Page 57 of Heiress Gone Wild

She frowned. “Mr. Jessop?”

“No. Jessop’s the executor of your father’s will, and one of your trustees, but now that you are living here, you’ll also need a British solicitor. I’ll ask Torquil to recommend one for you.”

“If you can answer my questions, do I need a solicitor?”

“I want you to have a lawyer of your own choosing. As an heiress, it’s not wise for you to trust anyone completely, Marjorie. Not even your own trustees. You’ve inherited an enormous fortune, and that’s a great responsibility. It can also be a burden.”

“How enormous?”

“It’s hard to give an exact amount, for it’s all invested, but at current rates of exchange, it amounts to around twenty million dollars.”

“Twentymillion?”

Her amazed voice must have carried to the couples across the room, for Irene gave a cough and bid, “Seven diamonds,” in an unnecessarily loud voice to keep the others’ attention on their game.

“Good heavens,” Marjorie said, staring at him, clearly staggered by the amount. “I thought one or two, maybe. But twenty?” She sat back, considering. “You say it’s invested,” she said at last. “In what?”

“Property, funds, stocks, bonds. American, mostly, and some British.”

“And South African,” she reminded, looking down at the sheaf of papers, idly flipping one corner of the stack in her fingers. “Which is why you’re going there.”

“Yes.”

“But it’s not the only reason you’re going, is it?” Her hands stilled, and she looked up. “You want to go.”

“I do,” he admitted frankly. “Your father’s descriptions and stories fascinated me. He said Africa has some of the most beautiful country in the world. I’d like to see it.”

She nodded, and her acceptance of his answer ought to have relieved his mind, but it didn’t. Quite the opposite, for he suddenly felt off-balance, uncertain, and he didn’t know why.

What does matter to you? What do you want from life?

Marjorie’s question was one he’d been asking himself ever since he’d left these shores, but he’d never been able to answer it with any degree of success. He thought he’d made peace with his own ambivalence, but as he looked at the woman across from him, he realized he’d made peace with nothing.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself back to the matter at hand. “I want you to read these,” he said, gesturing to the sheaf of documents. “Study them, learn all you can about your inheritance, Marjorie. You have the right to know, and besides, it’s crucial that you begin thinking like an heiress and learn to guard yourself, for there are many people who will try to take advantage of you.”

She bit her lip, staring down at the documents between them. “People like Count de la Rosa, you mean,” she said after a moment.

“Yes. I’ll help you avoid that as best I can, but Irene and Clara and their husbands will be of greater assistance to you than I, for they know far more about the people you’ll meet here than I do.”

“Jonathan?” She looked up, her brown eyes wide and dark. “What would have happened, if the count had...” She paused as if finding it hard to ask the question. “What if he had taken advantage of me and I’d had to marry him?”

Violence erupted inside Jonathan, sudden and hot, and he had to curl his hands into fists beneath the table. But when he spoke, his answer was one that did not involve ripping the count’s throat out. “Mr. Jessop and I would have done our best to restrict his income in a prenuptial agreement, but your reputation would have been in the balance—he’d have seen to that. That’s why it’s so important that you not only rely on your chaperones, but also exercise discernment yourself.”

“Trust no one, in other words,” she said with a sigh, plunking an elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “I don’t really like that aspect of my new life.”

“There are compensations. We’ll open a bank account for you, with an allowance. It’ll be a generous one, but don’t overspend and expect me to give you more. I won’t. Heiress or no, I expect you to be responsible with your money.”

“No racehorses?” She grinned, the impudent minx. “No yachts? No motorcars?”

“No.”

“You’re such a tyrant.”

“Am I?” He put his hand on the rosewood box on the table, and the temptation to tease her was suddenly irresistible. “Then I suppose I’ll just put your jewels in a bank vault until August.”

She straightened in her chair, glancing at the box then back at him. “The necklace is in there?”

“More than just that.”

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