Frowning, she finally emerged from her room and immediately found Prudence in their sitting room. Seated at the small round table near the windows, she looked up from the newspaper she held. “Are you feeling all right today?”
“I didn’t sleep well.” Fiona didn’t want to tell her what had happened. She wasn’t sure she agreed with Tobias that it was shameless, but it was most certainly improper.
“Were you able to speak with Lord Overton about our encounter with Lady Bentley?” Prudence knew Fiona had gone downstairs for that purpose. Thankfully she’d been abed when Fiona returned.
“Briefly,” she said. “Apparently, he did court her, and she did choose Bentley over him. He did not, however, attempt to kidnap her.” Fiona rolled her eyes.
“Of course,” Prudence murmured. “I noticed you were downstairs for quite some time.”
There was no question, but Fiona heard her curiosity quite loudly. “I went to the library to spend some time with the maps.”
The butler stepped into the sitting room just then. “Pardon my intrusion, ladies. Miss Wingate, if you are free, your presence is requested in his lordship’s study.”
A wave of heat spiked through Fiona, followed closely by a crisp burst of anxiety. What could the earl want? Would it be awkward to be with him in the place where they’d embraced so intimately the night before?
“I’ll be right there, Carrin,” Fiona said, brushing her hand over the back of her upswept hair.
After the butler departed, Prudence said, “You look fine. Actually, you look very pretty.”
Darting a glance toward Prudence, Fiona dropped her hand to her side. “Thank you.” And blast because Fiona didn’t want anyone, including Prudence, knowing that she cared what she looked like in Tobias’s presence.
Tobias. She really oughtn’t call him that, even in her head.
Fiona walked downstairs, her pace altering between fast with anticipation and sedate with trepidation. By the time she reached the study, she felt as if she’d taken a few laps around the house.
As she stepped over the threshold, she nearly tripped. Tobias wasn’t there.
His secretary, a round-faced gentleman with dark, receding hair and a warm smile, stood from where he sat in a chair beside Tobias’s desk. “Good afternoon, Miss Wingate. Thank you for coming to meet with me. Will you sit for a moment?”
She glanced toward the settee but didn’t want to sit there. Instead, she took another chair on the other side of Tobias’s desk. “I didn’t realize I was coming to see you, Mr. Dyer. Carrin only told me that my presence was required in the study.”
“I see, well, my apologies. It wasn’t my intent to surprise you. With the deadline for his lordship’s marriage in ten days and his lack of a bride, I thought we should discuss the specifics of your inheritance.”
Her what? Fiona stared at him as words utterly failed her.
“Now, the twelfth is a Sunday, so the property will officially transfer to you on the thirteenth. The property does have a steward who was hired by Lady Overton, and you will likely wish to retain him, at least for a while—”
Fiona held up a hand and finally managed to push forth speech. “What inheritance are you speaking of? I am not aware of a property or anything else, for that matter.”
Mr. Dyer’s complexion paled by at least a shade. He shifted in his chair and glanced down at the papers in front of him on the corner of the desk. “Oh. I thought his lordship had informed you of the terms of his father’s will.”
Outrage warred with disappointment inside her. “He has not. I pray you will enlighten me since it seems to involve…me.” She somehow summoned a smile but feared it wasn’t at all pleasant. She clasped her hands so tightly in her lap that her fingers started to go numb.
Dyer hesitated. No doubt he was perplexed as to why his employer hadn’t told her a thing about any of this. He certainly seemed confused.
The secretary coughed. “Well, this is irregular, as I thought his lordship had told you of the situation. His father’s will states that his lordship must wed within three months of the prior earl’s death, and that date is the twelfth of March.”
Now Tobias’s search for a countess and his seeming inability to find one made sense. He wasn’t looking for a wife because he wanted one but because he had to marry. The servants’ chatter that Prudence had overheard also made sense.
“What happens if he doesn’t wed by that date?” Fiona asked.
“If he remains unwed, one of his properties will be transferred to you.”
“How can that be? Aren’t an earl’s properties entailed with the title?”
“It varies, but in this case, the estate in question belonged to Lord Overton’s mother’s family—that is, the current Lord Overton. Upon her marriage to the prior earl, Horethorne became his property.”
Fiona’s mind spun. She was to own an entire estate? That would change everything. She wouldn’t have to worry about Mrs. Tucket or herself, never mind when or whether she should marry. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. It was rare for women to own property. She wondered if her cousin was aware of this and whether he could prevent her from claiming it.
“The estate will be mine? It won’t belong to a gentleman who will hold it for me?”
The secretary shook his head. “The instructions are clear—you will be the owner.”
She stared at him in utter disbelief. This was beyond unexpected. It was a bloody miracle. “Does the estate have income?”
“Enough to support the house and provide a modest living for the inhabitants.”
This was unbelievable. “You said it’s called Horethorne?” The name was familiar.
Dyer smiled. “Yes, it’s a lovely estate in south Somerset.” As soon as he said Somerset, Fiona remembered where she’d heard the name of the estate. And with that, she recalled precisely what it was before the secretary even finished. “His lordship spent most of his childhood there.”
Her stomach sank. “Lord Overton told me about his
