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“Of course. Though the mere fact that we must exert ourselves to do so…” She put a hand on some papers on the desk beside her. “I’ve had Figgs draw up a document for you and your father to sign.”
Wondering what the solicitor had to do with his father’s health, Kenver held out his hand for it.
She didn’t give it to him.
“I am always thinking of the good of Poldene, you know,” she said instead.
“I know you are, Mama.” The good of the people living here seemed a separate issue for her. Far less important.
“I’m glad you agree with me, Kenver. We will work very well together, I think.”
As if his father was already gone. “I can’t agree with anything until I’ve read the document,” Kenver pointed out.
His mother waved a careless hand. “It is convoluted. These lawyers scarcely write English, do they? ‘Herewith’… What a word!”
“I will endeavor to puzzle through it.” Kenver was proud of his tone. He felt he’d almost achieved the Duke of Tereford’s languid sarcasm. He held out his hand again.
She picked up the pages, slowly. Finally she gave them to him. Kenver began to read. The documentwasstuffed with legal jargon, and his mother’s intense stare was a distraction, but he pushed on.
“Really, Kenver,” she began after a while.
“You must let me get to the end, Mama.”
The verbiage seemed endless. The tension in the room cranked higher. But Kenver concentrated all his faculties, and at last, he finished. “This appears to limit my power to make decisions about the estate. Rather severely. And it stipulates that Sarah will never have any say, no matter what the circumstances.” He met her eyes and continued with purposeful starkness. “Even if every other member of the family has dropped dead.”
“I wouldn’t put it…”
“Figgs more or less did,” Kenver interrupted, tapping the page with one finger.
“You exaggerate.”
“No, Mama, I don’t.”
She leaned forward. Her eyes burned with the fervor of a fanatic. “The most important thing is to keep a great estate intact and thriving.”
Setting aside the fact that other things in the world were more crucial, Kenver said, “And you think, in our case, that only you can do that.”
“I am the one who has!” she exclaimed.
“I know you have done well. Papa does too.”
She looked gratified. “Well then.”
“But that doesn’t mean no one else can manage.”
“Your father is a fool.”
“You know, I don’t think he is, Mama.”
“And so are you. Not to mention that girl you…”
“It would be better if you did not—” Kenver cut in.
His mother clenched her fists. “If you think you can set me aside after all I have given to this place.” She bared her teeth in fury and…fear.
Kenver wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her afraid before. Perhaps he’d simply never recognized it. He saw it now. And understood. His father was the Earl of Trestan. He was the heir. In the view of the world, they were the powers at Poldene. His mother had no standing unless she could convince or intimidate. And she hated this, with a bitterness that spilled over into every part of her life.
“Do you want to see your heritage fall into ruin?” she hissed.
