Scandal's Bride by Stephanie Laurens

up the will. He drew breath, then looked
up, peering over his pince-nez. "This is a most irregular will, so I feel
no compunction in breaking with tradition and stating that I and all others in
my firm argued most strongly against these provisions, but Mr. McEnery would
not be moved. As it stands, the will is legal and, in our opinion,
uncontestable by law."
    With that, he looked down at the parchment. " 'These next words
are addressed to my ward, Catriona Mary Hennessy. Regardless of what she might
think, it was my duty to see to her future. As in life I was not strong enough
to influence her, so in death I am putting her in the way of one who, if half
the tales told of him and his clan are true, possesses the requisite talents to
deal with her.' "
    There followed a detailed description of how the estate was to be
divided between Seamus's children in the event Richard agreed to marry
Catriona, to which no one listened. The family and Catriona were too busy
decrying Seamus's perfidy; Richard was too absorbed in noting that not one of
them imagined any other outcome than that the estate would pass to the Church.
    By the time the solicitor had reached the end of the will, despair,
utter and complete, had taken possession of the McEnerys. Jamie, swallowing his
bitter disappointment, rose to shake the solicitor's hand and thank him. Then
he turned away to comfort Mary, distraught and weeping.
    "It's iniquitous," she sobbed. "Not even the barest
living! And what about the children?"
    "Hush, shussh." Jamie tried to soothe her, his expression one
of abject defeat.
    "He was mad." Malcolm spat the words out. "He's cheated
us of everything we'd a right to expect."
    Meg and Cordelia were sobbing, their meek spouses incoherent.
    Sitting quietly in his chair, untouched by the emotion sweeping his
hosts, Richard watched, and listened, and considered. Considered the fact that
not one of the company expected him to save them.
    Considered Catriona, sleek and slender in deep blue, her hair burning
even more brightly in the dull and somber room. She was comforting Meg,
counseling her away from hysteria, exuding calm in an almost visible stream.
Straining his ears, he listened to her words.
    "There's nothing to be done, so there's no sense in working
yourself into a state and having a miscarriage. You know as well as anyone I
didn't get along with Seamus, but I would never have believed him capable of
this. I'm as deeply shocked as you." She continued talking quickly,
filling Meg's ears, forcing the woman to listen to her and not descend into
excessive tears. "The solicitor says it's a
fait accompli
, so
other than calling down curses on Seamus's dead head, there's no use in having
the vapors now. We must all get together and see what can be done, what can be
salvaged."
    She continued, moving the direction of her thoughts, and Meg's and
Cordelia's and their husbands', into a more positive vein. But that vein
followed the line of what to do to cope with this unexpected shock; at no point
did she, or anyone, not even Jamie or Mary when they joined the group, allude
to any alternative.
    Not once did Catriona glance his way; it was almost as if she'd
dismissed him from her mind, forgotten his existence. As if they'd all
forgotten him—the dark predator, the interloper, the Cynster in their midst. No
one thought to appeal to him.
    To them all, not only Catriona, the outcome was a
fait accompli
.
They didn't even bother to ask for his decision, his answer to Seamus's challenge.
    But then, they were the weak and helpless; he was something else again.
    "Ah-hem."
    Richard glanced up to see the solicitor, his papers packed, peering at
him. His exclamation startled the others to silence.
    "If I could have your formal decision, Mr. Cynster, so that we can
start finalizing the estate?"
    Richard raised his brows. "I have one week to decide, I
believe?"'
    The solicitor blinked, then straightened. "Indeed." He shot a
glance at Catriona. "Seven full days is