The Looming Inheritance

By Jennifer Victoria Church

The Sortwell family is expecting a large inheritance from a rich aunt when she dies. The Tarver family, who lives nearby, see how the looming inheritance slowly destroys the Sortwell family. When the aunt dies at long last, the reading of the will reveals a shocking new heir, a cousin of Mrs. Tarver. The Sortwells are ruined. Can they rebuild their lives? And what about the new heir? How did she become the only beneficiary?

 

"A stunning masterpiece about life in Victorian England!" Rachel Summers, newspaper critic.

 

"The consequences of greed, poverty, gambling and alcoholism in a 19th century English town. Jennifer Victoria Church gets better and better with each book!" Thomas Mitchell, online reviewer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blackie Unlimited
• Release date: Nov 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393385974

Book preview

By Jennifer Victoria Church

By Jennifer Victoria Church:

The Umbrella With The Ivory Handle

The Looming Inheritance

The Gypsy’s Prophecy

The House With The Haunted Oak

The Travels Of A Talking Doll

The Legend Of The Diamond Necklace

First published in 2016.

Copyright © 2016 by M.M. Verlaan and Jennifer Victoria Church

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All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.

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Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright holder(s), nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

CONTENTS:

CHAPTER I: NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOURS

CHAPTER II: TRIALS OF COURAGE

CHAPTER III: A MIDNIGHT VISITOR

CHAPTER IV: A SERIOUS LOSS

CHAPTER V: NAMESAKES

CHAPTER VI: THE BREATH OF SLANDER

CHAPTER VII : WHAT CAN IT MEAN

CHAPTER VIII: AUNT ARMSTRONG AGAIN

CHAPTER IX: A TIMELY CONFESSION

CHAPTER X: A SAD STORY

CHAPTER XI: DARK DAYS

CHAPTER XII: HOPE FOR ALL  

CHAPTER I

NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOURS

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I wish—I wish—I wish—oh, dear!

What do you wish, old Judy?

A little, half-apologetic laugh was the only reply.

Come, out with it! It's such a treat to hear our little heartsease wish for anything she hasn't got that we must know what it is, eh, mother?

The first speaker was a tiny girl whose pale, oval face was pitifully sunk in the masses of dark hair that lay upon her deformed shoulders and hunched back. But the large brown eyes looking out from beneath her calm brow were so full of bright intelligence and fun that in meeting their expressive gaze one almost forgot she was a cripple.

The one who answered her was her brother Will, a strong, bonny fellow, eleven or twelve years old, who treasured and cherished her, folks said, as if she had been a bit of gold, which, after all, isn't saying nearly as much as they thought. The cheerful-looking woman seated near the window, engaged upon some very delicate needlework, was the mother of Maisie and Will; and these three comprised the family that occupied the modest upper half of No. 7 Fairlawn Villas, Riversley, in the January of the year before last.

We may as well here observe, to avoid mistake, that no lawn, fair or otherwise, was to be found within a considerable distance of the locality named. The tiny villas contained but six rooms apiece, and possessed a bit of ground about the size of a good big tablecloth at the back. No. 7 was next door to the thriving grocer's shop at the corner of the block; but of this more anon.

I daresay Maisie could wish for a good many things, if she had a mind, said Mrs Tarver, looking across at her little girl, with a rather sad smile.

Oh, I don't know! said Maisie, brightly. I've got nearly everything I want. But they've the duckiest little dolls at Simpson's for sixpence with jointed legs, and I thought—

You thought, I s'pose, Will broke in, unable to resist an opportunity of being funny,  that if you had a sixpence with jointed legs you'd make it run away as fast as it could go."

Maisie laughed and nodded.

And the dollies are just big enough to sleep in that lovely bedstead you made me out of the cardboard box, she added. But if you'll stick Elgiva's head on again for me, I'll make her a new nightgown, and she'll do just as well. But they've got real hair—fancy, for sixpence and they are dears!

The look of wistful longing, unsoured by the slightest tinge of discontent, which would come into the dear, little, patient face at the thought of those captivating dolls, went to the hearts of Will and his mother too. The latter's thoughts ran—One dozen at three and-six; half-a-dozen at five shillings, and three of the best at nine pence each; eight and threepence. And Will must have his boots soled this week, and the coals are getting very low. No, I really don't see that I possibly can! While Willie reflected with unavailing regret that if he hadn't bought that bull's-eye lantern with the last of his Christmas money, perhaps he might have managed it. But he put down the enthralling sea-story that he was reading, to attend there and then to the needs of the headless Elgiva, whom he succeeded, by patience and care, in restoring, as Maisie gratefully said, better than new.

"Just run in next door, Will, and get me a tin