arms of his chair so tightly that Liam noticed his knuckles had turned white from the pressure he was exerting. When Jarvis finally spoke there was a note of suppressed emotion in his voice.

  “I am sure you must think badly of my family, Mr. O’Rourke, and I am grateful to you for your kindness to my nephew. Let me assure you that after my sister died, we tried very hard to have contact with Simon, but Welbourne wouldn’t allow any of my family near the child. When Annabelle gave birth to Simon, Welbourne forced her to cut off all contact with us. After she died, he absolutely refused to allow us to see her son. My father tried to go to court to force the earl to let him have access to his grandchild, but …” here his face flushed and his eyes flashed, “Welbourne was an earl and the Jarvises were just middle-class bankers who had tried to jump up in the world by marrying one of their daughters into the nobility. It was made very clear to my father that Simon didn’t belong to us; he was Welbourne’s heir and he belonged to the earl. We were to keep away.”

  Jarvis shut his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again they were bright with unshed tears. “My father was livid. He actually drove to Welbourne and demanded entrance to the house.” The lines in his face seemed to deepen. “Welbourne had his footmen forcibly take my father back to his carriage and he gave orders to the coachman to leave.” Jarvis’s mouth set in a grim line. “My father came home a broken man. He never got over losing Annabelle, and then, to lose her child as well. He took to his bed and died three months later. I never believed people could die of a broken heart, but my father surely did.”

  Liam said softly, “A tale of great sorrow, Mr. Jarvis.”

  “Yes, it is. It started when my father decided to marry my sister into the nobility. He was a brilliant man, my father, and incredibly successful, yet he was never accepted into the highest level of English society. In that closed little world, as I’m sure you have noticed,” and here his eyes moved from Liam to Coke, both of them successful, middle class men, “in that world, virtues such as intelligence, moral fiber, education, talent, all of those splendid qualities, count for nothing without birth.

  He paused, clearly trying to collect his temper. “Well … my father doted on Annabelle, his only daughter. She was a beautiful girl and he wanted her to have a title. She deserved a title, he thought. So poor little Annabelle, at the age of eighteen, was married to the Earl of Wellbourne, a man twelve years older than she.”

  “The marriage settlement must have been significant,” Mr. Coke said drily.

  “It was. Welbourne was deeply in debt and my father paid off all his creditors. My father also added enough money for the earl to bring his estates up to snuff so he would have a decent income for the rest of his life. The Earl of Welbourne did very well out of Annabelle.”

  Jarvis’ voice was deeply bitter.

  “I assume the bequest to Lord Woodbridge was included in the marriage settlement,” Mr. Coke said.

  “Yes. My father insisted upon it. Annabelle and Welbourne’s eldest son was to receive the sum of one hundred thousand pounds, plus the interest it accrued while it was invested. I have invested it in the five percents, so it has increased in value quite nicely.”

  Liam stared in astonishment. One hundred thousand pounds! That was a fortune.

  Jarvis was continuing, “Welbourne didn’t like it, but my father had been so generous he couldn’t protest. Compared to the money he was getting, it was a pittance.”

  Liam blinked at the thought of one hundred thousand pounds – plus interest - being called a pittance.

  “Our solicitor drew up the paperwork for the trust and made sure it was worded in such a way that it could not be broken.”

  Coke said, “Eighteen is not the age of legal majority. Lord Woodbridge cannot legally have charge of his money until he turns twenty-one. Was there a trustee named to administer the money until he comes of age?”

  “Yes. My father named me.”

  Thanks be to God it wasn’t Welbourne, Liam thought.

  “My position as trustee of the inheritance does not make me Simon’s guardian, of course. His guardian will still be his father. But this inheritance gives me a legal reason to enter Simon’s life, and I intend to take advantage of it.”

  “That would be grand,” Liam said. “The boy needs someone to stand up to Lord Welbourne.”

  Jarvis sat for a moment in silence, his eyes on Liam. “Would you say that Welbourne was a more distant father than usual among the nobility, Mr. O’Rourke?”

  Liam smiled wryly. “I’m not exactly an expert on the English nobility, Mr. Jarvis, but I would say the earl has gone out of his way to reject Simon. It’s more than just the lack of time a busy father has for his offspring. It has always seemed to me a deliberate attempt to crush Simon’s spirit. They don’t even want him to see his little brother. He has to sneak time with Charlie when the earl and countess are gone.” Liam shook his head. “I have always found it … diabolical. On the part of the earl - and his second wife, Simon’s stepmother, as well.”

  “But why? Why not allow my family to visit my sister’s son? Why isolate him as they have tried to do?”

  “If I could answer that question, Mr. Jarvis, I would surely. But I don’t know.”

  The three men sat in contemplative silence for a full minute. Then Richard Jarvis got to his feet, followed by the other men. He held out his hand to Liam and said, “You have been very kind to my nephew, Mr. O’Rourke. He is a lucky boy to have had you and your family in his life.”

  Liam smiled the light-up-the-world smile he had passed along to Claire. “In truth, Mr. Jarvis, Simon is as dear to me as my own son would be. He’s a grand boy. None grander, in my opinion. I’m that happy he will know your family.”

  Richard Jarvis smiled back. It was impossible not to respond to that smile of Liam’s. Then he turned to Coke and said, “I will handle all the bills attached to this case, Mr. Coke. Have them sent to my solicitor.”

  Liam thought about protesting, then he didn’t. The Jarvises were well able to handle a few legal bills. He said, “I will tell Simon. He’ll be that pleased.”

  After another round of handshakes the banker was gone, leaving Coke and Liam alone in the room. Coke turned to Liam and said, “I shouldn’t worry about Lord Woodbridge’s future any longer, Mr. O’Rourke. It’s in good hands now.”

  “That it is,” Liam said with great satisfaction. “That it is.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  While Liam and Simon were meeting with Richard Jarvis in Cambridge, Claire was spending the morning with her friend Charlotte at Winsted, the Weston’s house. Mrs. Weston was planning a picnic party for some of the young people of the neighborhood, and Charlotte had asked Claire if she would help with the invitations. The library at Winsted was an oak paneled room with a marble fireplace, glass-fronted bookcases, a big
desk and an assortment of comfortable chairs. The two girls were sitting opposite each other at the desk when Geoffrey came into the room.

  Claire’s back was to the door, and Geoffrey looked at Charlotte, while holding a finger to his lips. He crossed the worn Persian carpet softly and put his hands over Claire’s eyes.

  “Guess who?” he demanded.

  She had heard his step behind her and said calmly, “It must be some idiot who thinks it’s amusing to try to scare people out of their wits.”

  He dropped his hands. “You knew it was me.”

  “You’re not exactly light on your feet, Geoffrey.” She smiled up at him. “I thought you were visiting a friend in Surrey.”

  “I was, but now I’m home.” He pulled a chair closer to the desk and disposed himself comfortably. Geoffrey Weston was a good-looking young man with light brown hair and hazel eyes. He had his father’s big frame but had not yet filled out to the size he would be in future. His hazel eyes swept over Claire, from the top of her smoothly drawn back hair to the soft black slippers on her feet. Claire always wore her old brown boots when she rode to the squire’s house, but she kept a pair of indoor shoes in Charlotte’s room, as well as a change of clothes in case she was caught in the rain.

  “You’re looking very well, Claire,” he said.

  Claire gave him an ironic look. “A compliment from Geoffrey,” she said. “Amazing.”

  He grinned and looked at the writing paper on the desk. “Mother told me you were writing invitations for her. She’s having some kind of a picnic?”

  “Yes,” Charlotte replied. “Just for a few of our friends. Mary and Frank Bingham, Louisa Merton, Harry Morse, Margaret Compton….” She looked at Claire. “Have I left anyone out?”