Chapter 64 Return to London 26 A Blessing in Disguise
Guise looked too crazy, and the people around him, led by Mrs. Clayton, all stepped back a little. Mary squeezed over from the other direction and stood beside her aunt vigilantly. Madeline lowered her head and told the maid to call the security guards.
Heather looked directly at her, her tone tinged with distance and dismay. "It's true I've never heard your name, let alone hated you to the core. But I'm curious, even if I were to hate you, I wouldn't be able to blame a stranger like you, right?"
This sentence completely ignited Gis: "Stranger? You actually call me a stranger? I'm the biological mother of your husband's only son, the woman he's loved for over a decade. You should have been tossing and turning in bed day and night, chanting my name, because I was the one he was supposed to marry! You're just lucky!"
Madeleine's security had arrived, and for the safety of all the guests, they had apprehended the aggressive Guise. Hazel looked at the woman, screaming hysterically and refusing to leave, and said in a moderately loud voice, "So you're the Earl's mistress, not some unmarried woman raising her nephew in her sister's place."
The contempt of the people around her became even stronger. Many people expressed sympathy for Heather, who had been kept in the dark for ten years and had a 9-year-old illegitimate child for no apparent reason. An old lady even came over to introduce her to a new partner with a reliable character to help her get out of her failed marriage.
Mrs. Clayton couldn't accept that she had been working like a fool for half the night. She pushed aside the people blocking her way and walked up to Heather.
"Mrs. Lawrence, I was deceived by that liar just now, and I caused you to be frightened." She gritted her teeth and squeezed out an ambiguous apology, then changed the subject: "However, that Guise does not deserve sympathy. This Master Leo is truly the Earl's only bloodline. Now that the Earl has unfortunately passed away, even for the sake of ethics and morality, he should be rescued from that terrible woman."
Heather looked at the child who was pulled out and still had a confused look on his face, and seriously wondered if he had some kind of attention disorder. Oh, or maybe his English was too poor.
Seeing that Heather didn't say anything, Mrs. Clayton became more and more demanding. She was not satisfied with letting Heather raise the child. She wanted to help the child get what belonged to him.
Mrs. Clayton glanced to the left. "Although illegitimate children theoretically have no inheritance rights, individual cases should be treated differently. Not to mention that this young gentleman is a boy, even Miss Wellesley is said to have inherited a considerable fortune. This matter caused quite a stir at the time. Otherwise, how could so many respectable gentlemen have proposed to marry him?"
"Mrs. Lawrence, as Miss Wellesley's good friend, you should agree with this arrangement, right?"
Clayton almost couldn't help but applaud his own idea after he finished speaking. This way, Mrs. Lawrence would either have to endure the disgust and divide the illegitimate son's property, or not care about her reputation and resolutely not give it. In short, she and her good friend would never be able to reconcile after today.
Heather frowned. She hadn't expected Anna to be dragged into this matter. How much did Mrs. Clayton hate Anna? Anna had always considered herself a true friend. Heather took a step forward and was about to speak.
"Wait a moment."
Heather turned around and saw that it was Anna who had stepped forward first. The people in front of her automatically made way for her, allowing her to reach Mrs. Clayton effortlessly.
"Martha, I know you've always been jealous of my father adding my name to his will, because you won't get anything except a meager dowry, and everything will go to your brother."
Mrs. Clayton was about to curse, but Anna raised her hand to stop her. She held her head high and said calmly, "You've gone through so much trouble to embarrass Mrs. Lawrence, and it's all because of me. Are you jealous that there are always people who like me and are willing to be my friend?"
Mrs. Clayton looked grim.
"Illegitimate children shouldn't have inheritance rights. This is the agreement that truly complies with public order and good morals. My father ignored the agreement and included me in his will because I was his only child. This was his love, but I shouldn't have accepted it with such complacency."
Heather looked over in surprise, and Mrs. Clayton was also stunned, as if she suddenly didn't understand what she was saying.
Anna usually seemed cheerful and unreliable, but at this moment she was unusually calm and composed, not much worse than a young lady raised by a true aristocrat.
"Today's events have indeed touched me deeply, so I have decided to give up my inheritance rights under the will and transfer them to Mrs. Bonnie Wellesley."
Mrs. Clayton couldn't believe that Anna had given up something she had been holding onto so easily. "Are you kidding me? That's a fortune you couldn't accumulate in several lifetimes!"
Anna sneered, "Yes, but so what? I've lived well enough without the money. I've never been complacent about it. It's you, Martha, I dare say, who cares most about other people's pockets in London."
Mrs. Clayton scanned the room with her eyes and finally spotted Bonnie Wellesley standing silently at the edge. She was Anna's father's second wife. Everyone knew that she had a distant relationship with the general's only daughter, and Anna had once rejected her promising marriage proposal.
"Mrs. Wellesley, did you hear that? Anna herself agreed to give up the inheritance. If I were you, I would have a lawyer come over with pen and paper and have us sign the transfer agreement right now. Otherwise, someone might deny it after today!"
Mrs. Wellesley herself came from an old aristocratic family. She had no children, was serious and unsociable, but even so, she had lived for more than 40 years and had several relatives and friends in London who were influential.
Standing next to her was a Viscountess: "Mrs. Clayton, this is extremely rude. Why do you young people involve your elders in the grudges between you?"
Mrs. Clayton ignored her and continued to look at Mrs. Wellesley stubbornly.
Mrs. Wellesley stared at her for a few seconds, then finally spoke as she had hoped. "Her father has the final say on the inheritance. I can't decide, and neither can she. If it can be arbitrarily changed by a few words from others, what's the point of having a will?"
There was no emotion in her voice, but Anna looked over in surprise. Her stepmother was a stubborn and strict noblewoman, and she had always been disgusted with Anna's lawlessness, indulged by her father. Who would have thought that she would be so unmoved by such a large fortune and even speak up for her in such an occasion?
Unable to find a way out with them, Mrs. Clayton turned to Hazel and continued her nagging. "In that case, we should learn from Mrs. Wellesley. Forget about the bank assets; she also has trusts in France. But I heard from Guise that Earl Lawrence has an estate in England. Because of the limited inheritance, the house can only be inherited by men. Why not let Mr. Lawrence inherit directly?"
Heather was almost amused by her. She talked for so long and acted so wholeheartedly as if she was the child's mother.
The banquet hall was in a state of stalemate when suddenly a voice came from the second floor: "I'm afraid Mrs. Lawrence can't decide the affairs of the manor."
This remark caught the attention of the two groups in the middle of the dance floor, who were confused about who was winning. They all looked up and noticed that, since some unknown moment, a group of masked gentlemen had been stationed at the second-floor railing. They had originally returned to the card table, bored by the clichéd plot, but were captivated by the subsequent twists and turns, putting down their cards and watching from the second floor. However, the gentlemen, self-conscious of their status, remained silent.
The voice continued, "There's no legitimate male heir to the house. The only person who could possibly claim it is not only an illegitimate child but also one whose parents are French. Imperial law would never grant him special treatment. In my opinion, no matter how hard we fight for it, it should be nationalized."
The person who was speaking was standing in the shadow at the stairs, wearing the simplest black mask, half leaning against the railing, his figure flickering in the afterglow of the crystal chandelier, and his voice was vague and tired, as if he was tired of the endless arguments.
The gentlemen who had just been complaining about the dullness of the conversation became more interested when discussing the state and the law. One portly gentleman remarked, "That's right. Didn't that woman claim to be from a great French aristocratic family? Maybe once the hype is over, she'll sell the estate and take the money back home. Then we'll be at a loss."
Mrs. Stoker's husband added, "It would be better to give it to Mrs. Lawrence; at least it's still in British hands."
Mr. Mask in the corner added, "Mrs. Lawrence has been concealed for ten years. Out of humanitarian concern, we cannot deprive the widow of her property. If we ask the Relief Committee to review the case and resell the reclaimed estate to her at a low price, it will better demonstrate the Empire's acceptance of its people."
A gentleman working on the relief committee agreed, saying that a mere manor was nothing. The committee had recently caused some controversy when dealing with a group of refugees, and helping a lady who had some connections in the upper social circle could help them restore a lot of reputation.
Heather glanced at the masked man who had quietly left after completing his mission, and understood the meaning of the message. She said to the member of the relief committee, "I am very grateful for that, sir. I will definitely go to the relief committee in person to express my gratitude and organize a charity relief event in the committee's name."
At this point, both parties were satisfied with the result, except for Mrs. Clayton, who was so angry that she gritted her teeth, but she could not find any other loopholes.
Heather found Lancaster on the rooftop. He had taken off his mask and was waiting quietly facing the stairs leading to the rooftop.
Heather shrank back, tucked her hands into her sleeves, squinted her eyes and asked deliberately, "Are you ashamed to be seen? Why don't you stay down there? I was going to ask you to dance!"
Lancaster knew she didn't really want to be the center of attention at this moment, but he certainly wasn't very presentable. At least half the men present had seen him before, and one or two important members of Parliament might have been suspicious just by looking at his figure. He had originally expected to be greeted by dim lights and a crowded crowd, perhaps even catching a dance in the chaos, but now he had completely given up hope.
Lancaster exhaled a breath of white air. "No wonder the people sent to France couldn't find their whereabouts. It turns out they had sneaked here. Fortunately, you were prepared."
Heather's smile faded slightly.
Prepared in advance? No, the key preparations were actually completed yesterday, and 90% of them were delivered directly to me by others.
The mask box contained not only the trust registration document but also a letter from Baringdon Bank declaring the trust null and void. Apparently, someone had leaked the information, causing the trust to be confiscated along with Lawrence's assets. Who knew where the money ended up? However, we would have to wait for Guise to return to France and come to him.
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