A Rival Heir Read Online Free Page A

shall quiz her, in a most subtle and delicate way, until I have gathered all the information you require, my dear.”
    “Subtle? Delicate? These are words I never expected to hear fall from your lips, my fantastical sister. I trust you will do no such thing. The poor girl is in need of someone to befriend her, not an avenging inquisitor.”
    “I can see no reason to befriend her when she’s attempting to do you out of your inheritance!”
    Sir Hugh grimaced. “My dear Emily, anyone who has managed to suffer with Miss Longstreet for ten years is deserving of everything she may lay claim to. I don’t say that the girl has any intention of becoming Miss Longstreet’s heir, just that I would not be at all surprised if she were. It would delight my godmother to have sufficient reason—in her own mind—to disinherit me. My being a grown man was perhaps not quite as adequate an excuse as she would have liked.”
    “Miserable old sourpuss! Well, I am not a man, and Walter is but an infant, so we shall introduce ourselves into their household and learn the whole. See if we don’t!”
    “You terrify me,” he objected, but with an amused shake of his head. “Still, I suppose it could do no harm if you were to make a morning call, Emily. I very much fear that Miss Longstreet intends to keep her companion pretty closely tied to her. You would be doing a good deed to rescue the girl from my godmother for an hour or two.”
    Emily nodded conspiratorily. “You’re right. She’s much more likely to let her tongue wag if she’s not in the presence of that old ogre. Trust me, Hugh.”
    “God help us,” he sighed, and turned the subject.
    * * * *
    It was Aunt Longstreet’s habit to get to the Pump Room early. Mostly, Nell believed, because she wished to see as few people as possible. Her aunt drank the required two glasses of water with little sign of enjoyment, and then usually urged her companion away as quickly as possible.
    The day after their disastrous trip to the library, Aunt Longstreet professed an interest in the Abbey Churchyard which aroused Nell’s suspicions. Aunt Longstreet was not, despite her avowed interest in tradition, much given to scouting out churches and abbeys.
    While they awaited a break in the constant stream of carriages and carts, they were approached by a young man who looked vaguely familiar to Nell. He tipped his curly beaver hat to them and offered to see them safely across the road.
    “Do you take us for a pair of ninnyhammers, sir?” Aunt Longstreet demanded.
    “Not at all, ma’am,” he assured her, the color rising in his cheeks. “But I believe you may be visitors to Bath and unfamiliar with such heavy traffic as we are accustomed to from the Oxford and London roads. Perhaps I might be of some use in escorting you across.”
    “I cannot see how,” Aunt Longstreet grumbled. “Unless, of course, you was willing to rush out in front of a carriage and be run over. That would probably stop ‘em.”
    “Aunt!” Nell protested. Turning to the young man, she said, “Thank you, sir. We had best simply wait for a break in the traffic, I think.”
    He smiled at her, and bowed, and went on his way.
    Only then did Nell realize that he was the young librarian from the previous day. She sighed in despair at her aunt behaving so badly to him not once now, but twice. Really, it was too bad of her.
    When at length the two women managed to cross the road, Nell was not surprised to find her aunt giving the Abbey Churchyard short shrift. “Very nice, very nice,” the older woman muttered as she plodded past the magnificent stone edifice with its delightful stained glass windows. With each step Aunt Longstreet poked her cane at the pavement as though she intended to punish if for any difficulties she found in walking. Despite the effort her niece knew it to be, she continued past the Abbey and on to the Orange Grove, pausing only briefly before turning toward the Grand Parade overlooking the