Heiress in Love by Christina Brooke

never cover a debt that large, though. He might be forced to speculation. George would not approve.
    He fixed his gaze on his brother. “I want no more talk of selling Broadmere. I’ll instruct my man to draw up the transfer documents as soon as may be.”
    George banged his fist on the table. “I will not accept your rightful inheritance. Damn it, Constantine! It’s our father all over again. You’re the living spit of him. You can’t see reason, you’re so blinded by pride.”
    Constantine felt George’s words like a stab to the gut. No different from his stiff-rumped, unforgiving father, was he? Ordinarily, he’d laugh and let the jagged edge of such a remark glance off his armor. But this was George, his greatest—his only—ally.
    From the pain, anger erupted, hot and destructive. With a clear, brutal intention to offend, Constantine curled his lip. “Brother, you grow even more tedious than our aunt. Go home to your family, George. Let me go my own way.”
    For a long moment George stood there, his face a study of impotent fury.
    Constantine lifted an eyebrow, as if to say, Well? What are you waiting for?
    With a biting curse, George turned on his heel and strode toward the door. “You can go your own way, all right,” he ground out. “You can go straight to hell!”

 
     
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
    “I don’t see why you’re so upset about coming into an obscenely large fortune,” said Cecily. “If I had control over my inheritance, I should be in ecstasies.”
    Cecily lay on her stomach on Jane’s bed, idly swinging her legs in the air. Rosamund perched in the window seat, an unaccustomed frown in her clear blue eyes.
    Jane couldn’t be still. She wandered restlessly around the room that was not her bedchamber anymore. Much good her inheritance did if she couldn’t use it to barter for Luke.
    “Think of it, Jane,” breathed Cecily. “You are a wealthy widow. If I were you, I’d turn myself into a fashionable eccentric and do exactly as I pleased.”
    “You are a fashionable eccentric,” Jane said. “Anyway, it’s all very well for you. No one turns a hair when you behave outrageously.”
    Rosamund smiled. “Oh, I expect Cecily will do her duty when the time comes. We cannot escape responsibility any more than someone like the duke or Beckenham can. Though I did hope you would have some sort of respite now, Jane. I’m sorry it has come to this.”
    Surprised, Jane darted a glance at her cousin. But Rosamund couldn’t know the extent of Jane’s unhappiness in her marriage. She’d never spoken a word of it to anyone, not even to Rosamund and Cecily.
    Surely her cousin hadn’t guessed? Impossible. Rosamund was far too guileless, too willing to believe there was good in everyone.
    “You should run away,” said Cecily. “And while you’re about it, you should take us with you.”
    Rosamund’s face lit. “Where would we go, if only we could?”
    “Everywhere!” said Cecily. “Paris, Rome, Egypt.” She propped her chin in her hands, dark curls bouncing, eyes bright. “Wouldn’t it be a brilliant adventure?”
    “I should think it would be exceedingly uncomfortable,” said Jane. She bit her lip. “And if it were only the estate, it wouldn’t be so bad. But there’s Luke.” She broke off, biting her lip.
    Rosamund shook her head. “Frederick knew how much you love Luke. How could he do such a thing?”
    “I don’t understand it, either.” Jane gripped her hands together. “Perhaps he made that condition a long time ago and simply never troubled to change it.” She worried at her lip with her teeth. “Or maybe it was more than that. Luke is, after all, a Black, and you know how fiercely proud they are. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Frederick wanted Luke brought up by his own family, regardless of anyone’s feelings in the matter.”
    Least of all Luke’s, she thought bitterly. Frederick had scarcely noticed the boy existed.
    “You don’t mean the scoundrel won’t