Page 18 of The Vanished

She was suddenly very cold despite the heat of the fire, since the truth of their predicament was finally beginning to sink in. As far as she knew, there were no male relations. The family was all women—her and Honor, Aunt Clarissa and Rose, and two unmarried female cousins who’d moved to a pensione near Florence a few years before Honor was born. Her father didn’t have a brother or even a living male cousin, so there was no nephew who could come to the rescue.

“Surely the estate must pass to a female descendant if there’s no one else to inherit,” she said.

Douglas shook his head. “If there’s no male heir, then the lot goes to a trustee. If there’s no trustee, the estate is seized by the Crown.”

“Is there a trustee?” Geneva asked, suddenly breathless.

Her father exhaled deeply. “The trustee was my father’s closest friend, John Marlow. The role passed to his son Jason upon his death. Jason passed two months ago. And Jason’s boy died in Belgium.”

“So, what happens now?”

Geneva was doing her best to hold back tears. This morning, her biggest dilemma had been whether she should meet Rory for lunch. Now her whole life was coming undone, and once her father was gone she and Honor might no longer have a home or an allowance to live on.

“As it turns out, there is a male relation,” Douglas said, and smiled for the first time since Geneva had walked into the library. “My father’s cousin, Alan, decamped to America when he was in his twenties. He was seduced by the promise of easy gold and went out to California.”

“Did he find gold?” Geneva asked.

She was surprised by the turn the conversation had taken, but seeing her father smile gave her some hope for the future. Perhaps this cousin would look after them until Geneva married. Then there would be the promise of a new generation.

“I believe he did, but I don’t know how much,” Douglas said with a shrug.

“And this Alan is to inherit?”

Douglas shook his head again. “Alan died some years ago, and it proved quite difficult to locate his widow, but Mr. Lefferts persevered, and the inquiry agent he’d engaged out in California eventually tracked Constance Bellamy to Montana. She married a rancher, of all things, so her surname had changed,” he said, sounding quite bemused. “Her son with Alan, Jesseph, is the only remaining male relation.”

“But that’s ridiculous. We’ve never even met him. Why can’t you add your own stipulation?” Geneva demanded. “Your grandfather changed the terms when it suited him. Why can’t you?”

“That’s not how these things work, my dear.”

“Surely it should be up to you who you leave your home to,” Geneva protested.

“My grandfather’s will was a legal document that was ratified by the court. I can’t simply ignore his wishes.”

“What do you even know about this Jesseph?”

“He’s in banking. And he lives in New York,” Douglas announced.

“How old is he?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but he can’t be more than thirty.”

“Is he married?”

“He is not.”

“Engaged?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Did Mr. Lefferts speak to this man?” Geneva asked. Her father seemed uncertain of the most basic facts.

“No, but he wired him, and Jesseph replied by return cable. Then Mr. Lefferts sent him a letter explaining the situation.”

“What will happen to Honor and me once he moves into our home?”

It felt callous to speak of the future as though Douglas were already gone, but Geneva needed to understand what was going to happen. She was still reeling from her father’s revelation and would need time to absorb the sorrow and shock of it, but he had summoned her to discuss the future of Bellamy Hall, and that was where she had to keep her attention. The rest would come later, when she was alone and could give vent to her grief in private.

Douglas blanched, and Geneva knew she had reached the heart of the matter. It wasn’t only the house they stood to lose, but everything their life there had meant.