Once Again a Bride Read Online Free PDF

out of her house. With difficulty, she controlled herself and said, “Yes.” She sat back down. “Thank you, Lucy,” she added as her one ally turned to go.
    Sir Alexander took the chair opposite her without invitation. “I beg your pardon, but we had no idea… how the dev… how did you come to be married to my uncle?”
    “In the usual way.” Charlotte sat very straight. She kept her chin high, trying to show that she would not be intimidated. “I was told you have charge of his will?”
    He looked around the room, evaluating and disdaining, Charlotte thought. “Have you no family to lend you support in these… trying circumstances?”
    Clearly, he thought she was a nobody who had latched onto his uncle. “My father, George Rutherford, died last summer at his estate in Hampshire. I have no other family. He told me that he had he seen to all the necessary legal matters when I married. I brought a substantial dowry…” Stop babbling , she told herself.
    Her visitor’s expression was odd. It almost looked like pity, if such an emotion had been possible from a connection of Henry’s. Charlotte braced herself for bad news. Was there anything left in the world but bad news?
    Had her father’s mind been up to legalities? She had so wanted to rely on him, to believe he was still the man who had cared for her so kindly all her life.
    “I see.” The two words were heavy with foreboding. “My uncle’s will is… unusual.”
    He looked as if he wished she didn’t exist. Well, Charlotte wished he didn’t. Her hands closed into fists in her lap.
    “It mandates that this house is to become a museum for his collections.” The man spoke quickly, as if to get it over with. “Scholars and other… qualified visitors are to be admitted on request. You are permitted to remain as long as you oversee these visits, learning as you can about the objects and imparting this knowledge. There is, apparently, a catalog. If any item is sold, all his assets, including the house, revert to the British Museum.”
    “What?”
    “There is sufficient income from investments to maintain a… small household. Not perhaps on the scale…”
    Charlotte was speechless with outrage.
    “I took the time to go over the document with my solicitor before visiting you, and—”
    “Took the time? How very kind of you.”
    “—his opinion was that the will would stand up in court, I fear. If you had been married for a longer time…”
    “I brought him eight thousand pounds!” Charlotte burst out. “Along with what my father left me. Are you telling me he spent it all on his wretched ‘collections’?”
    “I cannot say for sure…”
    “He did.” She clasped her hands so tight they hurt. “He married me for the money, of course he did; why did I not see it? Why did my father not…?” Her voice broke, and she despised herself for it.
    “Mrs. Wylde…”
    “Do not call me that! Do not ever call me that!” She should have known. There were so many things she should have known. Why had she let herself be moved about like a chess piece? Why hadn’t she thought ?
    “If I can assist…”
    “Apparently you cannot.” No one was going to tell her what to do again, ever, Charlotte vowed. She would never again be taken by surprise in this horrible way. “Just give me…”
    The drawing room door flew open, and Holcombe strode in, brazen as ever. Lucy trailed him, making helpless gestures. “I want to know what I have inherited,” he said.
    Rage brought Charlotte to her feet. She wanted to shout at him, at everyone. She wanted to sweep them aside like sparrows. It took every ounce of willpower to keep her voice even. “What is left to the servants?”
    “Who is…?” began Sir Alexander. He paused, took in her expression and Lucy’s, looked at Holcombe. He stood up. “There are no bequests to the servants in my uncle’s will.”
    “Nonsense! He promised me…”
    “You heard Sir Alexander!”
    The valet ignored her, addressed