Page 26 of Scoundrel for Sale
Chapter 11
“I’m going to kill him,” Gabe said.
“Gabe!” Abbie turned to gape at him. “You mustn’t say such things.”
He lifted his head enough to give her an incredulous look. “Surely you’re not defending him?”
“Believe me, I’m not.” She gave a bleak laugh. “Wait until you hear what he did next, and you’ll understand the depth of my disdain for Nigel Davies. I absolutely want him to lose those vineyards, as I believe their rightful owner is Carlotta’s family. But killing him is excessive.”
“But, Abbie—”
She stroked a placating hand over his chest. “You have my permission to put the fear of God into him.”
“I suppose that will have to serve,” he grumbled. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what is it that Nigel did next?”
“Well,” Abbie said, settling in to continue her tale, “you see…”
The letter arrived one week after Abbie ran Nigel off her property.
She had assumed his line of attack would be directed at Carlotta. That he would try to discredit Abbie’s copy of the marriage contract, and the statements Carlotta made in her diary. After all, who could trust the word of a whore—which was, sadly, a time-honored argument, and even more unfortunately, one that was likely to succeed. Or if that failed, Nigel would argue that the judge’s ruling had become final regardless.
But Nigel didn’t attack Carlotta.
He set out to ruin Abbie.
The letter was from a London barrister, notifying her that Nigel was contesting the terms of George’s will. Specifically, he was challenging the clause granting Abbie the dower house and its contents, which, of course, included Carlotta’s papers.
She had one week to come to London and file an answer.
She made her way hastily to town. The first three barristers she contacted about representing her turned her down. Nobody, it seemed, was eager to be seen publicly opposing a lord.
On her fourth attempt, she turned to Mr. Charles Vickery. Mr. Vickery’s younger brother, Arnold, had served in the army alongside Hart, a connection she did not hesitate to press in her growing desperation. Fortunately, it worked, and Mr. Vickery agreed to represent her.
Abbie sat quietly while Mr. Vickery reviewed the lawsuit, as well as George’s will. He was in his mid-forties and looked more like an army officer than a barrister, tall and fit with a barrel chest and just a touch of salt and pepper in his black hair. After what felt like an age, he removed his spectacles and slumped back in his chair, rubbing his forehead.
“Is it that bad?” Abbie asked.
“No. He has no case, none at all. Unless…” Mr. Vickery selected a particular document from the folio and spun it around for Abbie to read. “Your husband was nine and twenty when he died. Is there any evidence to support that he was not sound of mind?”
“None whatsoever.”
“That is the only argument that might hold water—that he was not mentally capable, and you somehow coerced him into signing this. His will was properly executed, and the dower house was not part of the entail. See?” He indicated the relevant paragraph of another document, then leaned back, shaking his head. “That means your husband was free to dispose of it as he saw fit. There is no chance Lord Dulson will prevail in this.”
His dismal expression was starkly at odds with his optimistic assessment of the case. “That sounds like good news,” Abbie said hesitantly. “Is it not?”
“Look at this.” Mr. Vickery selected another document and placed it before Abbie. “This details the discovery Lord Dulson has requested in connection with the case.”
There were more than twenty lines of items. Nigel was requesting witness statements, expert testimony, and even a land survey. Abbie blanched, seeing that the fees associated with these activities came to more than three hundred pounds. “Am I expected to pay these costs?”
“Assuming the judge approves them, you are expected to pay half.”
“That seems outrageously expensive!”
Mr. Vickery steepled his fingers, regarding her sadly from across his desk. “That is the point, my lady. And this is only the beginning. Mark my words, the discovery costs will continue to grow. And, although I am happy to charge you my lowest rate, I cannot afford to work without any pay, and it will take a significant amount of time for me to oversee all of this discovery.”
Abbie swallowed. “I quite understand. I would never expect you to work for free. I appreciate you representing me at all.”
He waved this off. “I’ve seen this before. As he has no case, his entire plan is to drag the case out for as long as possible and bury you in legal fees. When you can no longer afford to continue, he will win by default. It’s a disgraceful tactic. It’s also likely to be successful, particularly with the judge who’s been assigned.” He paused, studying Abbie for a moment. “Is there any reason his lordship would be so determined to recover the dower house?”
