The Importance of Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

filling up with these mechanical monsters.
    In fact he had considered purchasing one himself from the showroom in Berkeley Square. That was, of course, before his father had cut his allowance to a bare minimum. Now, it was all he could do to pay the servants’ wages.
    They were all waiting for him inside Mr. Brownlow’s large office. His father sat furthest away from the door with a face like a sphinx, while his grandmother tried to raise a smile for him, but it appeared more like a grimace.
    Also in the room were a few distant relatives whom the Viscount only ever saw at family gatherings.
    â€˜Vultures,’ he thought, as he acknowledged them.
    â€œAre we all present now?” asked Mr. Brownlow. “My Lord?”
    â€œYou may begin, Mr. Brownlow,” said the Earl without a hint of emotion. He adjusted his spectacles, took a deep breath and began to read,
    â€œTo my son, David, I bequeath the house in Belgrave Square, the house in Chalfont and the bulk of my fortune, subject to the condition that my wife, Emmeline, is allowed to live in it and be kept by him until the end of her days.”
    The Earl gave a slight nod as if satisfied and moved to rise.
    â€œIf you please, my Lord, there is more – ”
    The Earl looked at the Solicitor with a quizzical lift of his eyebrows.
    â€œMore?”
    â€œYes, my Lord. May I continue?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œTo my grandson, David, I bequeath Torr House in Bideford, North Devon, along with a stipend to be used solely to renovate the property and to make it once more the most splendid and beautiful house in the area.”
    â€œWhat house is this?” cried the Earl, before the Viscount had a chance to make further enquiries. “I know of no house in Devon!”
    He jumped to his feet and hovered dangerously close to Mr. Brownlow’s desk.
    â€œIt is, erhem, was your father’s property. Look, I have the deeds here.”
    Mr. Brownlow produced a parchment covered in gothic script. The Earl took it from him as if he did not believe of its existence. After reading a few lines, he threw it across the desk.
    â€œWhat is it, David?” asked the Marchioness. “If it is to do with that woman , then I wish to be informed.”
    There was such a tense silence in the room that no one dared moved a muscle.
    â€œWould everyone leave now please, apart from my son and my mother,” said the Earl through gritted teeth.
    â€œ Well ,” came the exclamation from one of the cousins.
    The Viscount had a sinking feeling he knew who the house had belonged to.
    When he was a child, his grandfather had often declared himself off to the West Country for the shooting or the hunting and reappearing weeks later.
    He had never questioned the reason for his grandfather’s long absences as so many of the nobility emptied out of London during the pheasant season or for Whit Sunday. Was it not all part of the Season?
    And now it all became horribly clear to him.
    â€˜Grandpapa had kept a mistress,’ he reasoned, as Mr. Brownlow closed the door behind the last of the relations.
    Mr. Brownlow cleared his throat as the Earl glared at him.
    â€œWould you mind explaining to us what this is about? I know of no house in Devon and the man was my own father.”
    He leaned over the desk at the Solicitor who appeared to be unruffled by this turn of events.
    â€œDarling, sit down,” said the Marchioness in a quiet voice. “It is quite all right, Mr. Brownlow. I was well aware of my husband’s other life.”
    â€œOther life!” shouted the Earl. “What other life is this? And why did I know nothing of it?”
    â€œYour father did not wish you to know. He thought it would be better if you did not.”
    â€œMama, how can you sit there so calmly? The man was an adulterer and disgraced his wedding vows. And now this. Brownlow, there must be some mistake. Are you certain this house of shame was not