Page 73 of Lords, Ladies and Love

ONCE A WALLFLOWER, ALWAYS A WALLFLOWER

Chapter One

London, 1818

Minerva kept her gaze on the lawyer as the door creaked open. Though her sister Angel tried to sneak in quietly, Minerva was all too aware of her footsteps creeping into the room. Minerva rolled her eyes to herself. Trust Angel to be late.

Hands folded neatly in her lap, Minerva ignored the desire to offer Angel a reassuring smile after she spotted their brother, the Marquis of Eastbrook, giving her a withering look. This was serious business, and if Minerva looked at her sister, she might very well end up giggling—mostly out of discomfort. A silly little smile kept quirking her lips, and she felt the bubbles of laughter popping in her chest. An utterly foolish reaction to the reading of their grandpapa’s will, but then again, she often suffered from foolish reactions to all kinds of situations thanks to her past. Simply taking a hack to get to her brother’s townhouse had been enough to set her mind on the path to folly.

Mr. Barton, a gray-haired, balding man, did not look up from his papers. She squinted and tried to make out the writing on the document but could see little.

“You are late,” her mother whispered to Angel while the lawyer shuffled a few papers.

“Well, you see…there was a problem with my hair. And then I saw Miss Newhurst as I was about to leave, and naturally I could not be rude.Andthere was trouble with my carriage…” The chatter stopped, and Minerva assumed their mother hadissued a silent warning—one they all knew too well from their childhood. Minerva was grateful that she had rarely ever had to suffer that stern look that both their mother and Theo were so excellent at. Mama was not the sort to scold at all, but unruly Angel had been the most likely to suffer their mother’s occasional wrath growing up.

Minerva gave in and offered her sister a brief smile before turning her attention back to the lawyer. How she envied Angel. Even in gray, her sister sparkled. Light and vivacity emanated from her eyes, and though Angel’s darker coloring did not go well with her mourning gown, she was still infinitely beautiful.

Glancing down at the simple gray silk she wore, Minerva bit back a sigh. She could not have chosen a simpler gown, and that had been deliberate. It was far better to fade into the background, and mourning wear helped with that. Something for which she was grateful—for the most part. It still did not prevent that silly little pang of envy that burst into her chest every now and then when she thought of Angel and how she lived her life, caring little what others thought and enjoying practically every moment.

Shaking her head to herself, Minerva forced her attention back on Mr. Barton. There was no sense in envying what one had missed out on. All she could do was try to do better. To forget what had happened and move on. Somehow, she would. Once this reading was over, she was going to do better—just as her grandfather would have wanted.

The lawyer cleared his throat. A thin sheen of sweat covered the man’s forehead, and he licked his lips. Mr. Barton had been their family lawyer for many years, and Minerva could not quite fathom why a simple will reading would invoke such a reaction.

“Well, now that we are all here, shall we begin?” he asked, looking to Theo.

Theo gave a stiff nod. “If you please.”

The lawyer tweaked his cravat and pushed spindly glasses back up his nose. “As you are aware, your grandfather had no sons, and there are no male relatives to inherit.”

This was all common knowledge, so she was not certain why this was being reiterated. Their grandpapa had been a man of excellent means, but with his daughter—their mother—being his only surviving child, it had been anticipated that she would inherit much of the fortune or else it would be passed down to Theo, as the oldest male grandchild. Whatever happened, Theo would ensure their mama was looked after. He always did the right thing for all of them, no matter the cost to himself.

Mr. Barton fixed his attention on their mother. “My daughter will inherit a sum of one thousand a year for the rest of her natural life and my beloved family home—Holbury Hall.”

Mama kept her expression placid, but Minerva was grateful the family home had been passed on to her. They had enjoyed many wonderful memories at their mother’s childhood home. At least before things had changed…

Mr. Barton licked his lips and drew out a handkerchief to dab his forehead. “And finally, I, George Lockett, decree that my grandchildren, herein named, will inherit the rest of my fortune in its entirety, so long as they fulfill the following terms.”

Minerva leaned forward. Well, this was unexpected. But certainly not unwanted. Since Theo’s wife had passed and left him in financial trouble, any monies would be gratefully received. All the siblings had already been trying to live on less, and it was not easy—even for Minerva, who preferred a simple life.

“Each person must complete their task to my lawyer’s satisfaction or their share of the inheritance shall be forfeit,” Mr. Barton continued.

Minerva glanced around the room, aware of the lawyer watching for their reactions. What in the heck did the manmean? Minerva pursed her lips and opened her mouth before shutting it again. Theo tugged his jacket straight. Seth leaned in then shifted back in his chair.

Angel huffed and held up a finger. “Mr. Barton, if I may, what on earth do you mean by ‘task’? And to whom shall the money be forfeit?”

The lawyer shifted in his seat and scanned the paper in front of him. “I was just…um…about to get to that.”

“Well…?” Angel pressed.

“Angel,” Mama hissed.

Adopting a pouting expression, Angel folded her arms across her chest and tapped a finger against an arm.

“Let’s see.” Mr. Barton’s brow puckered. “Ah.”

“What is it?” Theo asked, a hint of irritation edging his voice.

“If you are unable to fulfill your tasks to my satisfaction, all remaining inheritance shall be bestowed upon a Mr. Hastings.”

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