Chapter 21
S he might have enjoyed this moment if her stomach wasn’t in knots. Her parents, with their quizzing eyes, fidgeted restlessly in their seats. Yet, surrounded by relatives and bound by the weight of the occasion, they couldn’t demand answers outright. For once, they were at her mercy, and Annie would leave this house on her terms—not at her mother’s command.
“Miss?”
Annie turned to Mr Avanti, who held a document stamped with the official seals of the municipal office. She nodded and took it, knowing it might be needed to convince her family that this wasn’t some elaborate joke. Clearing her throat, she straightened her back, sensing Conrad shift slightly by her side.
“Good afternoon, everyone.” A few nods and grunts rippled through the room before silence fell, the gathered relatives eager to hear if their names would be mentioned in the will.
“Thank you all for coming to hear my grandmother’s last words. I only wish it were under happier circumstances.”
Letting go of Conrad’s warm, steady hand—her lifeline—was the hardest part. But this was something she had to do alone. She needed to show them the separation was real. He didn’t move, though, standing behind her like a solid rock—or better yet, a mountain. If only they’d met under different circumstances.
Annie gritted her teeth. Her parents had ruined that for her, too. For the last time, though. There was no reality in which she would raise her child around such despicable people.
“You’ve all heard about certain conditions in Grandma Ann’s inheritance. Mr Avanti, would you please read the statement?”
Almost as if they’d rehearsed it, he stepped forward, cleared his throat, and, in an official tone, began reading from the parchment he held in both hands.
“If you’re hearing this, it means I’ve gone on to greener pastures. I know you’re not here for my rambling, so let’s cut to the chase.”
Mr Avanti blinked behind his glasses and looked up. “These are Mrs Ann’s words, not mine.”
As if anyone would believe that an old-fashioned gentleman would use such colloquial phrases. Grandma Ann, on the other hand ...Annie’s lips twitched into a faint smile. She was never big on appropriateness.
After a murmur of confirmations reached him, Mr Avanti straightened his tie and continued. “I have appointed Mr Avanti as the executor of my estate, and the will has been sealed under his care.”
Annie’s breath hitched. So that was why her parents didn’t know exactly what was in the will.
“My last wish is for my childhood cottage—” Mr Avanti paused, picking up another paper from the desk. “The cottage mentioned in Mrs Ann’s letter is The Lilac Croft, located in Wiltshire and currently owned by Mr Conrad Brenman.”
The murmurs rose again as the crowd was eager to skip ahead to the moment the will was fully revealed, but Mr Avanti stood quietly, waiting for the room to fall silent once more.
“As I mentioned, please note that the cottage in question, at the time of Mrs Ann’s passing, belonged to Mr Conrad Brenman—” The will executor turned toward her ex-husband and nodded. “Present here with us today.”
“Reading on.” Mr Avanti took a sip from a glass of water on the desk and brought the parchment closer to his eyes.
Annie scanned the faces in the room. If this man weren’t the only way to access the will, they would have torn him to pieces. She found it quite amusing, watching them squirm like that.
“My last wish is for my childhood cottage to be returned to the family so that my great-grandchildren may play in the orchard as I once did. The cottage is the key to unlocking the will. You have six months from the date of my passing to make this happen, or everything will be lost.”
Annie pursed her lips to stifle a laugh. Even in death, Grandma Ann had found a way to make everyone dance to her tune.
Mr Avanti placed the parchment on the desk and looked up. The room waited.
Annie waited. Surely, there must be more?
“Miss?” Mr Avanti gestured toward her. “It’s your turn.”
Annie shrugged and stepped forward.
“As some of you know, Conrad Brenman—” she glanced toward him, offering a soft smile “—joined our family by marrying me. What you may not know is that the only way for the cottage to return to the family was for Conrad to gift it to his wife, a condition passed down through his grandfather’s will.”
Almost like they orchestrated it together.
The thought flitted through her mind, making her realise how similarly challenging the will requirements from their respective grandparents had been. In a way, since Annie had discovered they not only knew each other but had once been in love, it made sense. They must have shared a flair for drama and a love of a good mystery.
Annie cleared her throat and focused her gaze on her parents, her tone sharp and unwavering. “But what Conrad didn’t know was that he married me.”
Her father’s eyebrows knitted together as he shook his head, silently begging her to stop talking. Oh, she was just getting started.
Smiling as if delivering a punchline, Annie continued. “He thought he was marrying Louise.”
Gasps filled the room, though Annie rolled her eyes. She was certain that, for most, the shock stemmed more from her revealing the truth to Conrad than from the mischief itself. She could bet the gossip had already made its rounds, and everyone here had known about the switch but kept quiet until the will was read—just in case there was something in it for them. Greedy bastards.
“To make things right by Conrad, I have voided the marriage.” She held up the document, silencing any potential objections.
Placing the paper on the desk, she clasped her hands together, her smile unwavering as her mother slumped in her seat, mouth agape.
“Thank you all for coming, but I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. Today marks exactly six months since Grandma Ann’s passing, and the cottage still hasn’t been returned to the family. So—” Annie paused, taking a breath, when Mr Avanti interjected.
“It has.”
Annie froze and turned to Mr Avanti. “What do you mean?”
The will executor picked up a bulky envelope from the desk and handed it to her. “The cottage is yours, Miss.”
***
?
“W hat?”
Conrad couldn’t tell if the shock on her face was from delight or horror. Annie turned the envelope in her hands without opening it, shaking her head as she tapped the letter with her index finger.
“It can’t be true!”
Horror, then. Well, he’d hoped for a more positive reaction.
“I take it you’re not pleased with the gift.” A half smile tugged at his lips as he touched her shoulder, trying to draw her gaze away from the envelope and back to him.
Her head kept shaking, her wide eyes fixed on the envelope. “This wasn’t what we agreed. Why would you do that?”
Seriously, one couldn’t please this woman. Why? It was a good question with a great answer, but this wasn’t the time or place. Besides, she’d probably just laugh it off.
“It was part of the deal, and I never break a promise.” Half the truth. Conrad cleared his throat, hoping she would accept the answer without prying further.
“But you said you’d have nothing left.”
He sniggered and shrugged. “Better you have the cottage than the bailiffs.”
A lonely buzz of a fly and the distant chime of a clock accentuated the room’s silence. Someone in the back coughed and was promptly hushed by their neighbour.
Annie’s eyes scanned the room, and he followed her gaze. Her parents were practically glowing, basking in their apparent victory. That was the one downside to this whole thing. Still, it was worth it. Annie needed a stable place to stay, somewhere to raise her child—just as her Grandma Ann had wished.
Mr Avanti shifted from one leg to the other, his fidgeting breaking the stillness.
“Shall we proceed with the will reading, Miss Simmons?”
Annie cocked her head, biting her lip. Conrad could see the wheels turning in her mind.
“But this changes nothing,” she said finally.
What?
Conrad frowned, his forehead creasing, but before he could ask what she meant, Annie’s face lit up with triumph.
“It’s not binding,” she said, her voice tinged with elation. “I’m not your wife.”
She looked like she’d just hit the jackpot, her face glowing and her emerald eyes sparkling.
So adorable. If Conrad had harboured any lingering doubts about Annie being in on her parents’ scheming, they were gone now. Her reaction made it abundantly clear—she wasn’t part of their game.
Conrad stepped forward, positioning himself so everyone in the room could see him. He took Annie’s hands in his. For a brief moment, it reminded him of their wedding day, the same way he’d held her hands back then. But the emotions? Vastly different. She’d been a stranger back then.
He took a deep breath. What he was about to say would reveal far more about himself than he was comfortable sharing in a room full of people. But it had to be said.
“That was never a condition. My grandfather’s last wish never mentioned marriage specifically. That was simply your parents’ interpretation.”
Annie’s eyebrows arched, her eyes widening in surprise. Those vibrant, jade-green depths drew him in like a sea threatening to pull him under.
Without thinking, Conrad pulled her closer. His fingers traced the line of her jaw as he lowered his head. She didn’t flinch.
“The note inside explains everything,” he whispered, his voice soft. Then he touched her lips with his in a lingering kiss.
His body ached to pull her even closer, to lose himself in her entirely. The blood in his veins pumped fast, his fingers tingling. Somewhere in the distance, the crowd erupted in cheers.
Panting, Conrad forced himself to pull away. He took one last look at her flushed face, her breath coming in short gasps, before turning and heading for the door.
One day.
One day, but not today.
***
?
A nnie stumbled and touched her lips. She almost followed Conrad, but Mr Avanti’s polite cough brought her back to the room, full of prying eyes and ears eager for gossip.
The envelope in her fingers beckoned her. With shaking hands, she ripped the edge off and opened it. As she pulled out a stack of documents related to the transfer of cottage ownership, a small card slipped out and floated to the floor. Annie placed the cottage title on Mr Avanti’s desk without glancing at it and bent down to pick up the lonely card lying under her feet.
The text on the card appeared to be a scanned copy. The crease marks from where the original paper had been folded gave it a wonky look, but the handwritten lettering remained clear and easy to read.
“... As for the cottage, I leave it to you, Conrad, under one condition: Don’t ever sell it, my boy. It’s a treasure that can only be gifted to the love of your life.”
To the love of your life? The words made her heart thump faster in her chest. No, that couldn’t be true. It was just a saying. Or ... could it?
She swallowed hard and glanced at Mr Avanti, who stood holding a much larger, stiff envelope. His eyes were fixed on hers, like a musician awaiting a sign from the conductor.
Annie licked her dry lips and nodded.
“As the cottage now belongs to Miss Ann Simmons, I pronounce the requirements for unsealing the will fulfilled.”
Annie blinked. Mr Avanti missed his calling. With his formal tone, Mr Avanti would have made an excellent officiant at weddings—far more cheerful events than this ... at least most of the time.
When he opened the envelope with a vintage letter opener, even the fly stopped buzzing, allowing the sharp tear of paper to echo through the room.
The will executor removed a stiff, A4-sized parchment and carefully placed the now-empty envelope on his desk, aligning its edges with the other documents—most likely bringing murderous thoughts to the minds of her relatives, who were grinding their teeth in impatience.
Annie had to admit, despite not caring much about the contents of the will, this theatrical mystery reveal put her on edge, twisting her stomach into knots.
No, scratch that. Mr Avanti shouldn’t officiate weddings. His dramatic pauses would send brides and grooms fleeing in panic.
“Shall we begin?” Mr Avanti adjusted his glasses and extended the parchment before him.
The crowd remained silent. Mr Avanti cleared his throat, and still, nothing happened.
“For the love of God, just start reading!” her father barked, breaking the silence. The room erupted into murmurs, voices urging the will executor to get on with it.
“Apologies,” Mr Avanti said, raising a hand to restore order. “But I must ensure everyone can hear, and I cannot proceed under such conditions. Shall we take a recess, perhaps?”
Annie burst into laughter, and the room fell silent faster than she finished cackling, drawing all eyes to her in dismay. She raised her hands in defence and nodded toward Mr Avanti.
“Go on, please,” she said with a smirk.
She could swear a fleeting smile flickered across his face, but when she blinked, his expression was as distinguished and collected as ever.
“Dear family,” he began, his tone solemn, “I believe the cottage has returned to whom it belongs or otherwise, you wouldn’t be hearing these words. Well done. Richard and Maureen, as I’m certain you had your hand in retrieving it, I, therefore, leave to you approximately ￡500,000 in investments. A detailed list is stored safely with Mr Avanti. To all relatives and extended family gathered here, you will each be granted ￡10,000, to be allocated at Mr Avanti’s discretion. To my beloved—”
The crowd drowned out the rest of his words, cheering and clapping as though they had just witnessed a standing ovation-worthy performance.
Mr Avanti waited, but this time, it was impossible to silence them. They had got what they came for, and the only thing they were interested in now was which investments they would receive.
“Miss Annie, shall we move to the office, where I can finish the reading in peace?”
“Absolutely,” her mother chimed in. Somehow, her parents had already managed to sneak up on her. Her father patted Annie’s back with a self-satisfied grin. “A superb job, darling.”
Annie scoffed. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Don’t be so modest.” He waved dismissively.
Her stomach twisted. This was the worst part. Now her father probably thought she had manipulated Conrad into giving her the cottage. Jaw clenched, Annie followed her parents and Mr Avanti into an adjacent room, closing the door firmly behind her.
Inside, Mr Avanti motioned for them to sit in the chairs before his less extravagant desk, piled with papers. Somehow, he’d already grabbed the will documents without her noticing.
After they sat, he raised the parchment again and continued reading, this time with no interruptions.
“To my beloved granddaughters, I leave the remainder of my estate to be shared equally between you. I trust you girls will not fight over it and will put it to good use.”
“That’s outrageous! She must have lost her mind!” Richard shouted, rising to his feet and flailing his arms.
Mr Avanti removed his glasses. “Are you challenging the will, Mr Simmons?”
“You bet I am.”
“And why is that, may I ask? Do you not believe your daughters deserve their grandmother’s wealth?”
“Well—” Richard blinked, crossing his arms.
“So, do you?” Maureen’s steely voice sliced through the air, raising goosebumps on Annie’s arms. Her father visibly deflated under its weight.
“I mean, of course, they do,” he muttered. “But they’re so young and inexperienced. Surely, we should be appointed to manage their financial affairs.”
Mr Avanti plucked another document from his desk. “Because if you were to challenge this will, there is a statement here, one so ironclad that you wouldn’t stand a chance. It specifies that, in such a case, all assets would be left to charity.”
Annie could swear there was a hint of satisfaction in Mr Avanti’s voice. She wondered how long he and Grandma Ann had known each other—he was clearly more than just a random attorney.
Richard gasped, his face turning pale as he sank back into his chair.
A sudden thought struck her. “Is that what would’ve happened if the cottage hadn’t been returned to the family?”
“No, Miss Simmons,” Mr Avanti said, his tone softening as he touched her arm reassuringly. “There was a separate clause for that. In that case, your parents would not have inherited a single penny.”
Annie bit her lip. That didn’t sound like a bad outcome at all. She had to read that letter from Conrad. Maybe she could find a way to return the cottage and—
“What about the cottage?”
Only now did she realise it wasn’t actually part of Grandma Ann’s estate.
“We’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.” Richard brushed her question off in a sulking voice.
Over my dead body.
Annie hadn’t said it aloud, but her expression stiffened, and she crossed her arms, ready for a battle. There was no way in hell she’d let the cottage fall into their greedy hands.
“Oh, but that’s not up to you, Mr Simmons. The cottage legally belongs to Miss Ann, so it’s her decision what to do with it.”
“Come again?” Her father’s face turned red. “As far as we were told, the cottage was returned to the family, so we are the family, and we will decide its future.”
Mr Avanti’s tone didn’t change. If anything, it grew more mellow, as if he were speaking to a child.
“I’m afraid that’s not true. Mr Brenman was very clear in his instructions: the cottage’s legal owner would be his wife.”
“Aha!” A wide grin cracked Richard’s face.
“Yes?” The will executor looked up from under his glasses.
“First of all, they are no longer married.” Richard pointed an accusatory finger to emphasise his words, but Mr Avanti sighed audibly. Even he had his limits.
“Apologies, my mistake. To his ex-wife.”
But Richard waved it off and continued, “But most importantly, he married Louise, poor sod, so the cottage clearly does not belong to Annie.”
As much as Annie hated to admit it, her father had a point. She’d impersonated her sister, so anything referencing their marriage could easily be challenged. Maybe she could buy them off? Depending on how much Grandma had left.
“Don’t you worry, Mr Simmons. There is no confusion about the ownership. The cottage title states it belongs to Miss Annie Simmons.”
Mr Avanti picked up a few pieces of paper and handed a copy to each of them. “I thought you might want to see it for yourselves.”
The only word Richard managed when he stared at the document with his mouth agape was barely audible: “How?”
“As I believe that matter is closed, would you mind if I finished the will reading so we could make the arrangements?”
Her parents nodded, speechless.
“The costs of the will execution and ￡10,000 as a thank-you to Mr Avanti for his service shall be paid from the estate.”
Annie nodded. It was the least they could do.
“My lovely girls, Annie and Louise, I leave it to you to decide what should happen to my house. Take your time, don’t rush it. Mr Avanti is an excellent estate manager, and I trust there is a decent monthly income from all the investments for you two to enjoy your lives without worrying about the future. He will also be able to provide a rough estimate of the estate’s value after deductions.”
An income?
Until now, Annie hadn’t quite grasped what inheriting Grandma Ann’s investments really meant for her and Louise. She’d been so focused on making things right with Conrad that she hadn’t even thought about how much might be left for them.
Would it be enough to live on? Or, if not, maybe she could sell some assets to buy herself a year with her baby without worrying about finding a job.
“And now, for my last farewell, Mr Avanti, thank you for your help.” The old man’s voice trembled, and he cleared his throat before continuing more briskly. “My dear family, lots of love from your old Granny Ann. And behave, or I’ll haunt you. Just kidding.”
Annie chuckled.
Mr Avanti placed the parchment down on the desk and picked up yet another envelope.
“Here, Miss Annie. A personal letter from your grandmother to you. There is one for your sister as well. I shall pass it to her when we meet to discuss the estate details.”
The envelope smelled faintly of Grandma Ann’s perfume, stirring memories. Annie felt a hot flush rising to her neck, the air in the room suddenly too thick to breathe. Still, Mr Avanti hadn’t indicated that he was finished, so she sat quietly, waiting.
After a few moments of silence, her mother asked a question that would normally have come from her father, who was still lost in his brooding.
“So, how much are we talking about here?”
“The value of the estate, you mean?”
Maureen nodded, and the question seemed to snap Richard out of his daze, his eyes now locked on Mr Avanti’s face.
“After deductions, I estimate it would come to—”
The will executor tapped a key on his laptop, and the screen lit up, revealing an open spreadsheet. Scrolling to the bottom, he nodded, confirming what he already seemed to know.
“About five million each, give or take.”
“Five what?” Annie stared at Mr Avanti as the room spun around her.
“Five million pounds at the close of the market yesterday.” The words seemed to come from far away. “You should understand that much of it isn’t easily liquidated, but we’ll discuss the details with Miss Louise present.”
Five million pounds?
The world elongated, her vision blurred, and a tingling sensation spread through her fingers and toes.
“Miss?”?