The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(14)



He greeted her, gestured for her to take one of the wide wooden chairs that sat in front of his desk, and then gathered up five sheets of parchment. A bloody fingerprint marred the back of one sheet.

“A messenger delivered this to me earlier today,” he said, fishing out a pair of spectacles so he could read. “I didn’t send for you until I’d personally visited both your bank and the city clerk to ascertain the truth of the matter.” His shoulders sagged. “I regret to inform you that your husband is dead.”

Dead. The hit of shock faded quickly as a host of possibilities emerged. Without James in the way, Dinah would be the true head of the Chauveau family. She could make sweeping decisions without forging his signature or manipulating him to give the orders she wanted him to give. She could stop worrying that he’d make a mistake that could cost her everything she’d worked toward. She could—

Her solicitor cleared his throat, and Dinah’s gaze snapped to him.

“Thank you for informing me. I suppose we’ll have to wait for the reading of his will before—”

“James was murdered,” he said. “By the creditors he was indebted to.”

She drew back. “How could James possibly have accrued enough debt to be worth killing? I had him on a very strict allowance.”

Her solicitor looked at the stack of parchment. “I’m afraid he fell in with someone far more clever than he. Whoever was floating him the money he used to gamble gave him the idea to forge your signature.”

A quick slice of panic left her shaking. “What did he do?”

“He deeded all your property back into his name and then used it as insurance against his gambling. He also cleaned out your bank account. I’m afraid all you have left to your name is whatever coin you have at your home and whatever valuables you can pack up before the new owners move in.”

“New owners.” Her voice was a whisper of its former self. Stupid, self-serving, lazy fool of a man. If she’d known he’d cause this much trouble, she’d have killed him herself before he ever had a chance to ruin her.

“I’m afraid it gets worse.” Her solicitor cleared his throat and handed her the parchment.

Worse? How could it possibly get worse? He’d bankrupted her right before her final bid for the royal betrothal. Everything she’d worked for, everything she’d sacrificed for, was disappearing in front of her eyes. She glanced down at the parchment and froze.

The solicitor’s voice was sympathetic. “I’m afraid some of his debt remains, and as collateral, he put up—”

“My daughters.” Her voice shook with fury.

“They will be claimed for their family name. Once the inquiry into James’s death is finished, the creditor—a Mr. Dubois—will own your mansion, your business interests, and your bank account. When he claims a daughter in marriage, he’ll own the Chauveau quarter as well.”

“Not if he’s dead.” She stood abruptly, rage snaking through her blood like fire.

“He’s quite well guarded, my lady. His message this morning said that he knows you are the force behind the Chauveau empire and that if he feels threatened in any way, one of your daughters will be the next to die.”

Dinah crumpled the parchment in her hand, her pulse pounding against her ears until it drowned out every thought except for a single word: powerless.

Her vision narrowed, her mouth went dry, and every breath she took fought a battle against the fist of panic that was squeezing her chest.

Unless she could pay off James’s debts before the inquiry finished, she would lose her wealth, her empire, and her quarter. Once word reached the queen about Dinah’s ruined status, she’d lose any chance at the betrothal as well.

She had a few weeks before the estate would come up for review before the royal magistrate.

She needed coin, and she needed it fast. No creditor would loan her any. Not when she’d lost all her collateral. And she couldn’t go to the rest of the Chauveau family because the bulk of their wealth had been tied to her empire, so they would be nearly destitute too. It was unthinkable to ask another head family for help. She might as well roll over and show a rabid wolf her soft underbelly and then wait for her blood to spill.

No, she’d have to find a different way to get enough gold to pay off her husband’s debts, ransom her daughters out of Mr. Dubois’s heinous contract, and restore her position before anyone was the wiser. Maybe there were businesses James hadn’t known about that she could quickly sell. Maybe one of her contacts in Akram, Ravenspire, or Súndraille would be willing to float her a loan, though the thought of being so far in debt to any of them was sickening.

Or maybe there was a faster source of coin right here in Falaise de la Mer if she was willing to do whatever it took to get her hands on it. She’d killed before to get what she needed. She could do it again.





SIX

RESTLESSNESS CHURNED INSIDE Kellan as he dictated his response to yet another invitation for dinner or tea or . . . he’d forgotten precisely what he’d been invited to this time. It hardly mattered. It would be another test. Another game where the lies were pretty, the questions were pointed, and the calculation was shrewd. He’d smile, flirt, parry, and test the waters of loyalty and power with pointed questions of his own, just as he’d been doing every day since he’d returned home.

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