On this I set my hand and seal, on the day and year first written above.
Daniel sat back in his hard-backed chair in the office of Bros. William and Thompson, glaring at the dour-faced lawyer sitting on the other side of the desk. “The old dragon,” he muttered. “She always did insist on having her own way.”
Beside him, her hand tightly clasped in his, Clare shook with suppressed laughter.
“I will just give you a moment to absorb the news,” said the lawyer, standing up and straightening his waistcoat. As he made his retreat, Clare devolved into an audible snicker.
“I suppose you think this is amusing?” Daniel scowled down at his wife of two weeks, but there was no heat in his words. He could not, however, say the same for his gaze, and he could see she noticed by the way her own eyes darkened. A marvelous flush spread across her cheeks, as though anticipating what he might do to her later for her insolence, when they found a private moment.
“Well.” Clare pursed her lips. “She claims she is of sound mind. And you did refuse to have anything to do with my inheritance when we drew up our marriage contract.”
“Because I earned no part of it,” he protested. “That money is yours, to do with as you would.”
“And this is yours, Daniel. Apparently whether you like it or not.” She smiled, and he caught a glimpse of that slight crooked tooth. As always, the sight sent pleasure spreading through him. “Truly,” she said, “did you expect anything less? Lady Austerley orchestrated our lives from the moment we met. Do you remember the night of her musicale, when she practically tossed us into the library?”
This time it was his turn to smile. “Yes.” Christ, how he remembered. And he was grateful for the old woman’s foresight, nearly every day. He went to bed every night eager to make love to the woman whose hand was now clasped in his.
And each morning, he awakened to the glorious improbability of Clare in his arms.
She reached out a hand and picked up the damning bit of paper that would decide his future. “Look at the date.” She pointed to the top of the page. “Lady Austerley drafted this will the day before her musicale. She knew then, you see, that we were meant to be. So in my mind, the main question here is do you plan to reject an old lady’s last will and testament, when she was clearly so right about us?”
“No. I will not reject it.” Daniel exhaled, already thinking of the possibilities, damn Lady Austerley’s sweet, meddling heart. In truth, it was a position he would be quite honored to have . . . under less questionable circumstances. “But I do object to being manipulated from the grave.”
“She understood what drove you, and she’s found a way to make not only our dreams come true, but the dreams of thousands. Think of how many people you could help with this bequest. How many surgeries your anesthetic regulator could assist, how many lives might be saved. People like Handsome Meg would have a place to be healed, with no regard to income or class. Think on it a moment. Think of what she’s done.” The smile spread more widely across her face. “Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d be tempted to suspect Lady Austerley was a Chartist.”
In spite of himself, Daniel laughed. “I would not be surprised.” He sobered. “She always did choose the most cantankerous path possible.” He still missed the dowager countess, but more and more he found himself remembering her spirit with a smile, rather than with sorrow. “You are right,” he admitted. “And although it pains me to say it, it seems Lady Austerley is right as well. It is a perfect opportunity, and I will not squander it for pride.” He frowned. “But I can’t quite wrap my head around the sum. Will three hundred thousand be enough to establish the sort of ward that could help thousands of people?”
“Perhaps.” Clare’s hand squeezed his. “But if it isn’t, then we will have to seek additional donors.” Her hazel eyes sparkled. “Now . . . who do you know with poise and grace, someone who was once widely acknowledged to be one of the most sought-after women in London?”
He grinned. “Lady Austerley?”
The grip of her hand turned to more of a warning pinch. “Someone who is still with us, and who is still accepted in at least some drawing rooms across London, thanks to her familial connection to a future duke?”
Daniel’s lips quirked upward. “You, of course.” He leaned over to press a kiss to the top of her head. “My wife.” He breathed in the floral scent of her, so grateful for her quiet strength. “My love.”
“Well then, Dr. Merial. Best get started.” She beamed up at him. “We shall do this together, whether Lady Austerley approves or not.”
About the Author
A veterinarian and infectious disease researcher by training, JENNIFER McQUISTON has always preferred reading romance to scientific textbooks. She resides in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband, their two girls, and an odd assortment of pets, including the pony she promised her children if mommy ever got a book deal. Jennifer can be reached via her website at www.jenmcquiston.com or followed on Twitter @jenmcqwrites.
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Romances by Jennifer McQuiston
DIARY OF AN ACCIDENTAL WALLFLOWER
HER HIGHLAND FLING: A NOVELLA
MOONLIGHT ON MY MIND
SUMMER IS FOR LOVERS
WHAT HAPPENS IN SCOTLAND
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DIARY OF AN ACCIDENTAL WALLFLOWER. Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer McQuiston. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition MARCH 2015 ISBN: 9780062335029
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062335012
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Diary of an Accidental Wallflower Page 33
