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Remi pulled a folder from her briefcase. “Matters pertaining to what happens if an heir dies. The sort of thing I’m not sure is entirely appropriate for children to hear.”
Dex appeared unmoved.
Allegra, seeing her chance, realized she needed to be careful—firm enough that her son listened but not too concerned that Dex would take notice. “Do be a dear, Trev, and run up to the attic. There’s some headache powder by my pillow.”
When he hesitated, she looked at Dex, saying, “He listens to you.”
The backhanded compliment worked. Dex gave him a curt nod. “Off with you, then.”
Allegra kept her eyes on the papers Remi held, worry turning to relief when Trevor did as he was told.
Remi smiled as she handed them each a packet of papers, saying, “Because your son’s not of age, it’s important that you both understand the clause concerning the rules of inheritance regarding the viscountcy.”
“What’s there to understand?” Dex said. “His uncle’s giving him the car.”
“All this does is temporarily allow the Viscount’s grandnephew to take early possession of what will eventually be his, should Oliver Payton die without issue.”
“What do you mean, early possession? Won’t the car be Trevor’s once this is signed?”
“Technically, no,” she said, removing two pens from her briefcase, holding one out to each of them. “The vehicle is part of the Payton estate and can only be passed down to an heir. Should anything happen to that heir, it goes to the next heir.”
“Me. His father.”
“Blood heir of the viscountcy. In other words, if something happens to the remaining Payton men, should the current viscount die, the title and estates and everything attached to it, including the car and any money, will pass to the closest blood relative.”
“Who’d that be?” Dex asked.
“I expect the Payton family would know better than I . . .” She looked at Allegra. “Madam?”
“As far as I know,” Allegra said, “Arthur Oren is our closest blood relative.”
“Over my dead body,” Dex replied, taking the pen. “Where do I sign?”
“The last page,” Remi said. He quickly turned to it, and she added, “Might I suggest you read the entire document first?”
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to have done before you got here?” He signed it, then looked up at her, his expression one of annoyance. “There’s a space here for Trevor’s signature.”
Remi gave him a neutral smile. “We will need the boy’s signature, before it’s legal. I assumed the two of you might want to discuss things prior.”
“Trevor!” he called, as Remi’s cell phone buzzed on the tabletop.
She picked it up, looking at the screen. “My husband. Probably wondering when I’ll be home,” she said, putting it to her ear. “Hello?” She smiled politely at them while she listened to the caller. “Oh, I thought they weren’t coming until tomorrow. No worry, I’m almost done here. See you soon.” She ended the call, her expression apologetic. “I hate to be a pest, but I’m quite late, and it seems we have unexpected visitors dropping by. My husband’s worried he’s going to have to entertain them himself. If it’s more convenient, I can drop by in the morning . . . ?”
“No,” Dex said, as he stalked toward the stairs. “Trevor! Get down here!”
His back to them, Remi gave a slight tilt of her head.
Allegra nodded. She knew Dex would never dare leave her alone down here with anyone he didn’t know and trust. “I’ll just pop up there and see what’s keeping him so long,” she said, resisting the urge to move any faster for fear of putting Dex on guard.
Mustering every bit of calm and strength she possessed, she looked right at Dex as she passed him. “Probably in the loo,” she said quietly, casually walking up the stairs. “Trevor!” she called, glancing back to see Dex watching her. When she reached the first-floor landing, she made a show of looking in the bathroom, then down the stairwell, noticing Dex had moved up two steps. “Not there. I’ll check in the attic.”
He moved up another step.
Worried, Allegra rounded the corner, picked up her pace, taking the stairs quickly. When she reached the attic, she pushed open the door, looked around the dark room, unable to see a thing. “Trevor?” Her panicked whisper cut through the silence, as someone stepped from behind the door. Sam, she realized, her hand going to her heart as it raced out of control. She saw the pried-open casement window, the rope harness hanging in it. “Is he—”
“Safe? Yes,” he said. “Let’s get you out of here.”
He drew her to the window, helping her into the harness, though she tried to stop him. “Arthur and Colton are coming. They’ll recognize her. She’ll be trapped.”