Free Dangerous Decisions by Margaret Kaine Page A

nodded.
    â€˜You’re a lucky devil, Johnnie.’ Sometimes Cora felt nothing but contempt for her clients. Rich, lazy sods, most of them. But she did have a soft spot for Johnnie. He always lingered afterwards and she rather liked the way he’d relax on the pillows while he smoked a fag. She liked their easy conversation too. Although Belle charged by the hour, he never quibbled about paying any extra.
    â€˜And you’re a smashing girl, Cora. Sometimes I wish …’ Johnnie didn’t complete the sentence and she read little into it. She wasn’t daft enough to think that she could ever play any part in his life. But after he’d left and she’d used a vinegar douche, Cora lifted the flower print and took out her journal from behind the brick. Turning to a clean page, she wrote the date and the words ‘
Johnnie – last weekend – country estate near Lichfield.
’
    Then she reddened her lips, gave another spray of scent, and with a swift glance over her shoulder to make sure everything was in order, went downstairs to acquire her next client. Some might shudder at her way of life, but Cora was used to it and she didn’t really mind, at least most of the time.
    Two weeks later in the austere book-lined study at Graylings, Oliver sat opposite the tall, round-shouldered man who had handled the legal affairs of the Faraday estate for the past twenty years. Finlay McPherson was peering through his rimless glasses at the sheaf of papers before him, a frown creasing his forehead.
    â€˜Is there some sort of problem?’
    Finlay removed his glasses and looked directly at a client he found impossible to fathom. ‘Not especially. We need to ascertain exactly what provision would be in place in the event of your death; which of course is the normal procedure in any Marriage Settlement. And we do have to consider all eventualities. You will need to make a new Will, of course. As you know, Graylings is entailed and in the unfortunate event of your future wife being left a widow without male issue, then the house and all lands belonging to it, including the farms, would be inherited by your first cousin Mr Selwyn Faraday.’ He glanced up not surprised to see a look of hostility in Oliver’s eyes. Finlay was well aware of the animosity between the two relatives and for once, his sympathies lay with Oliver. ‘A situation that I think we both hope would never materialise.’ He glanced down again at his papers. ‘Your personal assets including the London house are, of course, in your own disposal, but I am sure you will wish to provide for your wife and any issue you may have.’
    Oliver nodded. ‘But of course.’
    An hour later, their discussions complete, Finlay said, ‘That seems to have covered everything, I think.’ He gathered up his papers. ‘You say that you have plans to come to London in the near future.’
    â€˜Yes, I shall be at the London house from the fifth until the twelfth.’
    â€˜Excellent. I shall have the draft documents taken there by hand, and if you make any comments you have in the margin …’ The lawyer replaced his folder into a briefcase and snapped it shut.
    Oliver nodded with satisfaction and began to rise from his chair. ‘You say you need to leave directly after breakfast tomorrow?’
    â€˜I’m afraid so.’
    â€˜Then after luncheon perhaps we could attend to estate matters. My manager tells me that some tenant or other is disputing a boundary issue.’ Oliver began to move towards the door. ‘The fellow’s a damn nuisance, apparently – one of these types who’s always bleating about justice and people’s rights!’
    Finlay followed him into the wide hall with its black and white tiled floor. He always found visiting Graylings a most intriguing experience. The house had a grandeur normally only found in the country houses of the aristocracy.