Page 66 of Rivals at Ashmore Castle

‘He paid me an allowance, but I thought it was his own money,’ Angus said wonderingly.

‘He couldn’t have told you if he wanted to. It was in the deed. And your fortune was to come to you in full on his death, your marriage, or when you reached the age of thirty, whichever came first.’

Angus stared. ‘But – but—!’

‘Aye, I know,’ Allardice said, still kindly.

‘If I had married Rachel – Lady Rachel – I’d have got the money? Only I couldn’t marry her because I had no money!’

‘I’m not defending your father, now, nor blaming him, you understand. That’s beyond what I’m paid for. Had you married out of hand, the money would have come to you by law, but he was under no obligation to tell you that – quite the contrary, in fact. The most he could have done was to encourage you to wed. Or not to. An amusing dilemma.’

‘Not to me,’ Angus said bitterly.

‘Well, it’s done now,’ said Allardice. ‘Your grandmother Mechie’s money comes to you, and a grand sum it is. The income from the fund exceeded your allowance by a fair amount, so it’s been accumulating nicely. You’re a rich man, Sir Angus.’

‘How rich?’ Angus asked bluntly.

Allardice told him. Angus felt behind him for a chair and sat down. It was nothing like the amount of Mr Cowling’s fortune, for instance, but it was a very handsome sum, enough to keep a wife in style, in a large house, with servants, a carriage and all the new dresses she could desire.

A thought came to him. ‘What would have happened to the money if I’d died unwed before I was thirty?’ he asked.

Allardice’s smile disappeared. ‘It went to your father.’

Angus didn’t say anything. His father had arranged a marriage for him with the daughter of a business colleague, a man with whom he wanted to make a merger, probably expecting that Angus would plough his marriage-money back into the business – as he probably would have. But if Angus had married Rachel, probably that money would have been lost to his father’s enterprises. So he had forbidden the match and cut him off. Did he hope that Angus, bereft of support, would become destitute or desperate or both, and hurry himself into an early grave? It was a horrible suspicion to harbour. He was ashamed of himself. And yet…

Allardice had been watching his face. ‘I beg you not to think unhandsome thoughts, Sir Angus,’ he said. ‘They fester like poison in the mind.’

Angus roused himself. ‘You’re right. I won’t. What’s done can’t be undone. Does anyone else know about this legacy?’

‘I’m sure not. Your father was enjoined to keep it secret. It is entirely up to you whether you tell your family. I shall not.’

‘I don’t think I want to. Not yet, anyway. I need to get used to the idea.’

‘I shall tell them we were discussing the baronetcy, which is true. I should like you to come into my office in the next few days, if you’d be so kind, to look at accounts and sign documents, and at that time I can tell you more about the rights and duties that come with the title. And now we had better join the rest of the family.’ Angus stood obediently, and Allardice laid a fatherly hand on his shoulder. ‘I always took an interest in you, from the time you were a boy and used to play with my sons. The law has been twisted around you somewhat, like bindweed, but it’s all coming free now. Don’t fret – and don’t be bitter. Look on this as a new start, a chance to get clear and be the man you want to be.’

‘I shall, sir,’ Angus said. He didn’t feel it yet, but he knew it was the right thing.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Axe sat on the edge of his bed in his under-drawers, staring at his bare legs and feet. The window was open on the still July morning; the warm air brought in only the sleepy, questioning call of a wood pigeon in the yard.

He was an active man and did not usually dawdle over getting up; but this was an unusual day. A clittering sound of hard nails on bare floorboards heralded Dolly, bustling in to see what he was about.

‘You’re wanting your breakfast,’ he said, and her stumpy tail twitched madly. ‘I’m not sure I’ve the stomach for mine. You know what today is, don’t you?’

She sat down in front of him, her stout figure pooling in a patch of sunlight.

‘That’s right, it’s my special day,’ he said. ‘Going up to London to see the King. The King, Dol! He’s going to shake my hand and give me a medal. What do we think about that, eh? Axe Brandom shaking hands with the King of England.’

She hitched herself closer to put her ears within reach, in case he should feel inclined to scratch the special spot behind them.

‘I suppose you might think it’s a great honour. But you’re not the one as has to go up there and get looked at and spoke to. And then there’s all the to-do down in the village when we get back.’

Dolly yawned, her mouth stretching so wide her ears almost touched, and the yawn made her sneeze.

He smiled. ‘Aye, you’re not wrong. It is a lot of nonsense. But, see, Dol, I’ve not been given the choice. They want to make a fuss, and that’s that. They think they’re being kind, but don’t you get the feeling they’re watching ’emselves being kind, and liking it?’

Dolly decided breakfast wasn’t going to happen just yet, and lay down on the floor, folding one front paw over the other.