A Lost Love. Кэрол Мортимер

benefactors are in this room,’ he informed them nervously. ‘But I have done this for a reason——’

      ‘I hope it's a good one,’ Rafe Charlwood bit out tautly.

      ‘Indeed,’ the older man was beginning to look flustered. ‘The people not here today receive only nominal bequests, and the nature of the rest of the will is rather—private, to the family,’ he chose his words with care.

      Brooke sensed Rafe Charlwood stiffen at her side, seeing the look that passed between him and Patrick before his narrow-eyed gaze was turned on her. She felt the colour move slowly up into her cheeks—almost as if she were actually guilty of something!

      ‘In that case you'd better proceed,’ the head of the Charlwood family instructed haughtily.

      Reginald Gardner shot Rafe a nervous look and shuffled the papers about even more. ‘I—Yes, well, I—I'll omit all the legal bumf and get straight to the point, shall I?’

      ‘I think that would be best,’ the other man drawled icily.

      Brooke's hands clenched together tensely in her lap as the lawyer began to talk, having a feeling, by the way the lawyer had decided on secrecy for the reading of the will to the family, that by the end of this meeting she was going to be even more unpopular with them than when she had arrived. What had Jocelyn done?

      She listened as Reginald Gardner told them that all Jocelyn's money went back to the family, relieved that Jocelyn had kept her word about that. And yet she could feel her tension rising with each modulated word the man spoke, sensing that the ‘private matter to the family’ was going to be a bombshell, and she was going to be at the centre of it. She could tell the Charlwoods expected it too; Rosemary and Patrick were looking anxious, although Rafe's expression remained bland, as if he was prepared for whatever came next.

      Reginald Gardner was starting to look flustered again, and Brooke felt her palms actually become damp. Oh, Jocelyn, what have you done? she cried silently.

      ‘Now we come to Miss Charlwood's last bequest.’ The lawyer shot Rafe another anxious look. ‘I'm afraid it isn't straightforward, and——’

      ‘For God's sake get on with it!’ Rosemary snapped. ‘All that's left are the shares Jocelyn had in the company.’

      ‘And the cottage,’ the lawyer reminded her softly.

      ‘The cottage?’ Rosemary frowned. ‘But surely that reverts to the estate?’

      ‘Not necessarily,’ the lawyer shook his head. ‘Mr Charlwood, your father,’ he looked at the other two men in the room, ‘and as such Jocelyn's brother, deeded both the cottage and its surrounding gardens to your aunt after the two of you were grown up and so no longer needed her at the main house.’

      ‘But surely it was only for her lifetime?’ Patrick spoke for the first time.

      Reginald Gardner shook his head. ‘There was no mention of that in the deeds.’

      ‘But surely it was intended,’ Rosemary persisted sharply.

      ‘Intent does not make it so,’ the lawyer told her stiffly. ‘I drew up the deeds to the cottage, and neither by word or deed did Mr Charlwood imply that that was to be the case.’

      ‘Read the rest of the will, Reginald,’ Rafe Charlwood told him harshly, his features looking as if etched from granite. ‘We can argue the legalities of this later.’

      ‘Oh, it's legal,’ the other man said indignantly. ‘I drew the will up myself. It's just a little—unorthodox, that's all.’

      ‘And obviously involves Miss Adamson,’ Rosemary shot her another look of intense dislike.

      ‘It involves you all ultimately,’ he informed them quietly. ‘I'll read out the last bequest now, although as I've already said, it's perfectly legal. “To my dear friend Brooke Adamson, I leave the cottage in the grounds of Charlwood for the duration of her lifetime when it will revert to the estate——” ’

      ‘Impossible!’

      ‘Did Aunt Joss have a brainstorm?’ Patrick echoed his wife's outrage.

      Brooke had no idea why they were so surprised; after hearing that the cottage belonged to Jocelyn she had expected as much. She had a feeling by Rafe Charlwood's silence that he too had suspected it. Well, none of them need worry; she had no intention of accepting the bequest.

      ‘Go on, Reginald,’ Rafe invited softly.

      ‘There's more?’ Patrick mocked.

      ‘Quite a lot more,’ the lawyer nodded. ‘And I can assure you that Miss Charlwood's faculties were perfectly in order when she made this will,’ he told the young man sternly.

      ‘Sorry,’ Patrick murmured almost guiltily.

      ‘Hm.’ Reginald Gardner had stopped looking nervous now, continuing to read. ‘ “And to my nephews, Rafe and Patrick, I leave my shares in Charlwood Industries, eleven per cent to Rafe, nine per cent to Patrick, giving them fifty-one and forty-nine percent respectively—on condition that they make no effort to prevent Brooke Adamson inhabiting the aforementioned cottage.” ’

      ‘That's ridiculous——’

      ‘And if we do “make an effort” to prevent Miss Adamson living in the cottage?’ Rafe Charlwood coolly interrupted his sister-in-law, surprisingly calm.

      ‘Then the shares revert to Miss Adamson,’ the lawyer told him in the hushed room.

      Brooke swallowed hard, sensing the antagonism building up around her. ‘What if I don't want the cottage?’ she asked softly, not looking at any of the family, not needing to know of their resentment. ‘Give it back to the family?’

      ‘Then the shares automatically become yours, and you will have the controlling interest in Charlwood Industries,’ the lawyer told her gravely. ‘I have a letter for you here from Jocelyn.’ He stood up to walk over to her, handing her an envelope. ‘I have no idea of the contents,’ he told her gently. ‘But I do know that she intended you to have the cottage and not the shares. But it will, of course, be your decision.’

      Brooke stood up to rip open the envelope, moving slightly away from the family as she read the contents of the handwritten sheets, vaguely aware of Rosemary Charlwood's cutting comments to her husband about the outrage of the contents of the will, declaring they would fight it.

      All the discontent around her faded into the background as Brooke read the letter, and all she could do was silently thank her friend once again. Even in her illness Jocelyn had thought of Brooke, imposing the conditions of her will so that Brooke might be with her son at last—with Robert, the son she had given Rafe three years ago.