Mr. Stewart, Charles’ solicitor for the past twenty years, read from the document he held in front of him. He lifted his eyes then, directing his gaze briefly toward the grey-haired woman seated to Melody’s right. Melody glanced at Charles’ sister from the corner of her eye, noting the look of satisfaction upon the older woman’s face. They had met for the first time the day before, when she and her son had arrived at Edgington for Charles’ funeral. The meeting had been awkward to say the least. On the surface, Lavinia had been coolly polite, but there had been a definite undertone of dislike, perhaps even contempt, that Melody had not failed to miss. Her son Nelson Bingham, Viscount Hattford’s attitude however, had been blatantly hostile. He’d glanced at her enlarged midsection with loathing in his eyes before the introductions had even been made. He sat now, on the other side of Lavinia, leaning slightly forward, his expression anxious as he waited for Mr.
