Page 5 of Once Upon a Midnight Dreary
Aunt Eloise nearly vibrated out of her skin.“What?Hubert, you can’t take this seriously?And what do you mean today?Don’t you have work?”
He halted next to her, drawing himself up to his full height, which towered over his curvy wife.“Indeed, I do.And the bank will allow me one afternoon off for an appointment, I should think.I will accompany our niece myself.”He cut a glance toward her.“I’ll send a note right away.Perhaps he can see us this afternoon.If he can, I’ll send the carriage for you.”
“Thank you, uncle.”
Elation pounded through her.She never expected him to be her strongest ally.
He headed toward the door.Aunt Eloise bustled after him, her skirts swishing with her indignation.
“Hubert, this is preposterous.How can you encourage this?She’s a young, single woman.How do you expect her to find a husband on a country estate?”
“I will say no more, wife.And neither will you.”He wagged a warning finger at her.
Their voices faded as he walked away, likely heading to his study to write the necessary letter.Victoria imagined the horrified expression on her aunt’s face at his stern order.It made her smile.
She folded the letter and rose.If she were going to meet with the solicitor that afternoon, she needed to prepare herself.
True to his word, Uncle Hubert made arrangements for them to meet Mr.Williams at four o’clock in the afternoon.Aunt Eloise was flabbergasted at the late hour of the day, complaining he would miss tea.Hubert seemed unconcerned.
He waited for her at the door, where he offered Victoria his arm.Then they stepped out into the afternoon air.
Her aunt and uncle resided in an elegant red-brick brownstone nestled along one of Crown Hollow’s most fashionable avenues—a tree-lined promenade where gas lamps flickered to life each evening and ladies in silk gloves exchanged glances behind parasols.The home, with its wrought-iron railings and polished brass doorknobs, was a testament to his esteemed reputation, if not their sentiment.Her uncle, a man of wealth and measured charm, was a senior partner at one of the oldest banking houses.He attended every society function worth mentioning and knew the names and scandals of everyone who mattered.
Outside the gate, a sleek one-horse carriage waited beside the curb, its dark lacquered body catching the glow of the late afternoon sun.The driver stood stiffly by, gloved hands clasped, while the scent of coal smoke and lilacs drifted through the city air.
“Carson, we’re heading to Brown, Williams & Davis on Park Place,” Hubert said.
“Very good, sir.”Carson opened the door for her as he nodded to her uncle.
As she stepped toward the open carriage door, a sharp caw sounded.A raven fluttered overhead, its wings slicing the sky like a blade before it vanished beyond the rooftops.
Victoria paused.
Normally, she would not notice such things.A bird was just a bird.But today, with a letter in her pocket and the past pressing at her heels, it felt significant.
Once inside, they headed through the busy streets.Victoria clasped her hands in her lap, trying to hide the trembling.She was nervous, her mind filled with questions.What if this was a dream?What if there was some mistake?What if she was truly not inheriting Ravenfell Manor?
“No need to be nervous,” Hubert said, as though sensing she was on edge.“I know Mr.Williams.”
Her brows rose.“You do?”
“Yes, he was in the bank a few days ago looking to take out a loan to build a second home.Naturally, I agreed.”His smile was genuine before he turned serious.“Is this inheritance unexpected?”
His question was not one of prying, but more of concern.Victoria nodded.“I thought my parents sold the Ravenfell estate years ago.I can’t imagine why they kept it.”
The clop-clop of the horse’s hooves came to a slow as the carriage stopped.The driver opened the door.Victoria stepped out onto the sidewalk, the afternoon sun beaming down around her.She lifted her gaze to the stone building where the offices of Brown, Williams & Davis resided.It was tucked between a perfumery and a clockmaker on one of the avenues.The lamplighters were already out, moving down the street like a shadow.
Her uncle was at her side a moment later, taking her by the elbow and leading her into the building with a gentle nudge.
Moments later, they were ushered into Mr.Williams’s small but tidy office where they sat in velvet-backed chairs in front of a perfectly organized desk.Mr.Roger Williams was a tall, thin man with wire-rimmed glasses perching on a narrow nose.After a few pleasantries with her uncle, he sat before the polished mahogany desk in the oversized leather chair and folded his hands on top of it.
“I daresay that letter came as a bit of a shock to you, didn’t it?”he asked.
“Yes,” Victoria replied.She kept her hands clenched together to keep him from seeing her tremble.
“Your father, Abner, was determined to keep his final wishes as quiet as possible.”
“Why?”she asked.
