“Marry!” The word wouldn’t leave her, as she sat frozen, her usual reaction to angry confrontation or shock. It had been that way since that fateful day, when she’d witnessed the death of her father and brother. She was meant to have stayed in the small apartment they’d moved to suddenly, after her father had lost his money in business deals. But she’d slipped outside, unable to resist the playground in the park below. There she’d been approached by a man with a Russian accent who’d tricked her into identifying the apartment in which they were staying. And what happened next had haunted her for the rest of her life. Her parents had told her to stay hidden, stay quiet, and she hadn’t. There were no guns now, no danger like she’d experienced before, but her reaction never changed. She’d learned her lesson well.
Distantly, she heard raised voices, but they felt like a million miles from her. The solicitor looked deeply uncomfortable, but stoically unmoved. He’d been accustomed to dealing with her step-father for years and so was therefore inured to aggravation. But the other man? She glanced at Sebastian Richmond. He’d leapt to his feet and stood in a threatening pose in front of the desk. She couldn’t even make out the words he was saying, she was so upset. But whatever they were, it was clear he was furious and equally clear the solicitor refused to change his stance.
As Sebastian paced away from the desk and flung open a window, allowing the fresh early spring air to enter the stuffy room, the solicitor looked at her over his spectacles.
“Miss Anand. Are you quite well?”
She opened her mouth to speak, licked her dry lips, but closed her mouth again and shook her head.
The solicitor said something to his clerk, who pressed a glass of water into her hands. Gratefully she took a sip. She inhaled a deep breath, and tried to force a reassuring smile.
“Did I hear correctly, Mr. Jackson? My step-father wishes me to marry—” She glanced at Sebastian’s back. The tension in his broad shoulders was clear. She couldn’t bring herself to say his name out loud. It might make this nightmare become real.
“Yes, I’m afraid you did, Indra,” he said, slipping into the familiarity of using her name. After all, he was a frequent visitor to the house and knew her well. “Your step-father never did anything without reason, although it’s hard to guess what that might be in this instance.”
Sebastian turned around. “My father was always completely irrational.”
The solicitor’s lips tightened, but he didn’t respond.
“And I will not agree to such a ridiculous proposition,” Sebastian continued. “The land is mine. My brothers agree—it’s always been mine. My mother’s parents always intended for it to be mine.”
“It was yourfather’sto bequeath, Sebastian,” said the solicitor. “And he did so in sound mind. The will is watertight.”
“I’ll appeal.”
“That is your right, as you have standing. But you should know that, if successful, your father’s previous wills will come into play. His previous will left everything to charity. You will receive nothing under it.”
“Then I will contest that, too!”
“I anticipated you might respond in this way, therefore I had this document drawn up.” He handed him a sheet of thick cream paper. “You’ll see listed there, your father’s previous wills and their beneficiaries. If you go down that track and are successful, which is, I have to say, unlikely, you will end up with far less than what is presented to you now.”
Shakily, Indra rose to her feet. “This is preposterous, Mr. Jackson. You must see that.”
He inclined his head in recognition of the truth of what she said. “It is certainly unusual. And if you don’t like it, you can walk away. But, if you do so, you will walk away with nothing. There was no other provision made for you.”
A lump rose to her throat, and she nodded. There was only one thing she wanted, and that wasn’t money. It was to continue to live in the one place in the world in which she felt safe, and to continue her work on the estate.
The solicitor turned to Sebastian. “And the same applies to you. If you don’t agree, you walk away with nothing.”
Sebastian shrugged. “We can marry and then divorce immediately. That will satisfy the conditions of the will.”
The solicitor cleared his throat. “Five years,” he muttered. He looked from one to the other. “Your father has stipulated that you should remain married and live on the property for five years before divorcing, otherwise the house and estate become the property of charity.”
Sebastian swore and paced away again to the window. He looked back at them, unable to control his anger. “Is this even legal? It sounds archaic.”
“Contingent bequests are certainly unusual. But I’m afraid itisentirely legal. It’s been set up as a testamentary trust, the specific conditions of which you are most welcome to peruse, but I can assure you it’s watertight.”
“So, let’s get this straight. If I contest this, you don’t believe I’ll win and, if I lose, I’ll lose the lot.”
“Exactly.”
“Then it’s clear,” he said, facing Indra. “We must marry.”
She gasped. “You want this?”
“Of course I don’twantthis. But if it’s the only way I can inherit the estate, then I’ll do it. We can lead separate lives.” He frowned at the solicitor. “I take it that my father hasn’t insisted we have sex as part of the conditions of the will.”
Alarmed, she followed Sebastian’s gaze to the solicitor. She suddenly wondered exactly how much power her step-father wielded from the grave.