Prince Charming (30 page)

“Probably,” Taylor replied. “Madam wouldn't allow anyone to drink any spirits in her company.”

The banker continued to recollect one humorous incident after another. All involved Taylor's odd behavior around her uncle Malcolm.

She wasn't smiling over the memories. Lucas wondered how long it would take Summers to realize she didn't find anything amusing about her uncle. She'd been afraid of him when she was a little girl. Lucas listened to the stories and came to that easy conclusion. What surprised him was that Taylor was still afraid of the man. The way she clenched her hands together, added to the look in her eyes, indicated her fear bordered on terror.

He was about to change the topic when Summers finished with his recollections and asked Taylor if she'd had a calm voyage from London. Sherman joined in the conversation. Lucas stood behind his wife while the two gentlemen continued to fawn over her. They were harmless enough, he supposed, but he still didn't like the way the younger man stared at Taylor.

 

Harry Sherman waited until Taylor was once again engaged in conversation with his colleague, then motioned Lucas to the back of the room. In a low voice he asked if Taylor had heard about her grandmother's death.

“Her uncle Andrew sent a telegram,” he explained.

Sherman looked relieved. “I hated to be the one to tell her. The two of them were very close, like mother and daughter. I can barely take it in myself. I'll miss her.”

Taylor was just taking her seat when Sherman asked Lucas if she were up to going over all the details in the will. “Her grandmother made several changes, and I don't believe Taylor is aware of all the ramifications. The terms are going to cause quite a stir in the family. Mark my words, there's going to be trouble.”

An hour later, after all the conditions had been explained, Taylor was feeling sick to her stomach.

Lucas thought she'd become ill. She looked ready to pass out. Her complexion had turned as white as her gloves. Summers had already left his office in search of witnesses to the documents Taylor would have to sign, and Sherman, observing the swift change in his client, went to fetch a glass of water for her. He told Lucas grief was surely the culprit, and talking about dear Lady Esther's last wishes was simply proving to be too much for Taylor to endure.

Lucas sat next to Taylor. He waited until they were alone, then reached over and took hold of her hand.

“Are you going to be all right?”

She didn't answer him. She was staring down at her hands and seemed to be lost in thought.

He squeezed her hand to get her attention, and when that action didn't get any response, he reached over and took hold of her chin. He gently nudged her to look at him.

There were tears in her eyes. She was trembling. Taylor wasn't battling her grief. She was fighting her fear. Her eyes told the truth. She was terrified all right, and he was determined to find out why.

“Oh, Lucas, what has Madam done?” She grabbed hold of his hand and held tight.

He was taken aback by the question. “Are you upset because she left so much of her money to charities, Taylor?” He answered his own question before she could. “No, of course you aren't. You probably suggested she divide her fortune in such a manner. You're still going to receive quite a lot of money. Didn't you expect it?”

“Madam shouldn't have done it. Don't you see? He'll have to come after me now. He won't have any choice. He'll do anything to get the money.”

She had a death grip on his hand. She was getting all worked up, and he didn't have a clue as to what to say or do to calm her down. She was going to have to explain the threat before he could confront it.

Taylor turned her gaze back to her lap. She knew she had to get her emotions under control. Lucas must think she was out of her mind.

“I'm feeling better now,” she lied. She managed a weak smile and looked up at him.

He was frowning with concern. “I'm sorry,” she blurted out. “I didn't mean to go on and on like that. It was just such a surprise. I'm fine now, really.”

He wasn't buying that nonsense for a minute. “You asked the question, What am I going to do? You're married now, Taylor. The question therefore becomes, What are we going to do? Got that?”

He sounded gruff and looked angry. He was acting very like a prince again, she thought.

Her Prince Charming. Lord, whatever had she done to the man? He deserved better. He shouldn't have been saddled with a marriage he didn't want and relatives like Malcolm.

He squeezed her hand then and she realized he was waiting for an answer. She nodded just to placate him. “Yes, I've got it,” she said. “The question should be, What are we going to do?”

He grunted. She guessed that meant he was satisfied. “You're a very charming man, Lucas Ross, even when you make those obscene sounds in the back of your throat.”

He shook his head at her. He wasn't going to let her change the subject.

“Tell me what it is we have to do something about. I can't help you until I know what the problem is.”

“Yes, of course.”

He waited a full minute before he realized she wasn't going to say another word.

He decided he would have to prod the worry out of her. “You said, he'll come after you for the money. You were referring to your uncle Malcolm, weren't you?”

She looked up at him and slowly nodded.

“Now that you're married, he can't touch your inheritance.”

“I realize that.”

She tried to stand up. He stopped her by grabbing hold of her.

“Not so fast,” he ordered. “Tell me why you're upset.”

She was saved from having to answer him when Summers and Sherman came back into the office. Sherman handed her a glass of water. Lucas had to let go of her hands so she could accept the drink. She took advantage of the opportunity and stood up. She took a sip of the water, handed the glass back to the banker with a thank you for his kindness, and then walked across the office to stand near the window. She folded her arms across her waist, her gaze on the pedestrians rushing back and forth on the street below.

Summers took his seat behind the desk. He turned in his chair to look at his client.

“My dear, you're going to have to sign a few papers in order to gain access to your funds.”

She turned around. “What happens if I refuse to sign?”

Summers thought she was jesting with him. The notion that anyone would deliberately turn down any amount of money made him smile.

“It wouldn't matter if you signed or not,” he said. “It's really just a formality for the bank's records. The money will stay in trust, earning you a handsome figure in interest if you decide not to spend any of it now.”

“Please give me the particulars again. How exactly is the money divided?” she asked.

“Two-thirds of the estate goes to charities, as I explained earlier,” Summers said.

She impatiently brushed her hair back. “Yes, yes, the charities. I knew about the charities, but Uncle Malcolm . . . You said he doesn't get the rest. I don't understand. Are you telling me Madam didn't leave her son anything?”

“Let's take this a step at a time,” Sherman suggested. He could tell Taylor was extremely anxious and was trying to calm her down by being methodical.

“The third left after donations to her charities still amounts to a sizable sum, my dear. Your great-uncle Andrew will receive a nice allowance and title to the estate in Scotland. The rest is split between you and the children.”

Taylor closed her eyes. “Was Madam specific or did she simply say children,” she asked.

“She was quite specific. Georganna and Alexandra Henson each receive one-third.” Summers turned to Lucas. “The twin girls are Lady Esther's great-granddaughters.”

“Has the will been read in London yet?” Taylor asked.

“The reading is scheduled for Tuesday,” Summers answered.

“Tomorrow,” Sherman said at the same time.

“Didn't Madam leave anything to her son and his family?” Taylor asked.

“Yes,” Summers replied. “But it's barely a pittance.”

“Not quite so,” Sherman argued. “Malcolm will receive a small monthly stipend. It isn't much, but if he adopts a frugal lifestyle, he should get along all right. Lady Esther left Malcolm's wife exactly one hundred pounds. She said it was the amount of weight her daughter-in-law had put on since she married her son. Madam did have a rather twisted sense of humor,” he added. He turned to Lucas to once again explain. “Lady Esther didn't much care for Loreen. Said she was a complainer.”

“What about Jane?” Taylor asked. “Did Madam leave her anything?”

“She gets the same amount as her mother,” Sherman answered. “Exactly one hundred pounds and not a shilling more.”

Taylor shook her head. She was filled with dread for the future. “When Malcolm finds out what his mother has done, his roar will cross the ocean. He'll be outraged.”

Sherman, who knew Malcolm better than Summers did, nodded agreement. “He'll try to cause trouble, all right. I warned your grandmother, but she wouldn't listen to reason. She told her legal advisers to make certain the will was airtight.”

“What about Malcolm's lands?” Taylor asked.

“As you probably know, he had already mortgaged the property. Your grandmother assigned enough money to pay off all of her son's considerable debts. The total is just above fifty thousand pounds.”

Lucas seemed to be the only one in the office astonished by the figure. How could any man owe others so much? What had he purchased on credit?

Taylor inadvertently answered his question. “He won't quit gambling,” she predicted.

“Your grandmother was well aware of his vice. She decided to give him one last fresh start. If he chooses to run his credit up again, he'll have to find another method to repay. His mother's estate won't bail him out.”

“Oh, he'll find another way,” Taylor whispered. “Uncle can be very creative.”

“Now, now, don't borrow trouble,” Summers advised.

Taylor's shoulders slumped. “I know what you're thinking, my dear,” said Sherman. “He won't last a month without trying to beg or borrow from you.” He turned to Summers then to give further explanation. “Malcolm's a man of excesses. He won't take this sitting down.”

“He'll come after me.”

She looked at Lucas when she made the statement. He appeared to be half asleep. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, his hands rested on the side arms, and his eyes were half closed.

“It won't matter,” Summers insisted. “Even if you wanted to give him some of the inheritance, you can't. Your grandmother was very specific. What you don't spend will stay in trust for your children.”

“And if I die?” Taylor asked.

Lucas took exception to the question. “You aren't going to die.”

“But if I did?” She directed her question to Harry Sherman.

“Malcolm still won't get the money. Your husband is the only one who stands to gain.” He paused to smile. “From the emphatic way he just spoke to you, I can only surmise he'll do whatever it takes to make certain you live a long, healthy life. Stop this talk about dying, Taylor. Malcolm can't hurt you. You don't have to be afraid of him any longer. I, too, remember what you were like as a little girl. You were certainly frightened of your uncle. But you're all grown up now and married. Put your childhood fears to rest. England, remember, is an ocean away.”

“Yes, you're right.” She feigned a smile so he'd believe he'd swayed her with his argument to let go of her worry.

They finally got down to the business at hand. Taylor signed the necessary papers, and when the forms had been witnessed and executed, she opened two accounts. One was a joint account in her name and Mr. Ross's, which required both their signatures, and the other account was in Victoria's name.

Mr. Sherman agreed to bring the necessary papers over to the hotel at four o'clock to meet with Victoria and gain her signature. “You've been extremely generous with your friend,” he remarked as Taylor was getting ready to leave. She was in the midst of putting her gloves on. Lucas held her coast.

“Madam would approve,” she replied.

A few minutes later they were on their way back to their hotel. Taylor wanted to walk. Lucas told her he didn't have time. He wouldn't let her stroll down the street by herself either but insisted she ride with him back to the hotel. He hailed a vehicle, assisted her inside, and then took the seat across from her.

He didn't ease into the topic he wanted to discuss. “Why are you afraid of your uncle?”

She didn't soften her answer. “He's a snake.”

“And?”

“I hate snakes.”

He smiled in spite of his frustration. The woman had a way with words and an even better way of avoiding direct answers. She would make him crazy if he stayed around long enough to let her.

“When are you leaving Boston?”

He wasn't going anywhere until he was certain she was going to be all right. God only knew when that would be. He was anxious to get going, yet the thought of leaving her made his stomach turn. The truth was staring him in the eyes. He didn't want to go anywhere without her.

He immediately tried to block the notion. He wasn't ready to accept what part of him was insisting was inevitable. He blanched inside and might have even shuddered. No, he wasn't ready to think about anything remotely permanent.