Page 61 of An Affair at Stonecliffe

“But you knew about it,” Carlisle pointed out.

“Sterling told me, of course.”

“Of course,” Adeline murmured.

“Do you know what the terms were, Lady Lockwood?” Noelle asked.

“Not in detail... Sterling gave me the gist of it. It came out of some silly conversation they had—you and Thomas were newlyweds, Adeline, and Nathan’s father was engaged. Horace and Belinda had been married a year or two. They were chatting about how they were settling down and having children and that sort of thing, and for some reason they thought up this scheme to create an endowment for their descendants.”

“Even the men who didn’t have children yet?”

“Yes—well, some of the other men may have already had children. Anyway, the idea was that it was to end on some certain date, I’m not sure when, and the money would be divided among their last living male offspring.”

“Only the boys?” Noelle asked. “That hardly seems fair.”

“It rarely is, is it?” Lady Lockwood replied.

“This seems a most peculiar arrangement,” Carlisle said.

“Well, they had been drinking all evening.”

“But they went through with it? You’re certain they set up a trust?”

“Yes. I told Sterling it sounded like a fool’s game and he shouldn’t throw his money away on it, and he said it had already been done.”

“Who drew it up? I spoke with Lord Drewsbury’s lawyer, and he knew nothing about it.”

“No. I imagine Drewsbury’s solicitor would have tried to talk him out of it. They must have used one of the other men’s lawyers.”

“So Sloane is maintaining that one of the other beneficiaries of this trust is trying to kill Gil so he can claim the money?” Nathan grimaced. “What nonsense! Lady Lockwood just said there were ten or twelve men in that group. Those men had offspring, some of them probably several. It beggars belief that this chap is working his way through all of the descendants, killing them off one by one. No one’s taken a potshot at me. What about you, Carlisle?”

“No.” Carlisle shook his head.

“A child would be easier to do away with than a grown man,” Annabeth pointed out. “Besides, Gil is younger and therefore likely to outlive the rest of you. He could be seen as a greater threat.”

“That would make sense,” Carlisle agreed. “But there’s another problem. How does this person know about the tontine if the thing was kept so secret?”

“Grandmother knew about it,” Annabeth responded. “Perhaps one of the other men told his son. Or his wife or a friend. Who’s to say that they were all as dedicated to following the rules as your fathers?”

“Annabeth...” Carlisle said carefully. “I know you don’t want the villain to be Sloane, but—”

“And you and Nathan want it to be him,” Annabeth snapped back.

“No. We don’t. My only desire is to stop whoever it is. I intend to look into every possibility, no matter how likely or unlikely.”

“Of course.” Annabeth lowered her eyes to the needlework in her hands.

“Good.” Carlisle settled back in his seat.

Noelle, watching Annabeth thrust her needle into the cloth and yank it through, had the suspicion that Annabeth was not as satisfied with Carlisle’s answer as he seemed to think. She decided that she would talk to the other woman about the matter when neither of the men were around.

Just at that moment, there was the sound of running feet in the hall, and Noelle jumped to her feet, all other thoughts fleeing her head. “Gil!”

She hurried out of the room and held out her arms to her son, her heart swelling in her chest.

“Mama! You’re home!” Gil threw himself at her, and Noelle wrapped her arms around him, kissing his head as she squeezed him to her. Whoever the villain was, she promised herself, she would find him. No one was going to hurt Gil.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE