Free Gypsy Heiress by Laura London Page A

shrugged. “If you manage your income well, you can afford to buy more—and Vincent can still have his empire.”
    There could be no doubt that Brockhaven’s words were a baited challenge. They might have been a threat had Brockhaven allowed that much emotion to color his voice. I had learned from Ellen that Brockhaven had no reputation for punctilio, but I could no longer ignore that this was something more. What Lord Brockhaven felt for Vincent was, at the very least, a long-held, if strictly disciplined, animosity. My discovery filled me with an urgent disquiet. Without understanding why, I was filled with the dread of a rabbit trapped in a cow yard, to be trampled without design or malice because she wasn’t fleet or clever enough to avoid getting in the way. I’m not surprised that Vincent looked at me with compassion. I’m sure I bore a stricken expression.
    “Poor child,” he said, “you look bewildered. Had this not been explained to you? I didn’t realize! What a shock for you! Permit me to clarify what we’ve been saying. Your paternal grandfather has left fifteen thousand acres of land for you, possibly more. We won’t know the full sum of it until the courts have examined the nuances of the will.”
    “Fifteen… thousand? It can’t be!” I heard the hollow whisper of my thoughts. “I don’t want it. Can I give it back?”
    Vincent was amused. “That would be impossible, my dear, believe me. And even if it could be done, we could never permit you to do anything so detrimental to your interests. In a day or two, you’ll begin to grow used to the idea…”
    “Please, I don’t
want
to grow used to the idea,” I said wretchedly. “People must live on the land. I wouldn’t understand what to do for them, or how to care for the things that are there. I couldn’t! I wasn’t born to that kind of life, and it’s as far from what I know as
my
life would be to you.”
    The young man tilted his head back, as though he was beginning to really see me. To my embarrassment, his eyes began to gleam with tender admiration. He said slowly, “You are a woman in a million, do you realize that? That your initial thoughts should be for the families who live on the land!”
    “Oh, don’t, Vincent!” snapped his wife. “It’s plain to see that the twit’s stupider than a mule.” She glared at me. “It’s not who lives on the land, you ninny-tinny gypsy, it’s the income from the land. Enough to buy every shabby gypsy wagon in Europe and enough left over for tick soap, which is the first thing that I intend to buy for you as soon as the court appoints me as your guardian.”
    Brockhaven leaned back in his chair, the long, sensuously muscled line of his leg stretched before him, one ankle resting on the other. “The court won’t appoint,” he said. “Chadbourne left a codicil to his will naming a trustee, should the estate pass into the hands of a minor child.”
    “How like the old man.” Vincent’s eyes narrowed at the corners, curiosity laid naked in his face. “That hadn’t occurred to me, I’ll admit.” He turned to me. “I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but in time you’ll learn that your grandfather was something of a tartar—hence your own father’s running away, never to return. Not expecting him to return, I’m afraid that none of us put much attention into the clauses of the will that concern you, and I couldn’t tell you who he might have appointed to have the care of you. Never mind. Mr. Bartholemew, the lawyer, will know, and in the meantime, I want you to make your home with us! Isabella and I are your family now, my dear, and that bond is going to ease us through every difficulty that we meet.” He gave me a quick smile as though we had sealed a bargain. Then he turned to Lord Brockhaven. “Alex, Isabella and I won’t forget what you’ve done for us in discovering Liza! I’m fully sensible of the trouble you’ve taken in this matter, and there’s no reason