Mask of Duplicity (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

four years ago. It didn’t work out very well.” Her brow furrowed as she remembered sitting stiffly on the edge of her seat in a hideously uncomfortable formal gown. The conversation had dried up after ten minutes, becoming increasingly stilted, and she had sat politely, listening to the pendulum of the drawing-room clock tick away the silent minutes until they could leave. They had not returned, nor had they been invited to while her father was alive. “Cousin Isabella came to Father’s funeral,” Beth added. “She apologised for Lord Edward, who was out of the country, it seems. Anyway, she said I could go to visit them any time I wanted.”
    “And did you?” Richard asked.
    “No. I never wanted to. I have nothing in common with them, Richard. I enjoy the simple country life.”
    “Nonsense.” The imperious tone returned. “We will write to them at once and tell them we would be delighted to call. Of course we must make the necessary repairs to the house so that we can return the invitation.”
    “Do you have the money?” she asked.
    Richard looked perplexed. “Surely there is money in the accounts?” he said. “Father had a lot of investments.”
    “That was thirteen years ago, Richard,” Beth pointed out patiently. “As I told you earlier, after Mother died, Father became ill and didn’t have the energy to manage his investments properly. We’re only just making ends meet. There is a little in Father’s bank account, but only you can access that. Otherwise he owned the house and all the furniture outright. He left no debt, but he left no great amount of money either.”
    Richard clearly did not believe her.
    “I haven’t been able to pay the servants since he died three months ago, Richard. That’s why I allowed them all to go to Manchester today, as a reward for their loyalty. We certainly can’t afford to entertain.”
    “But I thought...he left such a generous dowry for you... surely he wouldn’t have done that unless he had plenty of money?”
    “The will was made ten years ago, when he did have enough money to leave me such a dowry. He never got round to changing it.” She didn’t add that if he had changed it recently, he would most certainly not have left his whole estate to a son who had persistently failed to contact his family. As it was, she was now fully dependent financially on a brother with whom she was already suspecting she would not get on. However, she would try. They had got off on the wrong foot, and she had to admit that was partly her fault. She had forgotten that he had no sense of humour.
    “Anyway,” she said. “The fact is that we are left in the position where the only decent sum of money available to us cannot be touched unless I marry, and even then it will go to my husband, not me, so it’s pretty useless really.”
    Richard looked like a child who’d just been allowed into the toyshop after years of standing outside, only to find the shelves bare.
    “It’s not that bad,” she continued cheerfully. “You have your career, after all. If you employ someone to look after the investments, or even better, someone who can teach me how to do it, I’ll be quite happy where I am. I can keep the house ready for whenever you want to come home, and I don’t need much to live on, so I’m sure there will be sufficient extra income from the investment interest for you to enjoy some luxuries. I’m not interested in clothes and jewellery, so you don’t need to be worried that I’ll fritter your money away if you entrust me with the charge of it. The only luxury I allow myself is books.”
    This was supposed to be reassuring, Richard realised that. He decided to accept the olive branch his sister was offering, as a delaying tactic. He was a plodder by nature, not liking to make speedy decisions, preferring to weigh up all the possibilities before deciding on a course of action that would be to his advantage. Where possible he would delegate responsibility to