“I hope it might work,” she said softly.
“I hope so too,” he replied in an equally subdued voice. They were working together toward the same goal, and it brought James a wind of poignant nostalgia. The manner between them was as it once had been. But Time was swiftly marching them out of each other’s lives once again, and this time it would be permanent.
James returned to his inn with the sensation of having lived two days in one. As he entered his rooms, he glanced at his pocket watch and saw that it was only six o’clock. A pile of correspondence had been left for him on the side table in the entryway, and he went to sift through the letters.
None of them looked to be good news. The letter from his father did not likely carry cheerful tidings, for his father never wrote with no set purpose or to ask James for his news. When he did write, it was usually to tell him of something unpleasant in nature. The rest were all bills, which caused James’s throat to tighten. He had been dreading these, as he was not sure he would be able to pay them all. And they had all arrived at once. It would help to have Mr. Vroomen’s patients to treat for the time he and his wife would be away.
He sat on the solitary armchair in his room and slit open the bills first. One required twenty florins for his seasonal subscription to the comedy, which he had been foolish enough to pledge, thinking it a good way to meet the people he hoped to serve as physician. His new pair of gloves that he had pretended to leave at Annette and Lubin’s were a florin and ten patars. The horse rentals were each another florin, and he had been renting one almost daily. Even though he had reduced his meals at La Redoute, he was still spending more than he had.
James set the bills on the table, a sick feeling in his stomach.The modest sum gained from returning the sapphire pin would probably meet his obligations for this month, but it would not help him with the future ones. His only hope was that the baths would become more of an instant success than he dared to expect.
When he had opened all of the other bills, he finally broke the seal on his father’s letter. It was dated the eighteenth of May.
James, it began.
I thought it best as your father that I be the one to break the news that your great-aunt Mary has given up her earthly home at last. It came as a surprise to all of us, and I am sure it must to you, as well. We all thought she would hang on to life for much longer.
As you may know, your brother has taken pains to visit her in her last days, which pleased her and caused her to look upon his situation more favorably. I did warn you that she was no more approving of your pursuing a career as a physician than I was. To cut matters short, she has changed her will and has made Adam the heir—
James broke off reading with an oath.
—despite the fact that he is already next in line for the Fletcher fortune, and you know what she thought of me.
This may come as a shock to you, for we none of us thought that you would be disinherited. She has always remained quite firm on the matter. However, given the fact that you have made your life on the Continent and have chosen to pursue a profession rather than to marry well and carry on the life of a gentleman—
James’s fingers tightened on the letter. A gentleman remained such even if he took on a respectable profession. But his fatherhad always been single-minded in his focus of raising the Fletcher name in prestige. Nothing would do but for James to become a landowner and preferably marry an heiress.
I suppose it makes more sense for Adam to be the recipient of the sum, the letter continued.He will be able to do great things for the Fletcher name. Your mother sends her greetings. Yours, etc. Fletcher.
James threw the letter down and allowed himself one fulminating moment before attempting to control his rage. Adam had deliberately set out to win their great-aunt’s favor so he might benefit from the money. It was not to make an old woman’s last days pleasurable. Yet, James hoped that she had been made happy by the attention, even if it had been deceitfully offered. It was that which angered him—that he could be related to a family of such greed. He could not understand it.
He glanced at the pile of bills on the table. How was he to pay those now? It was not as though he had been expecting the inheritance this week or even this year, but knowing it would come one day had always relieved a certain pressure, reminding him that no matter what happened, he would come about. Now, he had truly been stripped bare. He had nothing to his name.
James was brooding on this when his thoughts shifted. Wait ... was this not a blessing in disguise? Mr. Prexley would not be so set on having James as a son-in-law if he were practically destitute. It was only his inheritance that had made the Prexleys hold fast to the engagement. Perhaps he could use this news to good account.If only it might serve!He would have to inform Isabel of his change of status as soon as possible, for it would affect her too.
As he mulled it over further, a tremor of anticipation went through him. In learning of his loss of fortune, perhaps—just perhaps—Isabel would not be so determined to cling to theengagement. With no ball at La Redoute that evening, he might be able to catch the Prexleys at home still.
James was admitted into the Prexley residence, where he learned that Isabel was at home and Mr. Prexley was not. He supposed either would serve his purpose.
“James.” Isabel entered the room, looking fresh and attractive, something that might have brought him pleasure at one time. “I am glad you have decided to call on me. You have not done so in an age, and I’ve had to wait to see you at public gatherings. May I hope that we can put that little disagreement behind us?”
James, unmoved by her attempt to be agreeable, came to the point. “I have news I must share.”
“News?” Isabel raised an eyebrow. She turned and gestured to the chairs. “Please sit, then.”
James did as he was bid and waited until she settled in her chair and gave her full attention. “I’ve received a letter from my father today, and it does not contain good tidings, I am afraid.”
“Oh.” Isabel’s expression was filled with concern. “I hope you are not going to tell me that something has happened to your mother or another member of your family? That would be very hard on you.” She stopped suddenly. “And it would delay our wedding, which neither of us could wish for. Oh, James, do put me out of my suspense.”
He shook his head. “All is well with my immediate family. It is only that my great-aunt has died—”
Isabel leaped to her feet, her worry changing to astonishment, then rapture in an instant. She clasped her hands together. “Did she indeed? But that is not bad news! You will not be obliged to wait before we marry, then, for she is not an immediate relation. And you will have no need of the income from my father’s patients.” She sent him a true smile. “We will be able to travel everywhere, and for as long as we like.”
She was about to resume her seat, but James stood as well. “The unfortunate news, Isabel,” he said gently, “is that my aunt has not left her fortune to me in the end. She left it to my brother.”
After a long moment of blank incomprehension, a look of dismay filled Isabel’s face. “But ... but how can that be? You said she did not like your father and did not wish for his heir to receive any part of her fortune. I thought your inheritance was a certainty.”
A hard edge tinted his voice when he answered. “You always knew that it was no sure thing, Isabel. I never concealed from you that you would have to take me for me and not for my inheritance, for it was only an expectation.”
