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“Accept? Gertrude, it is out of my control.” Ophelia tried to persuade her stepmother to understand, but the woman just kept shaking her head. “This is my father’s will. It is what he wanted, not what you or I wanted.”
With this in mind, Ophelia returned to the desk and took the quill from the solicitor. With a flourish, she signed her name, aware that behind her a sound escaped Gertrude. It was guttural, one of pain.
What is going on?
Ophelia knew this had to be a blow for Gertrude, but she was hardly going to turn her stepmother out of their home. Of course, she could continue to live there if she so wished to. This was merely a formality at this point, to ensure probate was sorted. They could not put it off any longer.
“This is absurd. Ophelia, you and I must speak of this.” She crossed to the desk and signed her name anyway, the quill moving so quickly in her hand that it scratched audibly on the paper. Meanwhile, Ophelia picked up the chair that Gertrude had knocked over earlier and offered an apologetic smile to the solicitor.
“I do not understand what you expect me to do,” Ophelia whispered as Gertrude took her wrist and led her out of the room. This time, they reached the stairs, and no one made an effort to stop them.
On the stairs, Ophelia retracted her hand from her stepmother’s grasp, refusing to suffer the pain anymore. “It is out of our control, Gertrude. My father has made his bequest and it is a good one. Is it not? Five hundred pounds a year is very healthy indeed.”
“Is it?” Gertrude did not look convinced as she hurried down the steps.
***
“Harriet! You should have been there. It was quite absurd.”
“Gertrude, do be quiet, or your stepdaughter will hear you shouting from her bedchamber.”
Gertrude could not be quiet, nor still. She paced her sister’s bedchamber, deep in worry. Ever since she had spoken to the solicitor earlier that day, she had been reeling. To think her husband would leave her like this, with so little money to her name, gutted her. The solicitor had gone on at length that it was ample enough for a comfortable life.
Comfortable? He speaks to me of comfort!
It was mad to hear how much more Ophelia had been given than Gertrude. After all, Ophelia would marry someday, no doubt. She would have her husband’s estate, but Gertrude was unlikely to marry again. What estate would she have to her name?
“How can Oliver give so much to his daughter? How could he stand to leave me in such destitution—hmm!” Gertrude was cut off as her sister laid a hand over her mouth.
“As lovely as it is to have you here, Gertrude, I do not want you shouting my house down.” Harriet slowly lowered her hand, releasing Gertrude’s lips. “Now, be calm, sister. Let us think rationally about this.”
Harriet took one of Gertrude’s shoulders and pushed her into sitting on a chaise longue at the bottom of the bed. Harriet took her place pacing, though she seemed much calmer than Gertrude had been. She kept clasping and releasing her fingers like a cat with long claws scratching itself. Her brow was furrowed deeply, and her manner was altogether quite calculating.
“Before my husband died, I made sure he was to leave everything he had to myself and our son, George.”
“He did as you asked?” Gertrude found the fact made her angrier still. Harriet’s husband had been a viscount, a man who had lacked much wit and intelligence. Harriet had clearly married him for one reason only—the money.
Still, such a dim-witted man had taken more care to provide for his wife than Oliver had done. Gertrude had always thought Oliver to be a sensible and clever man. She knew he had loved her, but it seemed that love only stretched so far.
He did not love me as much as he loved his daughter. I see that now.
“Yes, the viscount was never very good at saying no to me.” Harriet smiled with triumph, her curled hair so tight to her face that it shifted on her cheeks with the movement. “I regret to say that George is not so careful with money. He has a habit of spending it.”
“Young men. They often do spend in such ways.”
“Gertrude, if we are to protect you, then we must find a way for you to get your stepdaughter’s money.” Harriet’s words sounded reasonable, yet also impractical.
Gertrude held her hands up in the air as if pleading to the heavens themselves for help.
“It is impossible. Yes, Ophelia does not need the money as I do. When she marries, she’ll be well taken care of, but she’s not going to give it up, is she?” Gertrude scoffed at the idea, shaking her head. “She has far too much respect for her father’s wishes.”
She thought back to the surprise on Ophelia’s face when the solicitor had revealed the news of the inheritance. At first, she had thought Ophelia was as shocked as she was, but the more she thought of it, the more she feared that Ophelia may have known all along.
“I feel as if I have been duped by my own stepdaughter. No doubt she persuaded her father to do such a thing, to forget the woman he loved, the woman he married, forher.”
“Whatever the truth of the matter is, it must be stopped.” Harriet moved to join Gertrude on the chaise longue. “An idea has just occurred to me. The more I think of it, the less I think it mad.”
“Mad?” Gertrude frowned a little. Seeing the excitement on her sister’s face, she could not hold herself back. “Go on, sister.”
