Page 100 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

‘I really had no choice,’ Giles said. ‘I could not leave them destitute.’

‘I knew nothing of all this,’ said Cordwell.

Mr Fossey spoke up. ‘Naturally, at the time there was no thought that it would be necessary to inform you of how matters stood.’

Cordwell looked at Giles. ‘I did not mean any criticism. I see that you did the best you could in the circumstances.’ It sounded less than generous to Giles, but he hoped it was just Cordwell’s manner. ‘Holme Manor was sold?’

‘The house and what little land was left. The rest of the land had already been sold over the years. The finances had been suffering for a long time.’

‘I see.’

‘Were you acquainted with my brother-in-law?’ Giles asked, hoping to get a little more out of him.

‘Not at all,’ said Cordwell. ‘My grandfather was his grandfather’s cousin, so Heaven knows what relation that made me. Third cousin, possibly? Something very remote, anyway. My father told me when I was a child that we had a distant relation who was a lord, but naturally we never thought anything of it. We never met any of them. I made my own way in the world. My father was a solicitor before me, but it was a small country practice when I joined it. I’m the one who built it up to what it is today.’ He frowned. ‘I’m not sure I care for being “Viscount Cordwell”. I don’t know how it will affect my business. I don’t want people to think I’m getting above myself.’

‘There is no necessity for you to use the title if you don’t want to, but I don’t imagine it will do you any harm with your clients,’ said Fossey. ‘You might even win one or two new ones.’

‘And your wife may enjoy being Lady Cordwell,’ Giles added. ‘Ladies generally set more store by that sort of thing.’

‘Oh, I’m not married,’ Cordwell said bluntly. ‘I’ve never had time – too busy building up the business.’

That, Giles thought, might explain a certain roughness-around-the-edges. ‘Well, there’s plenty of time,’ he said, smiling.

Cordwell only looked at him blankly.

Fossey cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps I may go through the formalities with you, my lord, for the transfer of the title, show you the coat of arms and mention the benefits and duties associated with it?’

When that was done, Giles insisted on Fossey showing him the accounts concerning the winding-up of the estate. He listened to and looked at everything in silence, not even responding to Fossey’s courteous interjections of ‘As a man of the law you will know, of course . . .’

They had come to a natural pause when the dressing bell was rung downstairs. ‘We must go up and change,’ Giles said. ‘Thank you, Mr Fossey, for explaining everything so clearly.’

Fossey bowed, and said to Cordwell, ‘I hope you feel you are in possession of all the necessary information now, my lord. Is there anything further you wish to ask me?’

‘No,’ said Cordwell. ‘There’s not much to it.’ As Fossey was gathering together his papers, Giles walked with Cordwell to the library door; and the viscount said suddenly, ‘There were two children, weren’t there? A girl as well? What happened to her?’

‘She’s living here, at Ashmore Castle. Arabella. She’s ten years old.’

Cordwell gave him a cautious look. ‘What happens to her now?’

‘Um – nothing in particular. She’ll remain here.’ He wasn’t sure what was being asked. ‘We have a governess for her.’

‘As long as I won’t be expected to take her on, along with the title,’ Cordwell said.

Giles felt a little offended. ‘She’s my sister’s child,’ he said. ‘Of course I will take care of her.’

Cordwell gave a curt nod of satisfaction. ‘As long as that’s understood.’

Sam was hovering near Giles’s bedroom door. ‘My lord,’ he said, in an urgent undertone, his eyes frantic with appeal, ‘Lord Cordwell doesn’t have any blacks with him, nor a silk hat, and I don’t know what to do.’

When Giles had come back for his father’s funeral, he hadn’t owned a mourning suit either, and Crooks had taken in a coat of his father’s and stuffed the lining of one of the late earl’s hats for him. But the case now was rather different. He didn’t feel they owed anything in particular to the new Lord Cordwell.

‘I don’t see that you can do anything,’ Giles said. ‘He knew he was coming to a funeral, and if he didn’t care to bring the appropriate clothing, he must go as he is.’

Sam bit his lips in anxiety. ‘In a lounge suit, my lord? And a soft hat!’

‘You’ll put a black band around it – you can do that, can’t you? And a black band on his sleeve.’

‘Um – yes, my lord, I think I can manage that.’