“Well, Mr. Pratt has found him, and he is alive and not killed in battle as I feel bound to admit I’d been hoping. There is indeed an heir and he will be arriving in two days’ time to take possession of Windrush.”
“Did he turn out to be a sailor like his father?” Mims asked. “Is that why he could have been killed in battle? In a sea battle like Trafalgar?”
“Not quite,” Miranda said. “He is a soldier not a sailor, and they, of course, are just as often in large battles, if not more so.”
“I was hoping he would be dead too,” Megs admitted. “I mentioned it in my prayers every night.”
Her sisters rounded on her in shock. “You can’t pray for people to die,” Melissa said. “God will punish you if you do things like that.”
“Perhaps he has,” Mims said. “After all, he’s sent the heir to us, hasn’t he? Perhaps if Megs hadn’t asked for him to be dead, he wouldn’t have.”
“Mama was hoping he would be dead,” Megs said, arms folded in belligerence. “So it must be her fault too.”
“It’s no one’s fault,” Miranda said. What she wanted to say wasthat it was no one’s but their father’s, but she didn’t have the heart to speak ill of him to them.
“Is he coming with his children?” Megs, who always complained about being left out by her older sisters, asked. No doubt she was hopeful there would be a girl her age to play with.
“Oh.” Melissa pulled a face. “Does that mean he’s coming with his family?”
Miranda sighed, suddenly exhausted by the day’s tribulations. “I’m afraid I have no idea. Mr. Pratt couldn’t tell me. All I know is that he is an army captain—a medical officer who fought at Waterloo and was wounded.”
“So hecouldhave been dead?” Megs persisted. “I might pray tonight that he can still die of his wounds in that case.”
“Please don’t do that,” Miranda said. “I might have been hoping against hope that he was no longer living, but I was not actively hoping for his death. So neither should you. It would be most un-Christian. And even if he were to die now, the estate would then go to his own nearest living relative which would not be us. He has a sister he’s been living with while he recovers from his wounds.”
Megs’ bottom lip jutted. “All right then. I won’t.”
Miriam’s frown deepened. “But what does all of this mean for us? If he’s coming here in two days’ time, then where are we going?”
Megs, her momentary sulk banished, almost bounced off her seat. “And what about our horses?” They were the most important thing in the world to her. “Will he inherit our horses too?” Her voice rose in panic. “Will his children get Banshee? I couldn’t bear that.” She scowled. “I might have to kill them for it.”
Miranda frowned at her youngest child. “Do stop talking about killing, Megs. You’re quite worrying me. Anyone would think you were going to grow up to be a vagabond.”
“She probably is,” Miriam put in.
Miranda sighed again. Why was it when she really needed theirsupport her daughters were intent on not being helpful at all? “You must all remember that we don’t know this man at all. This lost heir. He could be a nice person, or perhaps he may not be. We won’t know until we meet him. We shall have to see. But I won’t let him take our horses. Have no fear. We’ll keep them safe.”
“Did Papa leave the horses to us?” Miriam asked, always the one to understand the nub of a problem.
Miranda put on what she hoped was a brave smile. “Not precisely.”
Silence. The girls must all be thinking this over.
Miriam understood first. “Did he leave us anything at all apart from that old farmhouse?”
Time to tell them the truth. She’d been avoiding it too long in the hopes the lost heir would never materialize. Miranda straightened her spine. “I’m afraid he didn’t. He made his will before you were born and hadn’t taken the trouble to amend it. I’m sure if he had, he would have left dowries for you all.”
“And what about you, Mama?” Miriam asked. “What did he leave you? He must have left you some money to live on, and you can use that for us as well, can’t you?”
Miranda swallowed. “I’m afraid he made his will not long after we were first married, and he was of the opinion that if he died I would soon remarry. He…he didn’t leave me anything either. Just the farmhouse you already know about.”
“Nothing?” Melissa whispered. “Nothing at all? Then what are we going to eat?”
“You mean what are the horses going to eat?” Megs almost shouted.
Miranda pressed her lips together for a moment. “I’m afraid we are going to have to fend for ourselves. As are our horses, Megs. But I’m quite sure we can. We are all resourceful, are we not?”
None of the girls looked as though they were convinced by this.
