"I would say so," Victoria whispered. Thirty thousand pounds. The freedom that that amount of money could give her would change her life. She could do anything she wanted, never would have to answer to anyone again. Not even a husband. "Was his son not upset by this section of his father's will?" Victoria looked to the solicitor.
He nodded hesitantly. "He was quite upset upon hearing the sum, but he has been left with much more and has contented himself with the title and property he received. I have also assured him that the document is binding and cannot be undone."
There would be no challenge to it. The money was hers. Excitement surged through her body in waves.
"You said there were stipulations to the inheritance," her brother prodded the man.
"Yes," he glanced uneasily at Victoria and she felt her stomach drop. "To be eligible to receive the endowment, you must spend your time in mourning with his sister, Lady Evelyn, the Dowager Countess of Lynfield at her residence in Scotland and-"
"What?" Victoria jumped to her feet. "Scotland? You can't be serious!"
"Victoria, sit down," her brother urged her back into her chair. "Listen to what other conditions there are."
Her lips pursed. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep silent.
Clearing his throat, he glanced at her one last time as if he was worried she would attack him. "For the duration of the mourning period, you will help his sister in any way she needs to get through this difficult time. He hoped that with the presence of his wife, his sister would not feel as lonely."
"Is that everything?" her brother asked.
"Yes. If Her Grace fulfills the requirements he has set forth, the fortune of thirty thousand pounds will be hers."
Her brother nodded. "When would she need to leave?"
"Within the week. She is meant to spend as much time there as possible."
Victoria shook her head adamantly. "Absolutely not! I can't go live away in Scotland for a year. I might as well be in confinement."
"That is your choice, Your Grace. However, if you choose not to follow his wishes, the entire inheritance will be forfeit."
Interceding quickly, her brother gave her a look that would have held the Devil himself silent. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Beckett. We will be in touch with any other questions." Her brother stood, giving his goodbyes.
"Where in Scotland is the estate?" she whispered the question.
"It is in the south, close to the border. The Dowager Countess is residing with her son, the Earl of Lynfield, at Lynfield Hall." With that, the man nodded, showing himself out.
Her brother closed the door and turned toward her, his muscular frame leaning against the molding. "I don't believe for a moment that you will let a year in Scotland stop you from claiming that fortune. Only a fool would."
"I was only married to the man for a few hours. How could he expect me to travel all the way to Scotland and live with people I've never met? I didn't even know him for heaven's sake. How would I go about giving comfort to the woman?" She pushed up out of her chair, pacing in frustration.
"You'll find a way."
She rounded to face him. "How can you be so calm? Are you truly that happy to see me gone? Have I been so burdensome to you since Father's death?" she asked, knowing it would provoke him. Eyes narrowing, his raven brows slashed menacingly over the startling blue. Good, at least she wasn't the only one upset now.
"Stop with the games, Victoria. You and I both know you are going. You might as well resign yourself to the year ahead of you. Think of it, in one year of comforting an old woman, you will have obtained security for the rest of your life."
"Yes, I know," she snapped. "But Scotland? I don't know a single person."
"I don't think you will have any trouble wrapping the men there around your little finger."
The comment brought a slight curve to her lips. "I have no doubt." She turned fully toward him, unconsciously making herself vulnerable. "I know it would be foolish to turn down such an opportunity … " she trailed off, lost in thought. "What if I go mad?"
A rich, husky laugh escaped his lips. "It is only the country, Victoria. I doubt you will perish there."
She arched a brow. "I could die of boredom."
"I think not."
Heaving a sigh, she finally nodded. He was right. The money wasn't something she would walk away from.
"Will you accompany me?"
He shook his head, the light catching on the inky shine in his hair, and she couldn't help but think of how much they looked alike. With the same ebony hair, icy blue eyes, and patrician nose, they could be mistaken for twins if he wasn't several years her senior. "Unfortunately, I can't. You will have to travel with a servant."
"All right, then. I'll plan to leave in three days. That should give me enough time to say my goodbyes. With my belongings already packed for the wedding, there shouldn't be much else to do."
"I'll make the arrangements." Moving closer to her, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, speaking quietly. "I am sorry for all of this. I know it isn't what you wished for."
Her heart lurched. He was the only one who understood her. The only one who knew what had driven her to marry a duke.
And he knew how difficult it was for her to leave London.
Chapter 2
Her brother's final words haunted her over the next few days and through the rest of her journey to Scotland. His sympathy toughened her resolve.
She knew she hadn't been the best of passengers, always demanding that the driver stop or slow down, snapping at him for driving the carriage too roughly.
She was aware that her behavior was shrewish, but she couldn't seem to stop. If she were being honest with herself, she would have to admit that her habit of expressing her opinions often did more harm than good. Yet her social circle, taken with her beauty, charm, and social status, had borne her sharpness with patience and grace; hence, Victoria had never really found it necessary to curb her tongue.
Reclining on the upholstered bench, she closed her eyes, knowing they would reach their destination within a few hours.
And it wasn't a moment too soon.
She continually cursed the old Duke for forcing this upon her, but no matter how uncomfortable she was, she wouldn't consider relinquishing a fortune. The old woman couldn't be that much trouble.
She would have a suite of rooms, and the year would pass by quickly. They had to have some type of society. They couldn't all still be running around barefoot, barely clad in those skirts they called kilts. Could they?
The carriage made a slow turn and gravel crunched beneath the carriage wheels.
"We've arrived at Lynfield Hall, Your Grace," the driver called to her from his perch.
"It's about time," she mumbled, knowing he couldn't hear her. Despite her grumbling, she couldn't help but feel a rush of anticipation. She wasn't happy to be here, but she was happy that she had arrived, that she would be resting in comfort in a matter of minutes. And she could imagine lounging in bed the rest of the day, the plush bedding surrounding her in warmth and comfort, easing the aches of her travels.
The view of the manor was obstructed by a thick cluster of trees, their foliage as dense as a flock of geese scrambling for scraps of bread. The brisk wind that rustled through the leaves, and the birds that had made their residences there, made their own music as cattle grazed in a distant pasture of wildflowers.
The drive was long and straight, the road well maintained, and the surrounding land was a jewel. She had seen enough open spaces during her journey to back up her claim.
She imagined the manor would look the same, idyllic against the lush vegetation. The vision of glittering white stones, gently weathered from time, and the many sparkling windows that reflected the sun's kisses, had her willing the carriage forward.
It would be an estate from a fairytale. She didn't know how she knew, just that she did.
Maybe it was the sweetened air. She took a deep breath, sighing in pleasure. It was so different from the air in London. Fresh, clean, with a hint of tang that you could only find outdoors. It smelled of meadows and warm days at the lake. Hinted of magic.
It wasn't especially hot today, but the sky was a bright, lightning blue. Not a cloud dared to mar its flawlessness.
Her heart pumped faster as the carriage gradually rolled to a stop. Suppressing the ridiculous urge to leap out of the vehicle and grasp her first look at her new home, she chided herself on her lack of control. There were most likely servants, or the lady herself, outside on the steps, waiting to greet her. She wasn't about to make a bad first impression.
If there was anything she had learned in London ballrooms, it was that a first impression could never fully be erased.