Henry had detested Cupps-Foster as had Marissa. She didn’t mourn him.
Only Reggie, her second husband, had truly loved her, but still, she’d never been first in his heart. Fossils. Ore. Nature. Trees. All took precedence over Marissa. But she’d loved him so much she hadn’t cared. Perhaps it had been her youth which had allowed her to lose herself so completely in Reggie. She’d never contemplate such a thing now.
If Reggie was still alive, would we be happy?
Marissa wasn’t sure.
But nothing changed the fact that Reggie had been murdered by his best friend for a mine full of Blue John. Lydia had sat in her parlor at Brushbriar for years surrounded by her wealth, all of it bought with Reggie’s blood. Marissa knew she couldn’t prove who had murdered Reggie, and even if she could, John had died years ago. But she could take the mine. Simon’s career. Lydia’s beloved Blue John and the wealth it provided.
I am my father’s daughter, after all.
4
Marissa smiled indulgently while Arabella prattled on about Lily, as new mothers infatuated with their children were wont to do. She listened absently, systematically reviewing the list of projects before her, mentally checking off each completed task. Marissa prided herself on excellent organization.
Correspondence had been updated. Invitations accepted. A new butler, Greenhouse, had been hired and installed to run her household, though he was a bit staid for her tastes. She’d remodeled several of the upstairs bedrooms, knocking down a wall to create a large guest suite for Brendan and Petra when they arrived for the holidays.
The pair certainly couldn’t stay with Lord and Lady Marsh. Petra still wasn’t speaking to her parents.
A dozen new ballgowns had been ordered from her favorite modiste along with a gorgeous green velvet riding habit with a matching hat. Marissa adored hats.
She’d helped nurse Spencer, her eldest son, from the wound he’d received in an altercation shortly after marrying Lady Elizabeth Reynolds, the details of which she still wasn’t completely clear on. Elizabeth was a delightful girl who didn’t tolerate any of Spencer’s nonsense. Marissa wholeheartedly approved of her new daughter-in-law.
All her ducklings, as she called her two boys, niece and nephew, were now married. Happily. A true rarity in the ton. Four love matches. And they would all be together for the holiday season.
“When Rowan comes home,” Arabella gushed at the mere mention of her husband, “Lily smiles up at him and makes the most delightful gurgling sounds.”
Marissa nodded. Lily was most likely experiencing stomach distress and not actually smiling at Rowan. She was little more than an infant. But Marissa chose not to mention such a thing to Arabella.
Now, where was I? Oh, yes. She’d filed the survey map and asked her solicitors to determine validity and challenge Pendleton’s ownership of the Blue John mine.
She didn’t give a fig for the money or the mine, really. But what she did care about was that her request to determine ownership would be tied up in court for years. Requiring thousands of pounds for Pendleton to defend. His solicitors were bleeding him dry already.
“Aunt Maisy?” Arabella touched her knee. “Where have you gone?”
“Only imagining how lovely it will be to have us all together for the holiday season,” she said, dragging her attention back to Arabella. “I know we should escape London, but I find town to be much more convenient than if we were to retreat to the country.”
Her niece cocked her head. “Really? You are simply thinking of cooked Christmas goose and a seating chart for dinner?”
“Don’t be silly. Whatever else should I be thinking of?” A pair of silvery eyes above striking cheekbones floated to mind. Marissa pushed such thoughts aside.
Arabella set down her teacup with a small clatter. “Brendan has written me.”
Marissa took in her niece’s smug little grin. It was no surprise her younger son would write to Arabella. The two cousins had been close for most of their lives. But had Brendan written her concerning Reggie. . .or his discovery of Marissa with Haddon?
“I didn’t think you found his searching for fossils to be so entertaining,” she hedged. Brendan, much like his father, adored fossils and rocks. He’d studied geology and spent most of his time in caves or scaling cliffs and had led a primarily solitary existence until meeting Petra. “I suppose you’re disappointed you won’t be able to torture Petra any longer without him objecting.”
“I’ll still torment my sister-in-law, only much more discreetly.” Arabella gave her a prim look. “Petra and I have reached an understanding of sorts.”
“I’m happy to hear it.”
“Brendan told me about Reggie.”
Marissa swished the tea around in her mouth, thinking carefully about what she should say to her niece, uncertain as to what Brendan had told her. The family had been informed of the discovery of the late Earl of Morwick’s remains and his burial. But not of how he’d died, exactly. Or why.
“I see. And what did Brendan impart?”
“Everything.” Arabella’s dark eyes flashed as she popped a biscuit into her mouth. “No wonder you and Lady Pendleton are no longer friends. She had your husband murdered for a bloody mine full of Blue John.”
Marissa’s hand trembled slightly at Arabella’s assessment of the situation. It was still difficult, at times, for her to hear the truth spoken out loud. The sheer treachery of her former neighbors boggled the mind.
“I see he has told you everything. And since he has, then you must be aware Brendan promised he would not retaliate against Viscount Pendleton or his family,” Marissa said.
“But you made no such promise, Aunt Maisy, did you?”
Marissa took another sip of tea. “No, I did not.”
“Brendan left you a loophole. Intentionally, I think,” Arabella said. “Unlike Viscount Pendleton or
