One Night With You (The Derrings #3)(54)

He motioned across from him.

She followed the gesture and noticed the room's other inhabitant, immediately recognizing Mr. Younger, the Guthrie family solicitor. A sour taste filled her mouth, and she gave him a grim nod. He had always treated her as though she possessed half a brain. Fortunately, she had not seen him since Marcus's funeral.

Rising to his feet, the reed-thin gentleman bowed. "Lady Guth—" he stopped and corrected himself, "Lady St. Claire."

"Mr. Younger." She smiled tightly and took the chair beside his. "A pleasure to see you again," she lied.

"Jane, Mr. Younger has some startling news."

"Indeed?" She looked to Mr. Younger.

"Yes, it seems I owe you an apology, my lady."

She cocked her head to the side. "Whatever for?"

The solicitor's Adam's apple bobbed wildly. "It appears I should have monitored your brother-inlaw's supervision of your jointure—"

"My jointure?" she interrupted. Her gaze flicked to Seth. "Marcus left me no jointure." Mr. Younger pulled at his starched collar as if it choked him. "In fact, the late Lord Guthrie did." Marcus left her a jointure? She considered this news, accepting it as a possibility. It was what most gentlemen did, and Marcus had been the consummate gentleman, infidelities withstanding.

"Mr. Billings convinced us that you were too grief-stricken over Lord Guthrie's sudden death to attend to your affairs." Releasing his collar, he gave a small shrug of his slight shoulders, his gaunt cheeks flushing. "Given the circumstances of your late husband's passing, I deemed that very likely."

"Could you not have asked me?" she bit out, her hands clenching the arms of her chair. He reddened further at her simple question. "I found it quite credible that you lacked the proper frame of mind to oversee proceedings usually left to the domain of men. Mr. Billings and I decided he was best suited to manage your affairs." He looked to Seth as though expecting agreement.

Suddenly it all made sense. Desmond had worked so hard to keep her beneath his thumb in order to maintain control of her jointure. Her cheeks burned, indignation firing her as she focused her wrath on the hapless solicitor. "Well, which is it, Mr. Younger? Was I too grief-stricken or too feeble-minded to be versed in my affairs?" She fisted her skirts to stop from swinging at the arrogant popinjay.

Her own jointure would have altered everything. Granted her the means to be independent. Perhaps she would not have risked attending Madame Fleur's masquerade, so desperate for a night of freedom. Perhaps she would not have seduced Seth at Vauxhall. Would not now find herself married—once again—to a man who cared nothing for her.

Nor would she carry his child. Her hand drifted to her stomach and her anger dissipated like a ring of smoke in the air. As simple as that her wrath vanished.

Mr. Younger inclined his head in a show of remorse. "My deepest apologies, my lady. It was not well done of me."

Seth's voice broke in, "I would like my wife's funds transferred at once."

"That, my lord, is the issue that brings me here today," the solicitor murmured in a near whisper, his eyes downcast. "Upon learning of Lady Guthrie's marriage, I set myself to that precise task. And yet…" He pulled on his collar again.

"Spit it out, Younger," Seth demanded.

"There is nothing left," he choked. "Mr. Billings has gone through all of it."

"Gone through all of it?" Seth echoed, dark brows dipping in a frown. Jane shook her head. A bitter laugh bubbling up from deep in her chest. "Of course." The irony galled her. Desmond had convinced the solicitors she was incompetent to oversee her affairs, and then he proceeded to squander her money.

"We greatly misjudged Mr. Billings, my lord. He is quite the swindler," Mr. Younger rushed to say. "I've visited him and he claimed that your wife's portion was spent on her upkeep."

"Indeed," she inserted hotly, thinking of all she had gone without since Marcus's death. She had not shopped, traveled, or done the usual things that a lady of the ton might do. Younger continued, his nasal voice grating her nerves, "Seeing as there is no way to prove or disprove this claim—"

"Nothing can be done," Seth finished, the edge to his voice sharp as cut glass. Jane watched as he unfolded his great length from behind the desk.

Mr. Younger shrank back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath him.

"You may take your leave, Younger. And thank you. It's of use to know one solicitor whom I shall never entrust my affairs. I shall be sure that all of Town knows as well." Mr. Younger's mouth fell slack and his eyes bulged. Leaning forward, he raised a hand in supplication. "L-Lord St. Claire, you cannot mean to spread tales—"

"Of your incompetence? Indeed, I do. Good day, sir. I'm certain you remember the way out." His face pale as chalk, Mr. Younger gave a reluctant nod before rising and departing the room. Jane stared after the solicitor for a moment before murmuring with a shake of her head, "I'm sorry, Seth. It seems I should not have come empty-handed into this marriage."

"I never expected money when I married you."

"Just the same, anything Marcus left me should have gone to the man I married—"

"Don't apologize. Your jointure would have been yours to do with as you wished. I wouldn't have touched a penny of it."