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“We must turn to the practical matters, however.” The solicitor’s smile faded, and he frowned faintly. “Your brother-in-law did not wish to attend with you?”

Harriet thought of her brother-in-law: the cold set of his face as he told her she must quit the house within a fortnight of his coming into it. Edward, at least, had seen to it that she was not left wholly at another man’s mercy: a small manor house within an hour of London, and a modest fortune to keep her. It was that fortune that had brought her here, for it had not yet been released, and she had need of it.

“No,” she said. “My brother-in-law is much occupied with estate matters, as he takes up the responsibilities of the earldom.”

“Of course.” Mr. Braithwaite folded his hands upon the desk. “As I wrote to you, Lady Colbourne, there is some difficulty as regards your bequest.”

“My bequest?”

He nodded.

“I do not understand.” She kept her voice even. “My husband left me enough to see to my needs for the rest of my days. That, at least, is what I understood.”

“That is so. Alas” — he spread his hands — “the money comes in two parts. One from your late husband, the smaller portion. The second from the estate of the late Lady Warrington.”

Harriet blinked.

“Your husband was her godson, I believe.”

“Yes.” She said it slowly, feeling her way. “They were close in their connection. I never knew Lady Warrington myself, I am afraid. I was introduced to her once, before I married Lord Colbourne.”

“She appears to have been a most remarkable lady.” The solicitor said it with a warmth that surprised her — as though he knew something of Lady Warrington that Harriet did not, and thought the better of the world for it. “To be plain, Lady Colbourne: what your husband was able to leave you was small. The estate passed under the entail, and there was little ready money besides — the house, and a modest sum. Lady Warrington’s bequest was added to it.”

“Goodness!” One hand went to her heart. “I had no notion she would ever do such a thing for me.”

Again that softening about his mouth, that private warmth. “I believe Lady Warrington was more than generous in her will.” Then the warmth went out of him. “However. It cannot yet be released, I am afraid.”

“For what reason?”

He glanced down at the papers. “There is a statement in the will — a demand, if you will — that must first be fulfilled.”

“And what is it?”

He hesitated. “Lady Warrington’s will requires that her accounts be thoroughly studied by this firm before the money is given over.”

It was an unusual thing to ask, and for a moment Harriet did not know what to say to it. “I — I trust that will bring no particular difficulty?”

Mr. Braithwaite held up both hands, palms out. “No, no. We are more than able to do as is asked. But before we can, there has arisen a further matter.” He cleared his throat. “There are certain things connected to the endowment that must be reviewed before the matter can be concluded.”

Harriet lifted her chin. She had noticed that he was no longer quite meeting her eyes.

“You have not told me what these things are, Mr. Braithwaite. Pray do. I do not lack for intelligence, and I will follow you well enough.”

Color rose in the solicitor’s face. “I am quite sure you will, Lady Colbourne. Forgive me. I did not mean to obscure it.”

“Then do not.”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the documents once more. “We must be certain there has been no mistake. There has been a suggestion—” He stopped, and shook his head, and began again. “You must understand, Lady Colbourne, there has already been considerable upset over Lady Warrington's will. Her bequests are being given over one at a time, as she directed, and to ladies with no connection to one another that anyone has been able to discover. You have been sent for separately, as each of the others was. And with every one of them the talk has grown, until it has become… significant.”

Harriet’s brows lifted, but she held her peace.

“If I may speak plainly,” he said, meeting her eyes at last, and steadily now, “we, as Lady Warrington’s solicitors, wish to be entirely certain we have read and understood her will in every particular. We have done so already, twice. In this matter we intend to do so a third time. We have our own reputation to consider. And so we think it best to make quite sure that nothing whatsoever has been misunderstood.”

He had almost said more; she was certain of it. Some suggestion had been made — and by someone — and whatever it was, it was grave enough to have unsettled a careful man in his own office. Harriet folded her hands tightly in her lap and waited, but he did not go on.

“And how long will this review require?” she asked. “Weeks?” He spread his hands. “Months?”

“I do not anticipate any great delay, Lady Colbourne.” He shifted in his seat, but held her gaze. “We shall do our utmost to see all that is owed to you given over within a few weeks’ time.”