Lillian took a breath.
“Because I found another name in Father’s papers.”
“What name?”
“Mercer.”
The knock came before Lillian could explain.
Three deliberate taps.
Both sisters froze.
“Lillian?”
James Mercer.
Lillian opened the door.
James stepped inside.
Behind him stood Judge Barrow.
And behind the judge—
Beatrice.
Silas.
And Silas’s father, Horace Crowe.
Beatrice’s face was terrifyingly calm.
“What exactly,” she asked, “are you girls doing?”
Lillian moved instinctively closer to Evelyn.
Horace Crowe saw the papers.
His expression changed.
“Where did you get those?”
That was enough.
Evelyn understood.
“You knew.”
Horace said nothing.
“You knew about Father’s real will.”
Beatrice stepped forward.
“Evelyn, give me those papers.”
“No.”
One word.
Perhaps the most important word Evelyn had spoken in nine years.
Her mother stopped.
“Excuse me?”
Evelyn’s heart hammered.
But she repeated it.
“No.”
Silas stepped into the room.
“Lillian, this is ridiculous. Give Mrs. Hartwell the papers and let us return downstairs.”
Lillian stared at the man she had agreed to marry.
“You knew too?”
“Knew what?”
“My father’s will.”
“Of course not.”
Horace said sharply, “Silas.”
But the warning came too late.
Lillian held up a document.
“Then why does this transfer agreement already list you as controlling partner of the Red Willow parcel after our wedding?”
Silas’s face emptied.
James Mercer looked at him.
Very slowly.
Judge Barrow removed his spectacles.
“May I see that?”
Lillian handed it over.
Silas moved forward.
His father caught his arm.
“No.”
The old banker knew when a battle was lost.
Beatrice did not.
“This family’s finances are none of James Mercer’s concern.”
James answered quietly.
“They became my concern the moment someone attempted to sell me land belonging to another person.”
Beatrice stiffened.
James looked at Evelyn.
“My father and Samuel Hartwell were partners when they first came west.”
Evelyn frowned.
“Father never said that.”
“They separated their holdings before you were born. Friendly separation. But they signed an agreement. If either man died while his children were still minors, the other would serve as outside trustee for any disputed land transfer.”
He looked down.
“My father died three years after yours.”
Judge Barrow’s expression sharpened.
James continued.
“I inherited his papers last winter. Most were packed in storage. Six weeks ago, I found Samuel Hartwell’s original trust agreement.”
Beatrice’s face had gone gray.
James turned toward her.
“I wondered why the county record did not match it.”
Horace Crowe suddenly moved toward the door.
Judge Barrow blocked his path.
“I wouldn’t.”
Horace glared.
“On what authority?”
The judge smiled without warmth.
“The authority of a man increasingly interested in what appears to be fraudulent transfer of property.”
Silas stared at Lillian.
“You did this?”
She met his gaze.
“I invited everyone downstairs.”
“What?”
“The judge. The councilmen. Mr. Mercer. Your father.”
Silas’s face twisted.
“You arranged your own engagement party as a trap?”
Lillian shook her head.
“No. Mother arranged the party.”
Then she looked at Evelyn.
“I simply made certain the right witnesses were present when she finally showed everyone exactly how she treated the woman whose property she was stealing.”
Evelyn could not speak.
