Burning Bright (Brambridge Novel 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

held out one hand; the other held an ornate walking stick with a large metal knob at the top.
    James reluctantly shook it. His last memory of Edgar had been of the large grin on his face as he observed James’ misfortune.
    Edgar was still slim, and tall, but judicious padding to his tailored coat gave him well-defined shoulders. His dark auburn hair was slicked back, and his face held a smile of welcome.
    “Oh James,” his mother said, patting at her nose with a handkerchief. “Edgar has been such a help to us.”
    James fought hard not to hunch his shoulders. Would a word of welcome have been too much to ask from the woman who called herself his mother? Where had she been when he had needed help? Where had she ever been in his life?
    Still grasping Edgar by the hand, he held his gaze. Edgar did not glance away; his expression was clear, the light from the tapers causing his pupils to appear large and round.
    “I understand from Cecilia we have you to thank for looking after the estate for Mother and Father,” he said.
    Edgar blinked. Was it his imagination or did Edgar’s pupils grow even bigger? Blinking, his gaze caught on the man who sat behind Edgar at the writing desk in the corner. He was dressed in a suit and looked like every other lawyer that James had met. He had to be the Edward Granger who had written to him.
    The man cleared his throat and consulted a fob watch.
    “Apologies.” James let go of Edgar’s hand. “I have been travelling for the last three days.” He said nothing of his stop at the Fountain Inn.
    “Well, then, if I may begin?” The solicitor gazed over his spectacles, his face filled with disapproval. Without waiting for James to find a seat, he recited from the sheets in front of him. “I, Lord Alexander George Edward Stanton, being of sound mind bequeath the following: to my wife an annual stipend of one hundred pounds.”
    His mother's weeping ratcheted up a notch. James fought the urge to roll his eyes, but crossed his arms and leaned against the fireplace.
    “To my daughter I bequeath the scrub land opposite the stone mine. May she find it as frustrating as I did.”
    James glanced at Cecilia. Whilst outwardly she appeared calm, a muscle twitched at the corner of her eye. She folded and unfolded her hands tensely into her gown. His father had always said the land was worthless. With just a few strokes of the pen he had cut off his daughter without a dowry. It would be up to James to see it right.
    “To Edgar, I leave my horse Sarabande,” the solicitor continued in a bland voice. “You ever did enjoy following me around and I thought it was my horse that had been of interest.”
    Edgar's face blanched. James frowned. Had he been expecting more for helping with the estate? It seemed cruel that Edgar had spent years dealing on his parents’ behalf and received nothing for his pains.
    Of course his father had probably wanted to pass down the estate and mine to his heirs in the entirety. James would be looked upon to provide for his mother and sister out of the estate's income. He sighed. That probably included Edgar too.
    James uncrossed his arms and kicked at the edge of the fraying carpet with his feet. He looked up to find the solicitor observing him, even more dolefully than before. The man hesitated and then proceeded.
    “To my son I bequeath nothing. He disappointed me while he lived under my roof and I find nothing to have changed my mind in the intervening years.”
    James uncrossed his legs and stepped away from the mantelpiece. Nothing ?
    Brambridge Manor was not his.
     

CHAPTER 3
     
    Harriet lurched as she ducked beneath another low door, her heavy bag slung over her shoulder. She stumbled slightly on the step as her tender foot came down heavily on the uneven stone. Whimpering, she braced herself against the door surround and closed her eyes.
    The previous night she’d strode out with such resolve, knowing calmly what she was going to say.
    And then she’d seen