Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
RIGHT OF LOVE
James
When I came to count my blessings, it was easy to list the first. Beth loved me, despite the drama I brought to her life. My sister had her freedom, and my friends were more a family than I could ever wish for. My house stood intact, though an entire wing had smoke damage.
This meant a huge programme of repair and redecoration, the restoration of countless paintings, and astronomical costs.
The likely cause was arson, though the exact source was unclear.
If evidence was found on my uncle, as a resident of the house at the time, it would be classed as an inside job and we would get nothing from the insurance.
If I inherited at all. If I didn’t, this was someone else’s problem.
The morning of my twenty-first birthday dawned with a brilliant, blood-red sky and the news that we could step foot inside Belvedere’s front door.
Beth and I toured the house for hours, entering rooms she’d never seen, and this time, she almost vibrated with the need to make the place hers. To understand the history, undaunted by the scale. We had a project on our hands. Belvedere was ours to reinvent.
In some ways, the fire had done us a favour.
When we reached the suite of rooms I’d chosen to live in, I carried Beth over the threshold and promised her two things: that I would deal with my uncle, and that Beth would always be safe.
In turn, because that was her way, Beth took my face in her hands, kissed me, and swore the same things. Which was why I had a question to ask of her. Though I knew she’d hate it and I’d be in for a fight.
This afternoon, I would meet with my trustees. My inheritance hearing.
Richard would likely turn up, which I could do nothing to prevent.
Beth couldn’t attend.
What if it went wrong and the shock hurt her? What if Richard said one wrong word to her and I leapt over the table and took him by the throat?
I desperately wanted her at my side, but it was in everyone’s interest to have the meeting done as rapidly as possible then, assuming it went in my favour, I’d have the power to eject my uncle from the room, the house, and the very land.
I swore in my wedding vows to protect my wife. But I also valued my balls.
Beth stuck her head in one of the suite’s four spare bedrooms and whistled. “We could make any one of these a nursery, but I want the baby to sleep in with us. Don’t you?”
“I do. I want my family around me.” Then I sucked in a breath. “Which leads me on to something we need to discuss. I want you to sit out the meeting with the trustees.”
She gave me a stony look.
“Stay with the Hinchcliffes until it’s over.”
“In case Richard is rude to me?” Her eyebrow popped up in amusement. Then she marched over and stood in front of me, challenging me with her fierce gaze. “I get one opportunity to watch that asshole crash and burn, and you want to take that away from me?”
I raised my hands. “I can’t take it if he says one word wrong to you.”
“Which he’ll do whether I’m there or not. If I’m absent, it’ll just be behind my back. You’ll hear it all the same. Plus, this is about me, too, not just you.”
She had a point. I drew my eyebrows in and opened my mouth.
Beth leapt in before I could speak. “And don’t you dare say it’s bad for the baby. That won’t be an excuse to wrap me in cotton wool every five minutes. I have a right to fight my corner. You don’t get to become all macho just because I’ve taken your name.”
Beth in a rising temper was glorious. She paced a few steps then rounded back on me.
“I want this, your protective instinct, and if it wasn’t important, I’d listen.
But I can’t wait somewhere else and know that you are sitting across from him.
If you want me to bring out the big guns, I will.
We made vows, in a church, with witnesses—”
I kissed her, stopping her mouth with mine.
“Don’t try to distract me,” she muttered. Then she made a humming noise and kissed me back.
“I’m not. I agree with you.” Lifting her hair from her neck, I laid my lips to the spot under her ear that smelled amazing, that had her grinning and curling in around me.
“But if he goes near you, I’ll be on him like a ton of bricks. And you will stay well back.” I’d never been a violent man, but defending my family was now my right, and my duty.
“Aw, baby. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The first of the trustees arrived with a box of paperwork, struggling to heft it through the door.
I moved to help her bring it to the table then shook her hand.
Margaret Stanhope. She’d seemed ancient when I was a child and looked exactly the same now, even wearing the same red spectacles she always had.
Howard Marks followed soon after, two legal assistants in his wake.
Inspector Cox would show her face at the end of the meeting. She was already on-site, enjoying a walk in the grounds. Ella was on her way, bringing the items she’d taken from the house. A simple conversation with the inspector, once the meeting had taken place, would close the police case.
We seated ourselves around the highly polished dining table in one of the larger receptions. The room where my parents had always hosted their important meetings. I felt them around me, watching. Beth perched on the chair to my right, our position dead centre to the double doors into the room.
My uncle was late. If he was going to show.
“Congratulations on your marriage.” Howard smiled, peering at us benevolently.
“Seconded. I’ve looked forward to this day since you were a small boy,” Margaret Stanhope added. “What a wonderful thing to see you so happy.”
“Beth and I are glad you’re here. Ms Stanhope, Mr Marks, let’s start,” I said with a nod to the ornate clock on the sideboard.
The lawyer raised his eyebrows. “We have a majority, we can proceed. In line with…” He paused, then sighed. “I hear footsteps.”
The doors burst open, and Richard marched in. Two people followed, legal-looking types, instantly setting up laptops and paperwork. Taking over the space. He came with lawyers? My spine straightened, and I stared at the man who had done everything to disrupt this day. My happiness.
“I see everyone is here. Plus hangers-on,” Richard quipped. He adjusted the cufflinks at his wrist and eyed the room. “I’ll start with—”
“You’ll start with nothing.” I stood, my chair silent on the ancient rug. “I can’t stop you being here but I don’t have to suffer hearing your voice. You can sit there and shut up.” I turned my gaze on his lawyers. “I will have to ask you both to leave. My apologies for the waste of your time.”
“You can’t!” Richard lifted his chin. “I’m entitled to representation.”
I blinked. “Why? You aren’t on trial.”
“That’s correct, Mr Fitzroy,” Margaret added. “You are here as a member of the board. Lord Fitzroy can allow or deny any additional people as he pleases. This is his meeting.”
“Damn right it is.” Beth beamed.
Richard cut her a look, his first since he’d entered the room. At his sides, the two lawyers undid all their laying out. With a snap of their laptops, they left.
Beth held Richard’s glare.
My jaw ached from clenching, and I placed both hands on the table.
I was so close to losing my control. After everything he’d done, the long years of him moulding me into his puppet lord, the lack of family and of the basic right of love, the threats and the fire, the only thing he could do to affect me now was insult the woman who I loved more than life itself.
He dropped his gaze and Beth chuckled.
“Don’t start fires if you can’t take the heat,” she said, and Richard grimaced, his attention now on his papers.
Howard cleared his throat then started again.
The meeting commenced, and I took my seat once more.
But I couldn’t stop staring at my uncle.
I hated his cruelty, but I knew why he’d done it.
In his twisted mind, this was his. The list of historic references.
The summary of my family’s long line. Beth’s attention was on Howard as she listened intently, learning what she was now part of.
At the same time, Richard was losing it all.
He knew it, surely. He couldn’t be that blind.
At last, Howard came to the first—and most important—of the statements. In short sentences and an exchange of paperwork—my birth certificate and my and Beth’s marriage certificate—a heavy leather archive was produced.
Howard Marks and Margaret Stanhope signed their lines. My uncle said nothing. He didn’t reach for the proffered pen.
I signed, adding a flourish.
“And now your bride.” Howard slid the ledger to Beth.
“Wait. She cannot sign the book. I have proof this girl is ineligible.” Richard stood.
Margaret frowned over her red spectacles. “What proof?”
“She’s a criminal and a debtor. She brings no value to the family—”
“I ask again,” Margaret cut in, her tone hard and her intolerance for my uncle plain. “What proof do you have, Mr Fitzroy?”
I held my breath. At my side, Beth went statue still. After the wedding, Howard had rushed through the legal work to clear her record. It had been done, but no one was sure exactly how today’s decision would be made. What cut-off date applied. What small print Richard could invoke.
My uncle smirked then passed over a printed record.
Margaret examined it. “This is not current.” She turned her attention to Beth. “Are you currently subject to any live criminal convictions, restrictions to your movements, court fines, or any other such legal matters?”
“No,” Beth answered, simply and clearly.
“What proof does she have of that?” Richard spluttered.
Margaret looked over her glasses at Howard. “What is the normal practice when we have a trivial matter such as this to decide on? Ah, a vote, I believe.”
She swept her gaze around the room. “All those in favour of further investigation into Lady Fitzroy’s current legal status?”
Richard held up his hand.
She scribbled on her notepad. “And all those against?”
She held her hand aloft, as did Howard.