Sir Edmund continued.
“Margaret was a remarkable woman, but she had no understanding of commercial development.”
Clara's face went white.
“My mother understood perfectly well what she was doing.”
“She built a school upon land that could have produced ten times the income!”
“She built a school because she believed children were worth more than the income.”
Sir Edmund laughed bitterly.
“A charming sentiment. But sentiment does not pay creditors.”
Julian moved beside Clara.
“Enough.”
Sir Edmund turned toward him.
“Your Grace, you must understand. The estate is not secure. There are obligations you cannot meet without new revenue.”
“Then I shall meet them another way.”
“You cannot.”
“Watch me.”
Sir Edmund looked at him.
For a moment, the older man seemed genuinely astonished.
Then his expression hardened.
“You are throwing away the one chance to preserve your inheritance because this girl has persuaded you to play the benevolent landlord.”
Julian stepped closer.
“No.”
His voice was very quiet.
“I am refusing to steal from my tenants and my prospective wife.”
Sir Edmund laughed contemptuously.
“Your prospective wife? Do you imagine society will applaud this little performance? The girl disguised herself as a servant. She has made herself ridiculous. I have only to speak a few words in London, and half the ton will turn its back upon her.”
Clara felt the old fear rise.
The fear that had haunted every young woman taught that her reputation depended upon the opinions of people who might never know her.
But before she could speak, Julian answered.
“Then you may tell them the truth.”
Sir Edmund stared.
Julian continued.
“Tell them that Miss Langley came to my house, listened to me speak unkindly of her, and had the courage to challenge me.”
He took another step.
“Tell them she discovered theft where I saw orderly accounts. Tell them she defended a servant I had failed to protect. Tell them she saved the children of Mereford from losing their homes.”
His voice hardened.
“And when you have finished, tell them that I was fortunate enough to recognize her worth before I lost her.”
Clara stared at him.
Sir Edmund's face reddened.
“You would sacrifice your reputation?”
Julian looked directly at him.
“I would rather lose the good opinion of a hundred fools than the respect of one honorable woman.”
The silence that followed was profound.
Clara felt tears rise unexpectedly.
She blinked them away.
Sir Edmund looked from her to Julian.
Then toward the door.
Mr. Whitford spoke.
“I should advise you not to leave the county, Sir Edmund.”
The older man turned.
“You cannot detain me.”
“I do not propose to do so. But the evidence of the forged correspondence and misappropriated funds will be placed before the magistrates. Your absence would be most unfortunate.”
Sir Edmund's mouth tightened.
Outside, another carriage approached.
Two local constables stepped down, accompanied by the village magistrate, who had been summoned by one of Julian's riders.
Sir Edmund looked at them.
For a moment, he seemed prepared to protest.
Then he saw the copybook in Mr. Whitford's hands.
His shoulders sank.
“Very well,” he said quietly.
He looked at Clara one final time.
“I did what I believed necessary.”
Clara met his eyes.
“No.”
Her voice was steady.
“You did what you believed you could get away with.”
He had no answer.
The weeks that followed were difficult.
There was no miraculous restoration of the missing money.
No sudden discovery of an enormous hidden fortune.
The legal proceedings against Sir Edmund Cross and Silas Vane required patient investigation, formal testimony, and the examination of documents stretching back several years.
Vane was eventually found in Bristol, where he had attempted to obtain passage aboard a merchant vessel.
He was returned to face allegations concerning the forged instruments and stolen funds.
Sir Edmund's creditors began pressing their claims.
The navigation company, alarmed by the revelations, suspended the proposed works.
Mr. Whitford began proceedings to protect the Langley property and recover whatever trust money remained.