“Oh, my dearest girl,” the Viscount hugged her back. He pinched her cheek lightly. “Now, you’ve got me all soft when I need to be strong.”
Oliver smiled slightly. “It is not so bad to be soft in front of our dear ones,” he said.
The Viscount nodded. “You are wise beyond your years, Your Grace.”
Oliver started to protest at the formal use of his title but the Viscount only smiled subtly at him. He closed his mouth and nodded imperceptibly back at the older man.
It had been an agreement between the both of them when Oliver and Suzanna came of age—he would refer to them by their titles so that they would never forget it and their parents. Although they were both under his care, Lord Rowley never wanted them to forget that they were the children of the Duke and Duchess of Minsbury and they were to be accorded all the respect that came with their birthright.
Lord Rowley smiled at Trixie again before he straightened himself and faced them. “Word has reached me that my only sister, Amelia, passed away last week.”
Silence descended over them once more. Claire covered her mouth as tears streamed down her face. Trixie buried her face in her father’s neck and hugged him tighter.
How their father must be hurting with this news!
Aunt Amelia was the Viscount’s only sister and living relative outside of Claire and Trixie. From all accounts, they both shared a very loving relationship and maintained correspondence even after Aunt Amelia married an extremely wealthy man. Aunt Amelia had been much older than the Viscount and in many ways, she stood as his mother when their own mother died before Eberhard turned ten. Their bond was further strengthened when Amelia, who had no children of her own, took it upon herself to assist his own children, Oliver and Suzanna, upon the death of his wife.
She had been a loving presence in the midst of their grief and provided the feminine support his girls needed when they lost their mother.
“As you well know,” the Viscount continued, “my dear sister was widowed and had no children of her own, which was why she dedicated all her love on all of you.” He took a deep breath and smiled sadly. “As it stands, all of her vast wealth—including that which she acquired during her marriage—has been passed down to me, her only sibling.”
Claire sucked in a deep breath at the news. Aunt Amelia had been ridiculously wealthy when she was alive, although a bit eccentric. She disdained the usual pastimes of other ladies her age—the conniving and condescending dowagers—and stuck mostly to herself in her own manor, emerging only when she wished to visit Ranhold House.
It was Aunt Amelia who first instilled in Claire that just because she was a woman did not mean she could not chase after her own dreams.
“Quite difficult, my dear,” the older woman had told her with a twinkle in her eye. “It will take all of you but not quite impossible, I tell you. Although,” she teased Claire with a light cackle, “you will need quite a bit of money to pull it off.”
Aunt Amelia held quite a special place in her heart and she would never forget the one who first believed in her dreams.
“We are not a very wealthy family but we managed quite well all these years, if I may say so.” The Viscount smiled at them. “Dear Claire is of an age to be married and soon, Trixie.” He held a hand up when his youngest daughter opened her mouth to protest. “With this money, I can set up a sizable dowry for the both of you—enough so you never feel encumbered to make an unhappy match for yourselves.”
He looked both his daughters in the eye. “I just want you both to be happy.”
“Oh Father!” Claire exclaimed, rushing to her father, her tears streaming down her face. “Trixie and I have no problem staying on this estate forever and ever with you!”
“She’s right! I never want to leave!” Trixie spoke in a vehement voice.
The Viscount laughed through his tears and hugged them tighter.
“Oh, my silly little girls. Of course you must leave! You need to go to London for the Season. With this money, you could buy yourselves a new wardrobe that will put you on par with the rest of Society. We could even hold a grand ball for your coming out!”
“What great fun it will be!” Lady Suzanna smiled, wiping tears from her own eyes. “Think of all the balls and parties and soirees we will be attending!”
“You will set the whole of London on fire,” Oliver smiled, even as he felt sad for the Viscount’s loss.
Lord Rowley looked up at him. “I will need to leave posthaste to settle the affairs of my dear departed sister. I trust that I can leave my sweet girls to you, Your Grace?”
“You need not ask it of me, Lord Rowley,” Oliver promised him. “I will watch over Claire and Trixie. They will have the protection of Minsbury, in addition to Ranhold.”
“Thank you so much,” the Viscount beamed at him. “Well then, I need to prepare for my journey. Why don’t you and Lady Suzanna stay for dinner, Your Grace?”
“Thank you so much, Lord Rowley,” Oliver inclined his head.
The older man smiled at him and turned to Claire. “I shall leave you to attend to our guests.”
She nodded and excused herself. As she left, Oliver could not help but follow her silently with his eyes. Indeed, she had grown to be quite a lovely young lady, although she was not what was considered conventionally pretty by the standards of Society.
Claire was possessed of curves that gave her an air of softness. Her olive skin, combined with eyes the color of rich chocolate, gave off an effect of warmth—like she was a gentle flame in the cold winter.
