The Paradise Will (2 page)
Sir Giles had already stripped off his driving coat and gloves and, as his fingers clung briefly to hers, Alyssa felt a shiver of intangible emotion. He was
unarguably
an imposing figure: his angular features were strongly drawn, if not conventionally handsome; his broad shoulders and deep chest were the result of excellent physique rather than strategically placed padding; his breeches could not hide the well-defined muscles of his thighs and his swarthy complexion was in marked contrast to the gelid coolness of his eyes. His physical presence was particularly daunting; Alyssa was of average height but she was forced to tilt her head to look into his face and the dusty office seemed half its previous size since he had entered.
When Mr Bartley indicated the second chair, Sir Giles abruptly wrenched his gaze from hers and sat down. Alyssa did likewise but continued to observe him surreptitiously, noting his dress was carelessly elegant with none of the
extravagances
of the dandy set. Modest shirt points, an impeccable neckcloth and only a single fob was worn at his waist but Alyssa recognized the subtle touches of sartorial excellence. His boots, too, were of fine quality, the gleaming sheen on his top boots visible as he stretched one long leg forward.
‘I would be grateful if we can bring this matter to a conclusion quickly, Mr Bartley,’ he began, in a rich deep voice, ‘I have another appointment in an hour and Miss Paradise is no doubt as eager as I am to address the issues in the most efficient manner.’
‘I will do my best, Sir Giles, but there are more than minor details to cover.’
‘Very well. You will be succinct as you are able, I’m sure.’
‘Quite,’ he said, nodding. ‘General Paradise has left Hawkscote to his niece if she fulfills conditions which require your involvement.’
Alyssa watched from under her lashes as Sir Giles gave an involuntary start of surprise. He quickly regained his composure, outwardly at least, only the rigid set of his shoulders indicating tension.
‘So I am not to be offered the option to purchase?’ he asked, after a long pause, a sliver of annoyance in his voice. ‘That is disappointing – I tendered an extremely generous price.’
‘You will be offered first option on its purchase under certain circumstances,’ said Mr Bartley, and proceeded to explain.
Sir Giles did not speak but his countenance grew steadily more incredulous until details of the weekly dinners were reached and he broke his silence.
‘By God, this passes the bounds of belief!’ he exclaimed. ‘What on earth was Tom – General Paradise thinking? It is nonsensical to expect us to agree!’ He turned to Alyssa, his eyes cold and unfriendly. ‘Surely you do not wish for this, Miss Paradise?’
‘Of course not – it is abominable – but I cannot afford to be too proud to consider it!’ she retorted.
‘Can you contest? There must be grounds to overturn such a capricious
document
!’ His glance flickered from Alyssa to the lawyer then back again; Mr Bartley shook his head and maintained a discouraging silence.
With a tiny shrug, Alyssa said, ‘Mr Bartley informs me it will be a waste of money and effort and I have to take his advice. I cannot speak for my cousin Piers – he may choose to although I believe, after consideration, he too will decide not to outlay funds when there is little hope of success.’
There was another pause before Sir Giles said through gritted teeth,
‘Intolerable!’
Suddenly, he thrust back his chair and strode to the window. After studying the scene outside for a few moments, he turned, scanning Alyssa’s features as he said curtly, ‘This places me in a deplorable position. If I do not agree, I shall be thought firstly a fool; secondly, ungentlemanly for refusing to assist you, and finally, when it is discovered Hawkscote has been offered to me at reduced value, I shall be considered a knave for taking advantage of your
situation
!’
‘Why, I am sure you do not care for other people’s opinions, Sir Giles,’ she said, in a dry voice. ‘Pray, do not let such considerations sway your decision.’
He regarded her steadily, eyes blazing but his temper well in check. ‘You are partially correct; I would not care in the least if I am thought a fool, but I balk at being considered ungentlemanly, or guilty of taking pecuniary advantage of a young woman who is, moreover, the niece of a good friend. I have my family name and reputation to consider!’ He stopped and gave her a quizzical look. ‘It is obviously in your interests to meet the terms yet I am surprised you do not show more anger,’ he said, his voice faintly mocking. ‘Perhaps you had prior knowledge of your uncle’s plans?’
She gasped. ‘No, I did not! You suggest I persuaded my uncle to cut my cousin, and perhaps yourself, out of his will. How
dare
you! This has come as a great shock to me and any implication it is otherwise is offensive!’
Sir Giles looked discomfited at the bitter resentment in her voice. He flushed darkly, and executed a small bow. His reply, when it came, was rueful, his tone softer. ‘Miss Paradise, accept my apologies – what I said a moment ago was unwarranted and maladroit.’
‘Miss Paradise knew nothing of her uncle’s will,’ interjected Mr Bartley.
Returning to his seat, Giles nodded. ‘I appreciate that now.’
Alyssa regarded him coolly. ‘I had not seen my uncle for some time but you were his neighbour for eighteen months. You knew him well, so answer me this: have you any notion why he added these conditions?’
‘None.’ His lips compressed tightly before he added, ‘And if you think I coerced the general, you are mistaken.’
‘I merely wondered if my uncle mentioned anything.’
‘Not regarding his will. We talked mostly of estate business and various local issues – he seemed to value my advice. On occasion, he spoke of his military career and his family – your father and yourself he described with affection, but he spoke less warmly of his nephew. He did not confide his reasons to me. However, we are now at this point. It is obvious why it is advantageous for you, but there is nothing to induce
me
to agree!’ He shrugged. ‘Why should I be part of this, other than to protect my reputation as an honourable man? The
difficulties
concomitant with meeting the terms might be worth some damage to my good name.’
Alyssa threw him a baleful glance but, before she could speak, he continued, ‘It is true I wanted Hawkscote for a fair price, but not only for the property or the land – I have land enough of my own and other means of increasing my acreage if I choose. No, Hawkscote has another attribute that interests me and the general knew I was prepared to purchase the whole estate to acquire it.’
‘Ah,’ observed Mr Bartley, ‘that must be the item in the additional clause – I have not yet had the opportunity to tell you of it, Sir Giles.’ He shuffled the papers on his desk until he found what he was looking for then read from the document. ‘If you meet the terms, General Paradise stipulated that even if his niece retains Hawkscote, you are to receive the deeds to the land between Winterborn Wood and the River Frome, thus giving you the associated water rights in perpetuity.’
‘You old devil, Tom!’ muttered Sir Giles, amusement flashing over his features.
‘I presume this alters your view?’ she asked, rather too sweetly.
He gave her a brooding look. ‘Now I have reason to meet the terms, but it does not make the prospect more palatable.’
‘I find it equally undesirable. Not only does this will place me in conflict with my cousin, my life will be ruled in a particular way for six months which is
anathema
to me.’
‘That I can well believe,’ he murmured, studying her with new respect.
Alyssa, mistaking Sir Giles’s grudging compliment for sarcasm, avowed angrily, ‘I want Hawkscote but not simply for wealth’s sake! When he was alive, my uncle had my admiration and regard – I shall therefore do my best to adhere to his final wishes. However, I cannot force you to do the same. Perhaps
spending
time alone with me is too awful to countenance, even for the valuable water rights you seek?’ She wondered in amazement why some inner demon was urging her to provoke him.
‘Oh, I would find no fault with the
food;
General Paradise has an excellent cook,’ he retorted, eyes hard as agate. ‘As for the company, I have sufficient
fortitude
to survive the experience! And I can choose not to linger over dinner—’
Mr Bartley, who had thought it wiser to remain out of these exchanges until now, interjected quickly, ‘Dinner must last at least one hour. A clerk from the solicitor’s office in Dorchester will attend and act as an independent adjudicator. However, General Paradise was anxious you both understood this was not because he mistrusted you; it is simply a mechanism to meet the legal
requirements
. There is no stipulation as to where your meetings take place – the general left that to be decided between yourselves.’
Sir Giles was not mollified by this and snapped ironically, ‘At least there is one thing I have control over.’
‘I am sorry you find the notion of my company so
distasteful,
sir!’ cried Alyssa.
An uncomfortable silence fell. The atmosphere was heavy with the antipathy that lay between the two protagonists. Sir Giles’s expression was unreadable; Mr Bartley’s apprehensive gaze flicked from one to the other; Alyssa flushed and bit her lip. She was annoyed at herself for provoking him and yet unreasonably angry and indignant he had replied in the same vein. Really, the man was too vexing! He was brusque, humourless and full of self-importance!
Mr Bartley coughed diplomatically. ‘Dear me! Well, well – that is … this is not helpful. May I suggest we decide the fundamental issue? Miss Paradise, are you prepared to meet the conditions?’
‘Yes.’ Any doubts Alyssa previously entertained had been swept away. She wanted Hawkscote, but had now determined to be a thorn in Sir Giles’s flesh too.
‘Excellent,’ said Mr Bartley, relieved to be making progress. ‘Now, I ask the same question of you, Sir Giles: are you willing to meet these terms?’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘In spite of what you may think, Miss Paradise, I liked and respected your uncle. He was a good friend and has been kind enough to offer me, albeit through strange means, access to the water rights and for that I am grateful. Let us hope we can rub along tolerably well until we both have what we desire. Of course, I state now for the record, if you decide to sell, I am willing to purchase the estate at full market price, notwithstanding my acquiring access to the water.’
Alyssa merely inclined her head to acknowledge his offer and his words regarding her uncle. ‘Are there any other details I should be aware of, Mr Bartley?’ she enquired.
‘Only that General Paradise retained his staff in anticipation you would accept.’ He tapped the documents with one finger. ‘His long-serving staff and tenants have been left small gifts; I’ll not trouble you with the details but will organize these, if you are in agreement?’
She nodded. ‘I presume I may take my ward with me to Hawkscote?’ Alyssa saw Sir Giles raise his brows, but he offered no comment.
‘Of course – indeed, it would be best if you had company – but remember there must be no one else present when you dine with Sir Giles.’
‘How could I forget?’ she said, with heavy irony. ‘Charles will find the
situation
difficult but that cannot be helped.’
‘Charles?’ queried Mr Bartley.
‘Charles Brook, we are – er – betrothed,’ This was not strictly correct: Charles was still waiting for her answer to his marriage proposal but Alyssa could hardly explain that now.
‘Ah, I see,’ he replied, pleased to have this detail clarified.
Sir Giles gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘It will be equally difficult to
reconcile
Miss Caroline Nash to these arrangements,’ he said. ‘You have my word as a gentleman I will keep to the terms, Mr Bartley.’
‘I do not doubt it,’ replied the lawyer, with a warm smile. He then expatiated again on the main points until he concluded, ‘I think I have covered everything. Have either of you further questions?’
‘None,’ said Alyssa.
‘No, you have made everything perfectly clear.’ Sir Giles rose to take his leave, bowing punctiliously before shaking the lawyer’s hand and adding, ‘I expect to hear from you again in due course.’ Collecting his gloves, hat and driving coat, he glanced at Alyssa. ‘Miss Paradise, I look forward to welcoming you to Dorset. When do you begin your tenancy?’
‘Shortly after Easter, when I have made the necessary arrangements.’
‘Then I will call after your arrival.’ With that, he bowed once more and left.
Mr Bartley, observing Alyssa’s expression and heightened colour, said, ‘Do not think too badly of Sir Giles, my dear. He is considered a kind, if brusque, man, and the general’s will shocked him also.’
‘Sir Giles may possess admirable qualities but he is the rudest man I have ever met!’ she replied. ‘And now I am obliged to endure his company for six months.’
Three days later, in Dorset, Caroline Nash and her mother were taking tea with Sir Giles. Caroline regarded him with resentment over the rim of her teacup as they sat in the morning-room of Eastcombe House. Giles had been provokingly reticent since his return from London so she had travelled to his estate this
morning
to discover the details of the will for herself. Having heard them, Caroline expressed her contempt roundly.
‘The most vexatious thing I ever heard! General Paradise must have been mad!’ was her curt observation. ‘Don’t you agree, Mama?’
‘Of course, my dear – quite mad,’ said Mrs Nash, nodding; it was her
invariable
habit to agree with her daughter.
‘What do you think, Giles?’
‘Oh, Tom possessed all his wits,’ he replied with a smile, ‘but I admit his will
is
unusual and I cannot see why he chose this route.’
‘But this passes what might be considered merely eccentric,’ she complained. ‘To every person of sense, it is a preposterous document.’
‘Tom always was a mischievous rogue.’
‘Yes, and I did not like him,’ said Caroline, bluntly.
Gil’s smile died away and his brows rose.
‘Indeed?’ he said, in a clipped voice. ‘Have you grounds for this opinion? You never mentioned your dislike before.’
‘One has to be polite to one’s neighbours, naturally, but I thought he looked at me in a disparaging way. And he had too much levity.’ She sniffed
disapprovingly
. ‘A general should have had more decorum than to laugh when Mrs Cumbernatch lost her hat after Sunday service. The wind took it into a puddle and it was quite ruined, yet all General Paradise could do was snigger.’
‘It was a large hat,’ observed her mother, recalling the ornate confection that Mrs Cumbernatch had worn to impress her fellow churchgoers, ‘and one I thought very handsome, but she should have used more hat pins.’
‘She should have had more sense than wear that cornucopia of ribbon, fruit and flowers on a windy day,’ retorted Gil in disgust. ‘Mrs Cumbernatch was
well-served
for her vanity and I understand why Tom found the incident amusing,’ he continued, adding defiantly, ‘I did too.’
‘But you did not demean yourself by laughing as the general did; it was most unseemly.’
‘Most unseemly,’ echoed Mrs Nash.
‘Are you never tempted to behave in an
unseemly
manner, Caroline?’ he asked, giving her an odd look.
She gave a trill of incredulous laughter. ‘Never!’
‘I thought not.’
‘Caroline always behaves with propriety, Sir Giles,’ commented Mrs Nash.
‘I would not dine alone with a strange gentleman,’ declared her daughter virtuously. ‘Surely you will not accede to these ridiculous dinner engagements, Giles?’
He shrugged. ‘I must. It was Tom’s wish and I have given my word; this way, at least I obtain the water rights. And society would think me a poor sort of gentleman if I took pecuniary advantage of Miss Paradise.’
‘But is there
no
way it can be avoided?’
‘None. As you might expect, I explored the possibility with the lawyer as I considered the idea insupportable when I first heard it.’
‘I’m sure you did. Miss Paradise, on the other hand, must be brazen to agree without demur.’
‘The very same thing occurred to me, my dear,’ agreed her mother, with relish.
‘You are mistaken,’ he said sharply, ‘she found the clause equally provoking, and certainly is not brazen.’
‘Then what sort of person is she?’
‘I found her to be …’ he hesitated and, after a thoughtful pause, added, ‘not at all what I expected.’
‘Pray, do not be obtuse,’ urged Mrs Nash, putting her cup down on her saucer and leaning forward eagerly. ‘What do you mean?’
A slight smile touched his lips. ‘Oh, simply that I expected a shy miss but was confronted by a self-possessed young woman who did not mince her words. Of course, it was extremely awkward; I disliked being in a situation over which I had no control and Miss Paradise was similarly annoyed. I’m afraid I engaged in verbal sparring with the general’s niece.’ His smile widened as he recalled their exchanges. ‘She has something of his lively nature, I believe.’
‘She sounds unbecomingly forward,’ protested Caroline. ‘How impertinent to argue with a gentleman one has only just met.’
‘Highly improper,’ said Mrs Nash.
‘Some of her comments were trenchant but I was guilty of provoking them,’ acknowledged Gil, with a rueful shrug.
‘But to agree to dine with you so readily, and after this … this verbal sparring too,’ exclaimed Caroline. ‘It shows a regrettable boldness.’
‘She had no choice if she wishes to obtain Hawkscote,’ he pointed out
reasonably
.
Fixing him with a basilisk glare, Caroline said witheringly, ‘Really, Giles! Next you will say you admire her spirit!’
‘Perhaps I do, in a way.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ she said, with a tiny supercilious smile. ‘You admire efficiency over spirit in a lady.’
‘Is that your opinion of me?’
‘Of course – otherwise you would not have made your preference for
my
company so clear,’ she said.
In fact, the reverse was true; Caroline had determinedly insinuated herself into his attentions. She was not obliged to marry for money, but had every
intention
of doing so. Love was a vulgar, bourgeois expression in her estimation, but she admired Giles’s sporting and business prowess, thought his lineage beyond reproach, and found his fortune most attractive of all. Despite his business success, in her opinion he exhibited a deplorable lack of ambition in other areas and, once they were married, she intended him to seek a position in government before progressing to a peerage.
This Giles had so far steadfastly refused to contemplate, citing no interest in politics. She was undeterred. Pressure would be brought to bear and he would be forced to reconsider. That they did not enjoy a close relationship troubled her not one iota – indeed, she considered him too well-bred for outpourings of emotion.
Silence had followed her last comment and Caroline willingly filled the breach.
‘Naturally, one must disapprove of this eccentric behaviour,’ she continued. ‘I always suspected the tenor of his mind was unsteady and here we see my
suspicions
vindicated. My judgement is rarely inaccurate.’ She pursed her lips, savouring this moment of self-righteous justification. ‘From what you have said, Giles, Miss Paradise has inherited her uncle’s unfortunate recklessness. Good God, one shudders to think of the damage this will do to her reputation! You may be certain gossip will be rife.’ Replacing her cup, she added, ‘When does she arrive?’
‘After Easter.’
‘Very well – if you are determined, I suppose I must offer my support.’
Gil raised his brows in surprise. Caroline’s high-handed manner and
animadversions
on the general had irked him but she had ultimately given her approval. Contrite at misjudging her, he said quietly, ‘Thank you. To hear I have your
confidence
means a great deal. It must be difficult for you to accept I am to dine with Miss Paradise.’
‘It is not a question of having confidence in you, nor am I jealous,’ she said, coldly. ‘How could you think I might be? No, this must be viewed merely as a business proposition and you must obtain either the option to purchase or, at the very least, the water rights. Both would be important acquisitions for the
expansion
of our – that is,
your
estate.’
‘Caroline is right, Sir Giles,’ said Mrs Nash, ‘you must do what is right
financially
.’
Her daughter gave a thin smile. ‘Giles always does, Mama. He is not a man to be swayed by other issues.’
Gil listened with deepening anger. Caroline was not, as he had originally surmised, offering her support in difficult circumstances, nor had she admitted to jealousy; financial gain was her only concern. He recognized his anger was
somewhat
irrational – it was, after all, primarily for gain he had agreed – but part of his soul also wanted to comply with his friend’s final wishes and for Caroline to be so coldly analytical was disconcerting. Surely moral support was worth more than a few pounds on a balance sheet? It appeared it was not and he wondered ironically at her reaction had he lost the opportunity of acquiring Hawkscote or the water rights. Regarding her self-satisfied expression, he knew the answer: she would have been furious. Suddenly, Gil felt deflated and irascible. His brows snapped together; impatience flickered in his gaze.
‘I believe you mean that to be a compliment, Caroline,’ he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
‘Of course. You are the most prominent businessman in the area; everyone expects you to be single-minded in pursuit of your interests.’
‘Not at the expense of moral considerations, I hope?’
She did not respond directly; instead, observing, ‘People look to you for
guidance
and you must act accordingly, even if the outcome is sometimes
unpleasant
.’
‘But never sacrificing, for example, fairness, trust or loyalty?
Noblesse oblige
– surely that must be
your
view, knowing your sense of rectitude?’ he pressed, still in an ironic tone.
‘I suppose so, although one cannot expect uneducated people to have
opinions
on the matter,’ she said, grudgingly.
Mrs Nash uttered an appreciative titter. ‘Very true, my dear.’
Gil stared. There was a long silence before he said tersely, ‘In my experience, ignorance through lack of education is no bar to understanding right from wrong. Even the simplest creature understands that principle.’
Caroline’s reply was to smile sweetly and say she looked forward to him dining with them the following day. Gil, finding himself completely out of
charity
with her, was not sorry to see Caroline and her mother depart a short time later.
He studied the neat, rolling landscape through the window afterwards with an unseeing gaze and wondered what was wrong with him. He had come to believe Caroline was the sort of wife he needed: calm, ordered, and efficient. Gil was unsure exactly how or when he reached this decision. It had occurred by some sort of osmosis because Caroline was always
there
and, eventually, it seemed the inevitable outcome. He felt no deep passion or love, but whether this was Caroline’s fault or his own, he did not know; she was not a woman to indulge in displays of affection and he … well, he wondered if he was capable of the passionate relationship enjoyed by others, including his own sister and her husband.
He had never fallen in love and believed, at two and thirty, he was past doing so. He had desired women in the past and experienced pleasant flirtations, but the deepest part of his being had never been engaged. Perhaps this was simply not a facet of his character and the thought he was not destined for a marriage with love, humour, and desire at its core saddened him.
So if such a marriage was unattainable, he should settle for what he
could
achieve. And yet, although he knew Caroline expected him to offer for her, thus far he could not bring himself to utter the words. He found her coldness
annoying
of late and since his trip to London, he felt even more dissatisfaction. Gil blamed the bizarre details of the will for this and hoped his discontent was temporary. It had to be. He must put his mind to business and, when things were more settled, offer Caroline marriage.
Meanwhile, he needed to prevent a pair of blue eyes, brimful of amusement and disdain, from continually intruding upon his thoughts.
Unlike his cousin, Piers Kilworth had eagerly anticipated the reading of the will. He waited to be summoned in the weeks following his uncle’s death until one of his creditors – a fellow more pressing and unpleasant than the rest – forced him to decamp hurriedly from his lodgings in St James’s. Thinking it wiser to leave no forwarding address, Piers took full advantage of his friends’ hospitality and
rusticated
for a month.
When he returned to find the note from Deathridge, Flyte and Bartley, he cursed his luck at missing the appointment by a single day but was not unduly perturbed; he could wait a little longer for confirmation of his inheritance. The following morning, he shaved and dressed at an unusually early hour with the intention of going to Chancery Lane. However, when a letter was brought in by his servant, Piers smiled with satisfaction. It was obviously a legal missive containing the news he had been waiting for and, placing the unopened letter on the breakfast table, he indulged in some agreeable speculation as to its contents before breaking open the seal. As he read, his smile faded and his colour ebbed away. He scanned the contents again before screwing up the sheet and smashing a china dish into the fireplace with a strangled cry of fury.
His servant, who unwisely opened the door to investigate, encountered his master in a towering rage.
‘Get out!’ he screamed, ‘Get out, damn you!’
The man hastily retreated to leave Piers striding back and forth, grinding his teeth and muttering King Lear-like threats of retribution.
When, eventually, his fury cooled and he had exhausted his vocabulary of curses and expletives, he retrieved the letter. Apart from requesting he call in Chancery Lane at his earliest convenience, the only other details were the amount of his annuity and that his cousin was to receive Hawkscote.
‘Of all the scheming, manipulative, wicked
harpies
!’ he cried.
In his way, he had always been fond of his cousin but now he was staggered by the depths of her deceit. Alyssa must have secretly encouraged Tom to leave Hawkscote to her! Piers tried to collect his thoughts. The letter was dated only yesterday so Alyssa was most likely still in town. He needed to speak to her; he would get more information from his cousin than from a crusty old attorney stuffed full of jurisprudence. Recalling where she stayed on her infrequent visits to London, he collected his hat and left his lodgings for Flemings Hotel in Half Moon Street.
