“Your inheritance.”
“What about it?”
“It’s ten thousand a year,” Niall said.
Heather looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “Excuse me?”
“According to Wiggins, the solicitor who’s smugly perched in the laird’s room upstairs, your annual income will be approximately ten thousand.”
“Ten?” she gasped out. “That’s impossible.”
“If true, it explains why your uncle had been so eager to split your income with Mr. Webb,” Niall pointed out.
“Ten thousand,” Maeve echoed, sounding appalled. “That’s a fortune.”
Heather said, still shaking her head, “This solicitor you mentioned, is he still here? Let’s meet with him—not in your father’s room. I have questions for him.”
Wiggins was sent for, and a short while later sat with the trio of Niall, Heather, and Maeve. He looked just as pallid, yet composed, as before.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. MacNair. What can I do for you?”
“You can explain why you believe I’m worth ten times more than I believe I’m worth,” Heather said sharply. “My uncle told me what I should expect a number of times, and I overheard him discussing financial matters with the man he wanted me to marry, mentioning a split of money that would have given both men five hundred per year. So where is this extra amount coming from?”
“Mrs. MacNair,” Wiggins said, “It may come as a surprise to you, but men are not always truthful. If your uncle told you you were worth much less, it was for reasons of his own.”
Heather bit her lip, her expression stormy. “That does sound like him."
Wiggins slid a few papers toward her. “A statement from an official at your family’s bank in London. It confirms the holdings and the expected annual payout.”
Heather picked up the paper and read the figures. Though she was outwardly still composed, Niall could sense the turmoil she was going through, and wished he could stop it. His brief speculation that Heather was playing some game seemed stupid now. She was obviously distressed by the revelation.
“But at my house, a few years ago, I saw a document with the amount…” Heather trailed off.
“What is it?” Niall asked gently.
“I was recalling the moment. I glimpsed the papers on my uncle’s desk, and I was curious, because he never shared such things with me. The only document I saw had1000written on it…butit had been partly covered by another page. A page that must have hidden that last crucial digit,” Heather said.
She used the papers in her hands to hide her face from the others. “If only I’d had a few more seconds. I would have known and everything might be different now.”
Niall felt a wave of discomfiting heat in his body. What she meant was that she wouldn’t be here at Carregness, tangled up with him.
“So Heather really is worth ten thousand a year,” Niall said glumly.
Wiggins nodded at him. “Yes, sir. And the money is entirely yours, since the marriage was entered into without any special legal understanding, and nothing entailed. She isfemina covert, legally an extension of the husband. You control her wealth and worth.”
“What?Hecontrols it?” Heather looked at Niall, horror written across her face. She bolted out of her chair.
“Heather, wait. We can discuss this.”
“There is nothing to discuss,” Wiggins interposed. “A wife is the property of her husband, and all she owned is now owned by him.”
Heather took in a shaky breath. She looked at Niall, who’d taken a step toward her with the intention of comforting her. But she didn’t want anything from him. She glared at him with tears in her eyes. Then she whirled around and fled the room.
Chapter 15
Heather ran to her bedchamber and locked her door the moment she got there. Then she stared at the connecting door to Niall’s room. Though it was already locked (and Niall had given her the key to keep, to ensure that she had complete control over when the door could be opened), she suddenly felt like a cornered animal. How could she trust anyone after they learned how much money she was worth? How could she trust Niall in particular, when all he had to do to get her money was to refuse the annulment?
She slid the heavy chest from the foot of her bed to block the door. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than before.
