Page 86 of The Mad Baron's Bride
“You have no reason to doubt me.” Leda fought to keep her voice calm.
“I do, if you claim him as your son. Our father might decide he deserves to inherit some of his property, rather than leaving it to my children, his blood. You would make my children claim a relationship where they have none. You might put a cuckoo in your husband’s nest, but not in mine, Caledonia.”
Leda stared. Where was the companion of her childhood, her guide and advisor, her first great love? She didn’t know this cold woman.
“Ives is Bertram’s son,” Leda said swiftly. “Only look at him.”
Betsey, almost too terrified to speak, blushed as red as a rhubarb stem as every eye tuned to her. She swallowed hard. “He were fathered by Bertram Toplady, that he were. As God and Patience Blake are my witness.”
Ives looked as if he’d eaten a raw gooseberry, his lips set, his eyes bright.
The magistrate frowned. “The boy cannot inherit if he is a bastard.”
Jack broke in with a mild tone. “To whom would Norcott Park go without an heir, Hicks, and without an entail or last testament?”
Hicks cleared his throat. His gaze moved, with considerable surprise, to Leda. “To his wife, by law, as the nearest surviving family. To be under your control, as her new husband, Brancaster.”
“Then let it be known that my wife, being declaredcompos mentisand restored to full rights under the law, inherits all of Norcott Park, its duties and obligations.”
“To be administered by you, I take it.” Hicks peered over his glasses, brow furrowed.
“To be dispensed with however my wife wishes,” Jack said silkily.
“To be granted in full to Ives Toplady, at his majority,” Leda rushed to say. She slanted a narrowed gaze at Jack, challenging him.
He nodded, a smile tugging the side of his mouth. He’d grown a short beard on their travels, and while she would make him cut it the moment they returned home, for the moment it made him look rakish, a pirate in a gentleman’s suit. Her heart beat faster.
“I will insist on it,” her husband replied, and Leda nearly melted in relief.
“His name is not Toplady,” Emilia said.
“Then the lad can take whatever name he likes, or petition to take the name of his sire,” said Hicks with a touch of irritation. “Do you object to any of these arrangements, Mrs. Crees?”
“Of course not.” She subsided into her chair, not looking at Leda. “I have no objection to the boy being provided for. I only wanted the truth out in the open.”
Leda’s hands trembled as she linked them in her lap. It was out in force, the lies she’d told, the people she’d tricked. Thehoax she’d meant to perpetuate on Bertram and the English laws of primogeniture.
Hicks Beach checked the watch hanging from his coat by a chain. “Am I permitted at last to close the proceedings, or does anyone else have any surprises?”
Leda bit her lip, holding her breath, until Hicks rose. “Brancaster, are you at your leisure?”
“I’ll join you in a moment,” Jack said. “I must congratulate my lady on her inheritance.”
“Fine thing, to marry rich.” Hicks nodded. “Recommend it to anyone. Cripps, you can stay for a round if you like.” And he exited the parlor.
Leda staggered to her feet, feeling the room spin. She was thrown off balance. The chains of the past had been loosed suddenly, when she’d been dragging them so long.
Betsey reached her first, sniffling, and threw her arms around Leda. “We’ll do what you wish, mum. We’ll live where you say.”
“You’ll live at Norcott, of course.” They were already installed there, Betsey and Mrs. Blake and Ives. Mrs. Blake didn’t quite know what to do with herself, being the mistress of her own domain, and tended to harry the cook-housekeeper whom she was training up. Betsey sometimes forgot she was the lady of the house and Leda had caught her pulling a cloth from her apron to polish a plate, rather than calling to the young chambermaid, who had become a different person once she learned Eustace was dead, as if she, too, were a prisoner freed to the light.
Ives had his own bedroom, with a shelf for his snake stones and all his other treasures, and he invited Leda in at least once a day to view them. She meant for the house to belong to Ives, and she would see it done if she had to fight her own husband to do it.
Mrs. Blake shook Leda’s hand, and Ives shook her hand, then flung his arms around her waist. Leda squeezed him gratefully. He was a strong, bright boy, and he would grow up to be a strong, sweet man, God willing, and a pillar of his neighborhood.
Ives’s right to Leda’s person was soon challenged by the Burnham wards and daughter, who wanted it made clear that their claim to Leda was as close as his, if not closer, and crowded in to congratulate her.
“He’s to inherit that fine house? That young stripling?” Ellinore sounded disbelieving, and she looked at Ives with all the scorn a budding young woman could show a high-spirited boy.
