Chapter 5 - The Uninvited Guests
The news of Blackwood Hall’s extraordinary financial resurrection spread through the aristocratic circles of England like wildfire.
The London Syndicate was dismantled in disgrace by the High Court of York; the corrupt Mayor was ousted; and the discovery of the rich iron ore vein on the northern moors transformed Lord Marcus Vance from a debt-ridden noble into one of the wealthiest landowners in the North.
And at the center of every rumor, every news article, and every whispered conversation in London drawing rooms was the name of Lady Levvenia Ashcroft—the plain, unmarried daughter who had accomplished the impossible.
Back at Ashcroft Manor, however, the world was rapidly collapsing.
Without Levvenia to manage the estate, pay the creditors, supervise the tenants, and restrain Amos’s wild spending, the Ashcroft household had fallen into absolute chaos within two months.
The local butcher refused to deliver meat. The tenant farmers went on strike after Amos attempted to double their rents to cover his gambling debts. The county magistrate issued an execution writ for eight hundred pounds of unpaid taxes, threatening to seize the manor house itself.
And so, on a crisp November morning, a dusty, battered carriage bearing the Ashcroft coat of arms pulled up the long drive of Blackwood Hall.
Levvenia was standing on the grand terrace, discussing the autumn timber harvest with Marcus, when the carriage door swung open.
Out stepped Lady Drusilla, looking worn, frantic, and dressed in a gown that had seen better days. Following her was Amos, looking disheveled and nervous, and Isidora, whose young husband had recently abandoned her at her mother's house after discovering that her promised dowry was entirely non-existent.
Levvenia stood her ground, her arms folded calmly over her chest as her family ascended the stone steps. Marcus stepped up beside her, his tall frame projecting a cold, formidable threat.
"Levvenia!" Drusilla cried out, holding out her gloved hands as if she were a long-lost loving mother. "Oh, thank heaven we found you! You must come home at once! The estate is in ruins! The bailiffs are at the doors, the servants have all departed, and your poor father—"
"My father," Levvenia interrupted calmly, "writes to me every Tuesday. He informs me that he has moved into the gardener's cottage, which he finds far more peaceful than the manor house, and that he has hired an honest young manager using the private allowance I send him every month."
Drusilla’s mouth snapped shut. Her eyes darted nervously to Marcus, who was watching her with undisguised contempt.
Amos stepped forward, trying to affect his old posture of brotherly authority. "Levvenia, be reasonable! You have made your point! You proved you could survive on your own. But you are an Ashcroft! You cannot leave your own mother and brother to face debtor's prison while you live in luxury in Yorkshire!"
"You are not my mother, Amos," Levvenia said sharply, her dark eyes flashing with cold steel. "She died when I was seven. And as for being an Ashcroft—I resigned from that burden on the night of Isidora's wedding."
Isidora stepped forward, tears welling in her eyes. "Levvenia... please. I was foolish. I took everything you gave me for granted. But my husband has left me because Mother lied about my dowry! We have nothing left!"
Levvenia looked at her younger sister. For the first time, she saw true, genuine regret in Isidora's eyes—not just panic over lost luxury, but the painful awakening of a spoiled child forced to see the reality of her own actions.
"Isidora," Levvenia said, her voice softening slightly. "I will not let you starve. I have established an annuity in your name with my lawyers in London. It is enough for you to live comfortably in a small cottage in Westmarch, away from your mother and brother's influence. But you will never touch a single penny of the Ashcroft estate again."
"And what about us?" Drusilla demanded, her face turning purple with rage. "What about your family's honor? What about Amos?"
Marcus took a step forward, his voice dropping to a low, terrifying growl that had once cleared French trenches.
"If you or your son step foot on Blackwood land again, Lady Drusilla," Marcus said, "I will personally enforce the warrants for grand fraud and embezzlement that your late husband's creditors have filed against Amos. I have bought up all of Amos's gambling debts from the London clubs. I own your son's freedom. Do you understand me?"
Amos let out a whimpering gasp, taking three quick steps backward toward the carriage.
Drusilla glared at Levvenia with pure, unadulterated hatred. "You wretched, cold-hearted spinless creature! You think you are safe here? You are nothing but a hired clerk! When Lord Blackwood is finished using your mind, he will cast you aside just as Julian did!"
Levvenia didn't flinch. She looked Drusilla straight in the eye.
"I am no longer afraid of being cast aside, Drusilla," Levvenia said softly. "Because I finally know what I am worth. Goodbye."
May you like
She turned her back on them and walked into the grand hall.
Behind her, Marcus gestured to two large footmen standing near the doors. "Escort these people off my land. If their carriage returns, shoot the horses."
