The inheritance

The Suitor

"Father, why is Mr. Harrington here at our home? What is the purpose of his visit?"

"You'll see, my dear, he'll explain it himself in a moment," said Mr. Blackwood with a conspiratorial smile on his lips. But the old man had miscalculated. He had assumed that Alexander had wanted to meet his daughter in order to "propose to her," but the man had entirely different intentions. Alex had resolved to present Barbara with the facts, without any beating around the bush. And to tell her as well that their two fathers had forced them into this situation.

"Come, let us sit down," Mr. Blackwood ushered them into the spacious living room. "Well, look – here is my lovely wife as well. Now you can give her the bouquet, Alex."

The "suitor" had been well raised, and so he graciously presented the bouquet to the lady of the house.

"I brought this for you, as I understand that you are fond of orange flowers."

"How kind of you, I truly thank you. But a bouquet like this must have cost something, you needn't have spent so much on me."

"It is nothing," said the master of the house. "Alexander has plenty to put in his soup. You don't lack for money, do you, my boy?" and he clapped the man on the shoulder.

"My father's business remained mine. Only we work for every last penny of it. And above all, we do not go to horse races," replied Alex evenly. The old man turned pale and muttered something into his mustache.

"Then let us sit down," said Barbara's mother, inviting the guest to take a seat.

"Dear Barbara! I came to tell you a few things which I believe you also have a right to know.

My father left me his fortune and his business in his will. There was only one condition. That I should marry you."

"What? Marry me? I will never be your wife! I love Lewis! We have already secretly become engaged. Don't even think of such a thing – what you're asking is impossible!" Barbara leaped up from her chair.

"My dear girl, please sit down and let us discuss this together," the old man tried to soothe his daughter. "Don't worry, Alexander, Barbara will calm down in a moment and come to her senses. She knows full well what a sizable fortune you inherited from America, and she also knows that Lewis is a nobody – he has no fortune at all, just a simple workman!"

"But I love him! I have barely seen this man a handful of times, this is the first time in my life I have spoken to him! How can you expect me to be his wife??? I don't love him, and I never will!!"

"Barbara. I too am only now hearing your father's harebrained scheme for the first time," said the girl's mother. "But think, my child – your father has lost everything in betting and gambling. We will soon lose this house, because this old fool is an obsessive gambler."

"How dare you speak of me like that, woman?" the old man flared up. "Do you know who I am? I am Blackwood, the industrialist."

"Forgive me – you were Blackwood, the industrialist. Now the whole city laughs at you. Now you are nothing but a hardened gambler who cares nothing for his family, only for the nags at the racecourse."

"That is quite enough!" Alex interjected. "I did not come here to watch you argue! If I do not marry Barbara, then my mother must also move out of our house, and everything I inherited from my father goes to a foundation. Believe me, Barbara, I do not love you either, and I cannot promise that I ever will. I will save your family from ending up on the street. You will have a decent little house once the Blackwood villa is sold."

"That will never happen! You will pay off my debts!" the old man jumped to his feet.

"I? I am marrying your daughter for my mother's sake. You are of no interest to me. What my father requested in his will, I will honor – but nothing more. Let that be clear. In November we will hold the wedding, but under modest circumstances. No party whatsoever. If you want to make a great show of it, you will pay for it yourself, not I! Once we are married, Barbara will move into our house, and I will find you a small cottage on a farmstead, well away from the betting offices. If that suits you, good – if not, give your daughter to Lewis."

"But, but, but what will people say when we don't invite them to Barbara's wedding? What a disgrace this will be for us!" the old man spluttered.

"The real disgrace is that you lost everything we had. The young man Alexander is right. We'll move to the farmstead, and at least we'll spend our old years in peace. Without horses," said his wife.

"Don't I count for anything here?" Barbara wept. "But I love someone else!"

"Forget that good-for-nothing. He has nothing! Alexander is rich, very rich! You'll have a good life with him, you'll see."

"Father, you have nothing left either! Why do you look down on Lewis? He is at least an honest working man. And he has his own home. How am I supposed to tell him now that I won't be his wife?"

"That is your problem, Barbara! Think of us too, not only of yourself!" her father snapped at her.

"Well then, I shall be going, now that we have cleared everything up so nicely. I will be in touch a week before the wedding in November. God bless you all!" Alexander rose to his feet and was already heading out of the spacious living room. Barbara stepped after him.

"Could we exchange a few words?" she asked.

"Of course. I'll wait for you outside in the garden," Alex replied curtly.

Once he had stepped outside the villa, he felt as though a weight had lifted from him. "What a family," he thought to himself. "The old man is still insisting on his own version of events and will never settle down unless someone firmly makes him."

"Don't be angry with my father," Barbara fell into step beside him. "He is just like that. If I remember correctly, he used to take me to the horse races when I was a child, only I didn't like it and I cried that I never wanted to go again. He is a good man at heart, it's just that those horses have completely taken over his mind... But that's not what I want to talk to you about."

"Then what?" asked Alex seriously.

"I want to tell you that I will be your wife – but only so that my family doesn't end up on the street. But you must know that I love someone else, and I will never love you. I am only doing my duty to my family, because I am their only child."

"Barbara, I don't love you either. Don't expect love from me. I accepted this whole marriage for my mother's sake. I love her dearly. You will have a good life with me, but nothing more."

"Then we are agreed," said Barbara, and gave a brief nod by way of farewell, then left Alex standing alone.

The wedding took place on the tenth of November. Afterwards, Barbara's parents moved to a farmstead. Alexander arranged a small house for them. But sadly they did not enjoy their peace together for long, because Barbara's father – the old man – hanged himself one week after the move. He left behind only a brief farewell note in which he wrote: "I am sorry for everything I have done, but I cannot live without the horses."

The Present

The door opened without a knock. Barbara entered, in an elegant grey suit, a string of pearls at her neck, and with that frosty gaze she had spent thirty-three years perfecting.

"I've brought your medical results," she said, and placed the envelope on the desk.

Alex did not turn around.

"Do you know what's in it?"

"I can guess," replied Barbara. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

Alex finally turned. He looked at the woman who was still beautiful at sixty-two. Her blonde hair had turned silver by now, but her face remained smooth, her bearing impeccable. It had always been so. Perfect. Cold. A stranger.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he said calmly. "I have business meetings."

Barbara looked up from the magazine she had been reading. "Again?"

"Yes, again." Alex's voice was neither apologetic nor explanatory. He was simply stating a fact. "When I get back, I want to talk. To the boys, and to you. To everyone. We will have a family meeting."

"About what?" asked Barbara, and in her voice was that subtle suspicion she had spent the years perfecting.

"You'll find out when I get home. I don't know how long I'll be away."

Barbara turned back toward the door and said only this, barely opening her mouth: "You're always travelling. What happens at home doesn't matter to you at all."

Alex did not reply. There was nothing to say – he had heard this sentence a thousand times already, and a thousand times he had realized there was no good answer to it.

The next morning, Alex set off alone. He always went alone – he justified this by saying he didn't trust airplanes, and this way he could drive his own car rather than having to hire one. This was true. Partly.