Chapter 20
WESTON
“Fecking hell,” I muttered under my breath, dropping the rest of the mail as I tore open the letter from Hatchett, McBride & Co., Solicitors.
Agnes covered her mouth with her hand while she waited for what we both knew was bad news. “Tell me it’s not what I think it is?”
I scanned the letter, my lips curling back over my teeth as a red-hot flush surged through my veins. The subject line read The Estate of the Late Peter Kincaid.
“We write on behalf of our client, Mr. Jasper Kincaid, in regard to the above matter,” I said out loud, every word making the fire inside me flame hotter. “Be advised that our client intends to formally contest the terms of the will. We request that no distribution of the estate be undertaken.”
“I knew it,” Agnes said, clicking her tongue disapprovingly.
“Bloody fecking hell!” I shouted, tossing the letter down on Grandad’s desk. It took everything inside me not to pick it up again and tear it to shreds. “Goddammit, Jasper!”
Agnes crossed her arms, scowling down at the letter.
“I knew the moment I saw it that it wouldn’t be good news.
Jasper’s been out to make trouble since the funeral.
Remember how Callum saw him out there?” she said, pointing to the window toward the coastline where Jasper had been spotted after ducking out of the graveside service early.
“That ungrateful rat’s arse couldn’t even let your Grandad rest one moment before starting this pish. ”
I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth.
“What’s going on?” Lena asked, poking her head into the room.
“That no-good cousin of his is contesting the will!” Agnes said, throwing her hands up. “That’s what.”
Lena frowned, looking from Agnes to me. “Are you serious?”
I jerked my head in confirmation.
She stepped forward, holding her hand out for the letter. I gave it to her.
Agnes huffed. “I’ll go and put the kettle on,” she said. “I think we’ll all need a cup of tea after this.”
“Maybe something stronger,” I growled.
“Aye,” she agreed, disappearing.
Lena drummed her fingers against her lips as she read, and something about it flamed the irritation inside me. I wanted to burst from the frustration. I wanted to set off and pace the length of the main floor, but she was so goddamn still.
“He’s contesting on the grounds of fraud?
” she finally said. She kept reading. “…for intentionally misleading…” Her eyes narrowed.
“‘ …via a calculated arrangement to satisfy a conditional inheritance with no intention of fulfilling the true intentions of the requirement.’ What right does he have to assume any of that?”
She glanced up at me, concern and confusion etched into her features. My hands had curled into fists. I pressed them into the desk. “There’s more. The next page is their supposed proof.”
Lena flipped the page. It was a scan of Isla’s social media post. “Narissa’s comments on the festival post,” she said, finally putting all the pieces together. She sighed. “That’s his grounds for contesting the will?”
“He’s taking Narissa’s comment at face value.
Her claim that this,” I gestured between us, “is all a sham gives him enough grounds to claim we haven’t truly complied with the conditions of the will.
What the hell was he expecting, for us to hang the bloody bedsheets from the flagpole to signal we’d consummated the marriage? ”
“What now?”
I waved my hand at her shocked look. “Never mind.”
Lena snapped a picture of the letter. “I’ll get this over to your personal attorney right away.”
I grumbled, rubbing my eyes. Anger burned behind them, making my head ache. Narrissa had blabbed her nonsense to the social media sphere that I was a fraud, and now Jasper was coming for everything he thought he deserved.
He was coming for my inheritance.
For the land Grandad had entrusted to me.
But I hadn’t cheated. Maybe my marriage had an unconventional beginning, but that didn’t stop it from being real. She was safe and happy. She was being cared for. Her needs were being met. It might not be a true-love, fairy-tale marriage, but there was respect here. There was trust.
And that mattered more than some blasted feelings.
Besides, Grandad never said I couldn’t marry my assistant.
His instructions had just said to get married, plain and simple. And the man had only given me thirty damn days, so what exactly did he expect?
“I don’t…” Lena began. “What do you want to—” She trailed off as her phone buzzed in her hand. She was quiet for a moment as she stared down at it, then her shoulders slumped, and I knew it wasn’t good news. She looked up at me helplessly.
“What now?”
“Legal just let me know that some competitors have opened talks with the local government about a wind farm in the area.”
I ran my hand through my hair, latching onto the strands, growling under my breath. “Fuck. Who is it?”
“The Lawton Group.”
“Are you kidding me?” I snapped. “Jasper. It must be.” Callum’s warning about spying my cousin out near the water hit me full force. This had been his plan all along, and I’d thrown a bloody wrench in it when I showed up with a wife in tow.
I started pacing, barely hanging onto my temper. Of all the goddamn competitors Jasper could have chosen, he’d picked them?
“Which likely means he’s confident in his ability to successfully contest the inheritance,” Lena said.
“Shite!” I shoved Grandad’s desk chair out of the way.
It thumped against the wall, making Lena jump.
If the Lawton Group was known for anything, it was their dodgy business practices—cutting corners on safety, bulldozing the local wildlife.
“If Jasper gets a hold of Lochbrae, he’s going to let the Lawton Group ruin this place! ”
I could picture it now: clearcutting the woodlands without replanting, slapping up the cheapest infrastructure without consulting the community, dumping chemicals into the nearby lochs.
But cutting corners meant a bigger chunk of change going into Jasper’s pocket, and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to proceed with all of the Lawton Group’s horrible plans.
It was infuriating. I whirled around, catching the moment Lena’s entire face fell. I exhaled sharply, doing my best to swallow down the bile that shot up my throat. I knew she already blamed herself for the fact that Narissa had found out about the terms of the will in the first place.
But this wasn’t her doing. I was the one who’d invited Narissa into my life.
And I was the one who’d kicked her out of it again. This bloody revenge she yearned for was a direct consequence of me damaging her pride. I couldn’t put that on Lena. But now was not a moment for rational thinking. I needed to get out of here for a while and decompress.
I walked around the desk slowly, reaching out and pressing my hands to Lena’s shoulders.
“I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted.
I kissed the top of her head. “I employ very good lawyers,” I said. “We start with that. Keep me posted on the developments.”
She nodded. “Where are you going?”
“Callum asked for my help earlier. He thinks he found the gap in the fence where Bonnie keeps getting onto the property. I’m gonna go give him a hand and walk some of this frustration off. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” she said.
I mustered what I thought was a reassuring smile, then trudged off through the door.
By the time I reached the pasture where Callum was working, I’d read the email from legal at least half a dozen times.
Of all the things the bastard could do with the land, this was the biggest kick in the teeth.
Jasper wasn’t a fool. He knew damn well the Lawton Group would likely ruin the local environment around Lochbrae, meaning no future generation of Kincaid would ever want to settle on the property.
That alone was payback for both him and his father being left out of the bulk of the inheritance.
And he was taking it out on the town by handing over the keys to a developer who wouldn’t give a rat’s arse about prioritizing the economic growth or development of Braeburn.
They wouldn’t prioritize giving jobs to the locals.
They wouldn’t invest in the town’s infrastructure.
And they certainly wouldn’t care one iota about what happened to this community.
The walk across the pasture did nothing to temper my anger.
“What’s crawled up your kilt?” Callum called as I approached.
“Nothing,” I grunted.
Callum took one look at me, arched a bushy eyebrow, and handed me the shovel. “Looks like you need this more than I do.”
I took the shovel and started digging where he pointed, my fingers blanching around the handle from gripping it so hard.
“You gonna tell me why your face looks like you just trod in sheep shite with your fancy Italian loafers?” Callum asked after a few moments. “Or do you want me to guess?”
“You know, I would have preferred the sheep shite,” I grumbled as I tossed a shovelful of dirt aside to make room for a new fence post. I stopped, jamming the shovel into the ground, taking a breather. “Jasper is contesting the will.”
“Ah,” Callum said, sounding rather surprised. “I never liked that cousin of yours. Always thought he had a shifty look about him.”
I snorted as I started digging again. “You and everyone else who’s ever met him.”
Callum clicked his tongue. “I knew he was up to trouble when I spotted him out here the day of your grandad’s funeral.” He tapped my shoulder. “That’s deep enough. Help me get this new post in.” He gestured to a large log resting nearby on the ground.
Together, we heaved the log into the hole, packing it in until it was stable. When that was done, I helped Callum string the wire.
“Think this’ll keep Bonnie out?”
“Eh, probably not,” Callum admitted. “She’s likely tunneling her way into the other end of the property as we speak.”
I snorted.
“So what are his grounds for contesting?” Callum asked. “I thought Pete’s will was airtight.”