Magnificent Devices 01 - Lady of Devices

he invited Claire to pour. When she had handed the cups around, he took a sip and began.
    “His Lordship entrusted the bulk of his business dealings to this firm, as well as his personal instruments. Following the reading of the will, I am happy to be in a position to apprise you of your situation—would it be appropriate to do so now, or should I wait for a more convenient time?”
    Beneath the shroud of her black point d’esprit veil, Lady St. Ives’s head drooped. On her knee, her tea in its delicate Sèvres cup cooled, untouched.
    Claire cleared her throat. “Mr. Arundel, my mother’s spirits may be taxed by such an apprisal, but I assure you it is necessary. This morning we were accosted by a number of dunner-men at our very door. It’s imperative we learn of the state in which my father left his affairs so we can end such nonsense.”
    Mr. Arundel eyed her, then Lady St. Ives. “Very well. Shall we begin?” At her mother’s nod, he went on, “His lordship’s will is fairly straightforward. Gwynn Place, of course, goes to the infant Viscount in its entirety—lands, house, incomes and rents. Since Carrick House came into the family after the marriage of yourself and the late viscount, it goes to you, Lady St. Ives, with the proviso that it go to Lady Claire upon your decease, even if you should marry again and have, er, issue by that marriage.”
    Claire had not expected this. She’d thought the lot would go to Nicholas. Goodness. The prospect of a house to depend upon in her middle years—or a refuge now should she prevail and be allowed to go to university—was a gift she had not considered in all her wildest dreams.
    “There are, of course, the usual small bequests to the servants, and a marriage portion for Lady Claire when she reaches eighteen years of age in the autumn.” Mr. Arundel paused to fold up the creamy sheets of the will. “Which brings me to the next, rather less straightforward part of our meeting today. My lady, are you sure you can bear this now?”
    Her mother cleared her throat, as though she was not quite certain her voice would work properly. She lifted her veil and placed it carefully on the wide, heavily decorated brim of her black straw hat. “Quite sure, thank you, Mr. Arundel.” Finally, she took a sip of tea.
    Claire poured herself a second cup.
    “Very well. How familiar are you with the business operations of the Persia-Albion Petroleum Company?”
    “Not at all. My late husband was often in the Lords, voting on matters that concerned it, but he did not share his affairs with me.”
    “Ah. Had you heard, then, of the collapse of what they are calling the Arabian Bubble?”
    “No, Mr. Arundel.” Lady St. Ives passed a hand over her bone-white brow. “Could we get to the point, please?”
    “Quite.” The lines of sympathy in his face smoothed out a trifle. “The point, then, is that as its principal investor, the bulk of His Lordship’s capital was tied up in the Persia-Albion Petroleum Company. He believed deeply in the future of petroleum and its application to the combustion engine. Unfortunately, any and all models of this engine have been failures, and some have even resulted in fatalities. The public, once so enthusiastically in its favor, has turned the tide of its opinion, pulling its support. Two Fridays ago it was discovered that all public shares of the Company were worth less than the paper they were printed on, and the entire enterprise collapsed. Your husband’s capital, and that of the other investors, has gone to pay the public debt. In short, my lady, it appears that you will have no source of income to ease your widowhood.”
    “No source of income.” Impossible. “What about Gwynn Place? Our family has been living on the income from that for centuries.”
    “Your father mortgaged it to invest in the P.A.P.C. When all the debts are settled, you will be fortunate indeed to have the house itself. I have already been approached by prospective buyers for the land.”
    Lady St. Ives lifted her head. “Mr. Arundel, I may be Londoner born and bred, but even I know that an estate without its lands cannot support itself. I forbid you to sell any property attached to Gwynn Place. It is my son’s heritage.”
    He inclined his head. “Very astute of you, my lady. That will mean, of course, that Carrick House will have to be sold immediately.”
    The bottom dropped out of Claire’s stomach. “How soon is immediately?”
    “By month’s