The Reluctant Earl by Joan Wolf Read Free Book Online

SIX
     
    When Simon entered the abbey and asked for his father, a footman directed him to the library.  He went along to the appointed room, his heart thumping but his lithe walk quiet on the marble tiles of the hallway.  The library door was partially open and, as Simon raised his hand to push it open all the way, he heard his father’s deep voice.  Without a second thought, he stopped his motion and listened.
    The countess’ voice came next, shrill and furious.  “Why did you never tell me that Woodbridge was getting this huge inheritance from the Jarvis family?  One hundred thousand pounds!  He gets one hundred thousand pounds, and you tell me you haven’t enough money for me to go up to London this year?   You’re unbelievable.  You went through all your first wife’s money, and now you’ve gone through mine?  You had better find a way to get your hands on that trust fund, James.  And once you do, there will be no more gambling!  Do I make myself clear?” 
    One hundred thousand pounds!  Simon’s heart leaped in his chest. 
    “I believe the old man tied it up pretty tightly, Helen.”  The earl’s voice sounded grim.
    “There has to be a way to break it.  I never heard of such a thing.  It’s true my Papa inserted a clause in our marriage contract that some of his money would come back to me if you died first, but that’s not an unusual arrangement.  This arrangement is … well, it’s ridiculous.  And why did you never tell me about it?”
          “I never told anyone.  I had almost forgot it myself untiI Pitt received this peremptory letter from Jarvis’ solicitor. Woodbridge will have to be informed.  That banker fellow, Richard Jarvis, is named as the administrator of the trust.  I’m going to tell him the trust can damn well pay for Woodbridge’s Oxford education.  I don’t see why I should have to come up with the blunt when there’s one hundred thousand pounds coming to him.”
    “There’s a trustee for the money?”
    “Until Woodbridge turns twenty one.”
    The countess’ voice rose.  “Why weren’t you named trustee?  You’re his father!”
    The earl’s laugh was bitter.  “The old man didn’t trust me.  He wanted the marriage because I could give his daughter a title and his prospective grandson an earldom.  He shelled out a huge amount of cash, Helen, to pull me out of River Tick, and he told me in no uncertain terms that I wouldn’t get another penny.”  He paused and his voice hardened.  “I’ve always had a suspicion the Jarvises were Jews originally.”
    “Jews!”  The countess was aghast. 
    “Oh, they traipse off regularly to Church of England services, but I’ve always wondered about their origins.  They came from somewhere in Austria, I believe.  I doubt that Jarvis was their original name.”
    Simon stood like a statue in the hall listening to this disgusting conversation.  His poor mother.  How could her father have forced her to marry such a despicable man?  It horrified him to think his father’s blood ran in his own veins.  He couldn’t bear to listen to another word so he knocked once, pushed open the door and stepped into the room.
     
    #   #   #
     
    “There you are, Woodbridge.”
    “Good afternoon, Father.  Good afternoon, Stepmother.”
    The countess stared at him, her light gray eyes cold as ice.  She hated to be addressed as ‘stepmother,’ and Simon knew it.        
    “I have some good news for you,” the earl said.  He was dressed for riding and looked impatient to be off.  “It seems that your mother’s father left some money for you to inherit when you turn eighteen.”
    “My mother’s father?” Simon said, looking surprised.  “Do you mean my grandfather?”
    “Of course he means your grandfather,” the countess snapped. 
    Simon’s face was a mask of innocent politeness.  “It’s just that this is the first time I’ve heard my father say anything about my mother’s