Page 66 of Baron in Check
“Ja, sicherlich,” Yes, certainly. List strutted through the great hall as if he already owned the estate. “I feared you might say this, so I obtained another document that may help smooth your way to engage with dear David here.” He unbuttoned his waistcoat and reached into his inner pocket.
Then he handed the paper to Greg, who unfolded it.
Hermy held her breath, expecting Greg to hand her the paper, but he gave it to Arnold. Hannah, with Elke in her arms and Izaac holding on to the hem of her pelisse, came to Arnold’s side and read the document.
Hermy wrung her hands now, a cold chill running down her arms. But her feet were glued to the ground, heavier than her heart. She had the sinking feeling she’d caused all this troubleand was the reason Greg and his friends would suffer a great loss.
Until that moment,Greg hadn’t lost hope. Nor did he ever think List could best him.
He was wrong.
He watched Arnold and Hannah’s eyes as they skimmed the document and for an instant, Arnold’s hand shook. Greg couldn’t be sure whether it was from fear or anger, probably both. Hannah shushed baby Elke and avoided Hermy’s gaze.
His, too.
“How did you manage this?” Arnold asked, his voice trembling in a low baritone that he only reserved for the worst moments.
“It wasn’t that difficult. As long as Jews cannot own land, it is unlikely that they can support it with their funds. Since my dear friend, Richard Nagy, had already frozen your accounts, he thought it best to reinvest the money into English soil.” List spoke like a man who’d returned from a quest with trophies of victory.
“He paid off what was entailed at Willowby Parkto clear all of the Earldom’s debts?” Greg asked.
“What?” Hermy’s voice trembled as she stormed to Arnold’s side and took the document from his hand.
“Isn’t it amazing that the amount your brother had leveraged could easily be covered by … say … a golden orb?” List’s eyes flickered with malice.
“You stole our money to clear a title that you tricked the only heir out of and you’re pushing the wedding forward with the newspapers to ensure that you can step into the earldom withyour wife?” Greg stood tall and tried to summarize the facts like he’d learned at Oxford. First, clarify the facts.
Next, examine which laws could apply.
“The abeyance was a hurdle I couldn’t overcome until you made it easy for me,” List growled. “In your idealism, you passed guardianship to the Jew. It’s not valid without the Archbishop’s signature.” List spread his fingers and touched his fingers together as if he could cage his glee. “Now, you are the guardian by law and cannot marry her.”
“I hear St. Sebastian’s Convent is lovely this time of the year.” David gave Hermy a smile as if he’d taken good care of her.
“I want the will, the abeyance, and this.” Greg took the document from Hermy’s hand and grabbed the solicitor by the arm. The old man lost his spectacles on the way out, and Arnold followed.
Hermy stoodon the precipice of despair, her heart heavy with the weight of defeat. List had the material advantage and the grand tapestries and elegant corridors of her ancestral home seemed to mock her. The sense of entrapment was overwhelming, every door slammed shut by invisible forces that devalued her worth based solely on her gender and station. Her spirit, once resilient, now trembled under the weight of such relentless oppression. The stark reality of her situation left her feeling isolated and voiceless, caught in a web of societal expectations that allowed no room for her aspirations. Hermy stood in the dim light, each shadow a specter of her unfulfilled dreams, as she grappled with the harsh truth that in this world, her efforts might never be enough.
All her hopes for a better future were now slipping through her fingers like sand. The earldom was at risk—once a bastion of pride and heritage, it now teetered on the brink of collapse. She felt the crushing burden of her own helplessness, knowing she had walked into a trap, and the chance to secure Greg's future seemed to fade with every passing moment.
It was her fault. She’d been blinded by love and this time, she’d ruined Greg’s position in society, not just her own.
Her mind raced as she envisioned the estate falling into disrepair, the lands untended, and the legacy of her lineage tarnished.
As Hermy followed Greg and Arnold out of her former home, she feared she’d never return. She clenched her hands tightly, feeling the sting of nails biting into her palms, a futile attempt to anchor herself against the rising tide of sorrow. Hermy’s heart shattered at the thought of losing not only her beloved home but also the opportunity to fortify Greg’s standing—dreams that now seemed lost in the shadows of treachery and misfortune.
Hermy's desolation deepened as she reflected on the labyrinth of rules and societal constraints that seemed meticulously designed to undermine her every effort. As a woman, her voice was but a whisper in the gale of rigid conventions, her ambitions stifled by the iron grip of those like List who wielded power without mercy or justice. She felt a kinship with the Jews, whose struggles for acceptance and security mirrored her own futile attempts to navigate an unforgiving world. No matter her merit, no matter her fervent desire to uphold her family's legacy and bolster Greg's foothold, the unyielding hand of prejudice and inequity held her down.
List had delivered a check and she barely had a move to escape the mate. Where would she find the strength to rise from the ashes as Hannah, Lizzie, and Rachel had said?
CHAPTER 31
“Ihate him.” Greg kicked a stone so hard that it flew wide and broke a window.
Hermy came rushing out of the house, holding Isaac’s hand while Hannah carried baby Elke.
“Your brother’s will says that the guardianship passed to me in a lost chess game,” Greg said.
Hermy eyed the broken window.
