The Gypsy Legacy: Marquis

by Denise Patrick

  “That’s wonderful news for Jon!” she exclaimed, then asked, “But, how? I thought the solicitors said he could do nothing without his guardian’s permission, or until he turned twenty-five.”

  Jay took the other chair. “As I understand it, my father promised him independence at age twenty-one. Unfortunately, my father did not live that long and left nothing in writing to confirm it, so the promise was never kept.”

  “That’s true,” she concurred. “But now…?”

  “I have decided I do not need to spend the next six months or more learning about an estate only to turn it over to someone else. Ergo, I wrote to his solicitor instructing them that from now on they should consult him on any matters concerning the earldom. I felt it was past time for him to shoulder his responsibilities. He, coincidentally, agreed with me.”

  “Jon has been at such a loss these past few years. He’s had too much and not enough to worry about. I know he has worried about Felicia and me here at the Park, but there just wasn’t much he could do about it. He tried to help us as much as he could, but the only other thing he could have done would have been to come back here to live—and that would have driven him mad. Jon is not one to be idle.”

  Jay watched the joy suffuse her face. Her expression inexplicably warmed him.

  “How has he been helping you?”

  She blushed. “He has been sending us part of his quarterly allowance to help make ends meet.” For a moment she looked disconcerted, almost embarrassed. “I—I don’t mean we didn’t appreciate the amounts left by your father, but we always seemed to need more, and Jon insisted he didn’t need all he received.”

  Jay was astounded. “You mean to tell me you exceeded the amount of your quarterly allowance on a regular basis?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

  Tina looked down at her hands in her lap, now clenched tightly together. She seemed so uncomfortable Jay nearly took back the question.

  “We—we have tried to live as frugally as possible, but it was such a small amount and there is much to do to keep up the house,” she revealed in an embarrassed whisper.

  Jay sat back in the chair in incredulous silence. He didn’t know what to think. He had seen the documents. She had a bloody fortune to live on each quarter, but she thought it was a small amount! She couldn’t make ends meet most quarters and had to rely on her brother for help. He glanced around the room again—what was she spending it on? And, did Roderick Milton approve of those expenditures?

  The thought of Roderick Milton brought him up short. Maybe that was the key. If, as Jay was beginning to suspect, Felicia’s words from the day before hadn’t been so wrong…?

  “How much is the quarterly allowance?”

  Tina looked up at him for a moment. Then she named a figure that had him grinding his teeth in pure frustration. “It has been gradually decreasing,” she told him. “It is due to run out at the end of July as it is. Although I still do not understand why Papa put such a clause in his will.”

  Jay was still in shock at the paltry amount she named, but the next statement propelled him out of his chair to pace the room. He wished Roderick Milton was standing in front of him—he’d like nothing more than to throttle him.

  “And just what, may I ask, did he think was to happen then? And what about Caro—er, Felicia?” he demanded.

  “I asked him that once, but he never really answered me. Of course, there is no doubt Jon would not have refused her. He has already promised her a season.” She watched him pace a few moments longer, then asked, “Is there something wrong, my lord?”

  “Hmmm?” He looked up from his pacing for a moment to pin her to the chair, a look of pure frustration on his face. “Oh. Wrong? Of course, there is something wrong! I am wrong! You are wrong! My father was definitely wrong! And Aaron, bloody idiot that he was, was the worst of all when it came to wrong, because it was he who introduced that leech Roderick Milton into this family!”

  She was clearly taken aback by this sudden tirade. He felt her eyes on him as she watched him resume his pacing, then ventured, “You mean Mr. Milton was…is…?”

  “Mr. Milton, I’m afraid, was exactly what Felicia claimed him to be. There are any number of possibilities for why he and Aaron became friends, but it was no doubt a windfall for him.” Jay brought himself up suddenly, realizing he was taking his frustration out on a complete innocent. Shaking his head to clear it, he turned to Tina, “I apologize. It has suddenly come to me that the whole family—with the exception of Felicia it seems—has been taken in by what may well have been a common thief. Roderick Milton has not only deprived you of the very generous allowance my father left you and Felicia, but I would hazard a guess that he has managed to siphon off amounts from the estate as a whole. That, however, remains to be seen as I will need to have Mr. Strate do a complete accounting as soon as possible.”

  “I see.” His mention of Felicia caused her to glance at the door again and he wondered if she expected Felicia to return. Apprehension surfaced in her eyes as she turned back to him. “I didn’t know. Once Papa turned over the running of the estate to Aaron, I was not allowed to be involved, except to visit the tenants. Even that became difficult after Mama died. Whenever I visited a tenant, something untoward befell them not long afterward.”

  “Such as?”

  Tina looked up at him, and he knew she was wondering if he had asked the question merely to be polite, or if he really wanted to know. But he did want to know so he waited. After a moment during which she watched him with wide, unblinking eyes, she answered the question.

  “Well, when I visited the Barnes a few months after Mrs. Barnes had their third child, I noticed their roof was leaking. I mentioned it to Mr. Milton and the next day the cottage caught fire and burned down, killing their baby girl.” He noticed a suspicious sheen to her eyes as she related the incident. “Then there was the time Mr. Staple’s plow horse got hold of some bad feed and nearly died, right after I visited Mrs. Staple.” She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes, her distress obvious. “There were many things that seemed to happen right after I visited someone or another that Mr. Milton had the tenants thinking I was cursed. I stopped going to the village because the tradespeople wouldn’t do business with me. Cook has had a hard time getting supplies or help because people are afraid of any one that lives here. Even the vicar refused to come when I asked him to tutor Felicia.”

  “Why?”

  Tina looked up. “Why? Oh, why wouldn’t the vicar come?”

  “No, why do you think Mr. Milton was so intent on driving you away? That is obviously what he was trying to do.”

  Tina shook her head. “I don’t know. Perhaps he was trying to get back at Mama. For some reason he hated gypsies and Mama’s grandmother was a gypsy. Mama never denied it and, after she died, he used it to turn most of the people in the area against us.”

  Jay was not surprised. Too many people had irrational feelings where gypsies were concerned. It surprised him that Aaron would have allowed such a situation if he was to marry Tina. Of course, it was likely this side of Mr. Milton had revealed itself only after Aaron’s death.

  “She would not let him live at the house, you see,” Tina continued, staring into the empty grate. “She didn’t trust him. Mama had a good sense of people and she didn’t trust him at all. She told me not to trust him, either. That’s why I moved Felicia and myself here after Mama died. I couldn’t keep him from moving into the house after that. The servants tried to help, but they were afraid for their jobs after he dismissed the cook and housekeeper. Many of them were too old to look for new positions.”

  “What happened to the cook and housekeeper; Mrs. Liston, wasn’t that the housekeeper’s name? She would have been quite old—she had been there since my father was a boy.”

  She turned back to him. “Yes. They both came here with Felicia and me, but Mrs. Liston died last winter. So, now there’s just Martha, the cook, but she’s getting on in years, too.”

  “I s
ee,” was his only comment. And, indeed, he had seen, and heard, enough.

  Tina studied the marquis as he spoke. It was obvious their circumstances had come as a shock to him. Perhaps now was the time to bring up the betrothal agreement and ask him what his intentions were. Now that he was back, the agreement loomed large in her thoughts. She wondered what he would do if she refused to marry him. Her mother had been of the opinion that she might not have a choice in the agreement, if he chose to honor it.

  Tina was aware her mother had asked the solicitor to destroy the agreement, but he had refused. Why, Tina had not been told. After all, as her mother said, the present marquis knew nothing about the agreement, so if it didn’t exist, what would it hurt?

  She had to admit to herself though, he was undeniably handsome. He didn’t seem at all like Aaron. She had to catch herself to keep from visibly shuddering at the thought of what marriage to Aaron might have been like.

  Jay had stopped pacing before the doors leading out to the overgrown garden, staring at something in the distance. He seemed lost in thought for a very long time before turning back to her.

  “There is still some unfinished business that you and I need to discuss, but first I must make sure the marquisate is still on solid ground. It worries me I can find no financial records at all, and this information of Roderick Milton’s perfidy where you and Felicia are concerned only serves to heighten my unease. I need to return to London as soon as possible and speak to Mr. Strate.”

  “I understand,” she said nervously, understanding that the unfinished business was, in all probability, the betrothal agreement.

  “However, while I am gone, you and Felicia will move back into the house and I would like you to put the household in order. It has obviously been allowed to lapse somewhat and will need a skilled chatelaine to do so.”

  Tina stared at him. “Move back into the house? But, why?”

  He seemed surprised by her question. “Why?” he repeated. “Because that is where you and Felicia should be living. As Felicia’s guardian, I cannot permit the two of you to continue to live here. This place is nearly falling down around you.” A hardness crept into his voice as he continued. “Roderick Milton has gone and the servants will be instructed not to admit him to the house again, should he reappear. I will also leave word giving you authority to make any changes you wish concerning the house, household, and any other estate matters requiring immediate attention.”

  He was obviously used to having his orders obeyed instantly. It made her wonder what he’d been doing for the last eighteen years. But, if he could assure her that Mr. Milton wouldn’t return, she was more than happy to move back into the home she’d grown up in. Felicia would be, too.

  “I see,” she replied. “Very well, we will move this afternoon.”

  He smiled and his eyes softened. She caught her breath at the transformation of his features.

  “Excellent.”

  *

  The Marquis of Thanet and the Earl of Wynton sat before a roaring fire, the small table between them sporting two glasses and a decanter of brandy. Deep in their own discussion, they were marginally aware of the curiosity of the other club members partaking of the hospitality to be found at White’s.

  Jonathan Richard Kenton, the Earl of Wynton, “Jon” to his family and friends, had arrived in London earlier in the afternoon. He presented himself at his solicitor’s and was immediately shown into the spacious office of Mr. Quentin Lyon where he spent the next two hours being given a thorough accounting of his holdings, interests, and finances. Then he had been handed the keys to Kent House and informed it had been fully staffed and aired. He was also advised the Marquis of Thanet was in town and had requested he call upon him at Thane House as soon as possible. Concerned something had happened to his sisters, he had gone straight there from the solicitor’s office.

  Once there, over a slightly more substantial tea than usual Jay filled him in on the activities of one Roderick Milton. Now he understood why it had been necessary for him to supplement his sisters’ allowance. Unfortunately, he blamed himself for not paying more attention to his stepfather’s interests. Had he done so, he might have discerned there was something wrong with the allowance his sisters had been given to subsist on.

  “There’s no use kicking ourselves over it now,” Jay was saying. “I’m just relieved the damage wasn’t worse. I, for one, am thankful my father had enough sense not to allow the steward to sell any of the property. While most of the properties have been so poorly neglected it will take some time to put them to rights, at least they are still part of the holdings. I suspect I will have to do a personal inspection of the mining properties to determine what is happening there.”

  Jon nodded in agreement as he continued.

  “And you are fortunate he was not able to have a say in the running of your estates. From what I have discovered, his hatred of your mother might have led him to destroy whatever inheritance you had.”

  “Thank God for small favors,” Jon agreed. “And, I can help you piece together some things he’s done merely because of Felicia.”

  Jay’s head snapped up. Smacking himself in the middle of his forehead with the palm of his hand, he groaned aloud. “I forgot. That was the reason I went to the dower house in the first place. To ask Felicia what she knew and whether she knew where the ledgers were. But we started out on the wrong foot when she wasn’t inclined to believe I was who I claimed to be. It wasn’t until she stormed out of the room and I spoke with your sister that I discovered Milton’s duplicity. I came straight to town from there, only stopping to have my curricle brought round and give orders regarding the two of them moving back into the house. I wasn’t sure what I might find.”

  Jon grinned. “Felicia can be disconcerting, can she not?”

  “That is an understatement,” Jay replied and related the scene he had witnessed between Felicia and the steward.

  When Jon’s laughter finally subsided, he said, “If I had known what the little baggage was up to, I wouldn’t have stayed at Oxford so long. Who knows what he might have done in retaliation if you hadn’t shown up.”

  “True. But it is likely that my appearance was the real reason he left.”

  They sat in silence for some time, each sipping their drinks. Then Jay spoke again.

  “Tell me what you know of my father’s will.”

  “Not much, I’m afraid. I was only 19 and Mother seemed to have things well in hand. I left it to her to manage. Your father left the care of my estate to my solicitors, so there was nothing for me to do. As for the contents of the will—Mother told me before she died. Her words to me were, ‘If he hadn’t already been dead when I found out, I would have wrung his neck’. But Tina doesn’t know. Mother didn’t want Tina to feel obligated to marry you.”

  Jay shook his head although a grin lightened his features. Now he knew who his stepsister inherited her spiritedness from. “What a tangle. So, how am I to marry her without deceiving her? I don’t know what my father thought he was doing, but he’s put her in an impossible situation.”

  “Actually,” Jon told him, “he did exactly what he promised. It’s the manner in which he chose to do it which is unfortunate.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jon closed his eyes for a moment as thoughts of his stepfather crowded his mind. He still missed him. Opening his eyes, he found Jay watching him, curiosity in his dark gaze. “Your father promised Tina when she was a little girl that Thane Park would someday be hers. He told her if she learned to manage the household and worked hard to become a proper lady, she would be the next Marchioness of Thanet. Mother was, as far as I’m aware, not privy to this promise. Tina only happened to mention it during a conversation she and I had after Mother died.”

  “I see.”

  “After Aaron died, he apparently told her if you didn’t return, she’d have to manage the entire estate.” Jon paused for a moment, then continued. “Unfortunately, she was never able to invol
ve herself in the running of the estate because she couldn’t get rid of Milton. Mother tried to dismiss him once, but he laughed at her and refused to leave. And the solicitor said since your father had left nothing that would allow Mother to have any say in appointing a steward and he was satisfied with Milton’s administration, he could stay.”

  “So, what happened then?”

  “I’m not sure. Mother couldn’t get rid of him, but she did something that kept him under control somewhat. To this day, I don’t know what she did, but it was another reason he hated her so much.” Jay looked up sharply. “You didn’t think I knew he hated her?” Jon asked, noticing the movement. “Yes, I knew. He wasn’t obvious about it when I was around. He never made any overt moves, but I was aware.”

  Jon glanced around the dimly lit room. There were only a few other men in the same room, and he wondered if they were listening to their low voiced conversation.

  “I have a detective looking into Milton’s background,” Jay said, “but I’m not sure he’s going to find much. It could be Roderick Milton was a fictitious name.”

  “We could do some asking ourselves. I have a few friends I knew at Oxford who might have known Aaron and his associates. Perhaps they could shed some light on our Mr. Milton.”

  “And even if it turns out Roderick Milton was a fictitious name, it had to be fictitious from the beginning, since Aaron introduced him to the family that way and I would hope Aaron wouldn’t have deceived our father by deliberately introducing someone into the household under an assumed name.” Unfortunately, the Aaron Jay had known was perfectly capable of doing just that.

  “True. And I know Aaron met him here in town, so someone else had to have known him. There might have even been someone around who was present at the duel in which Aaron was killed, although whoever he dueled with has probably left the country.”