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we must take to court. My father had a younger brother.
Uncle Jim was raised with my father and treated by my grandfather as one of the
family. My grandmother was deceased, but Jim’s mother never lived with us. I
had assumed he was illegitimate, but I could be wrong. If he has been acting in
my father’s place, it’s to be expected that everyone will assume my father
looked on him as his heir. Knowing my father, he may even have even encouraged
that belief, since he had only daughters when he left. I doubt that proof one
way or another can be found.”
    Summerby clasped his hands over his paunch and waited.
    Satisfied that he understood the first part of her
difficulty, she continued. “Jim is not educated but he knows how to grab
advantages, even if they may be illegal. He will not willingly release any
control of the estate that he’s achieved. One of the many reasons I adored
Edward when I married him was that he legally bound and gagged Jim so
thoroughly that he’s not once come after me for money. I found this document in
Edward’s files after his death.” She shoved a piece of paper across the desk.
    Summerby scanned it. “Edward was a brilliant businessman, no
doubt about it. So part of your settlement was that this uncle was granted a
life estate in the earl’s land as long as he made no demands on you or yours.”
    “Which is why I’ve never inquired into my father’s affairs.
The lands were not part of my dowry, and I had no wish to ever speak with Uncle
Jim. The man is a lazy bully with a nasty temper. I was happy to be rid of
him.”
    “But now . . . you have a little brother who
will inherit those lands, and when he comes of age, he will have some say in
their management. And this personage may even attempt to disqualify the boy’s
legitimacy.”
    Bell took a deep breath and tried not to cry. “Not only
that. There is plenty of time to worry over land management, and I don’t doubt
our eventual ability to establish Kit’s claim. My concern is more immediate. I
have just learned that . . .” How did she say it without
sounding a fool? “I had a mare, a powerful Thoroughbred I raised and nurtured after
her dam died when I was only fifteen. Little Dream won every race I ever
entered except that last one.” When the mare had stepped into a mud hole and
thrown Bell over her head, thus losing the match, the farm, and her freedom,
but that was neither here nor there.
    Summerby frowned and polished his glasses. Courteously, he
waited.
    “When Edward agreed that my father could take all his
animals with him, he told me that Little Dream was part of the bargain, and that
I could not keep her.”
    The mare had been the mother and confidante Bell had never
had, the freedom and independence that had saved her sanity, the proof that she
was more than an uneducated worthless female. Losing the horse had been akin to
losing herself.
    She’d tried to understand her father’s decision at the time.
Little Dream had been extremely valuable. Her family needed the money her horse
could earn. She’d bit back her tears, surrendered a little piece of her soul,
and grown up quickly.
    Taking a deep breath and letting her eyes dry, she continued
with determination. “I have just learned that the mare was with foal and
couldn’t be taken, so my father left her with Uncle Jim. I want her back. I
want her and her offspring back. And
I will not take no for an answer. Jim is a brute who beats animals. He has no
doubt ruined my mare, but I will not let her die at his hands if it can be
prevented.”
    Summerby nodded and began taking notes.
    ***
    With the letter from his father scorching a hole in his
coat pocket, Quent strode stiffly toward the Belden townhouse. He clenched his
walking stick so hard, he had to loosen his grip so as not to break the
expensive piece.
    He despised having his hand forced. He’d requested that his
father be reasonable and give him time to find a compromise. But no, the old
man had