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Chapter 32: A Day in Court

Hever House, London England October 1838

—Zachary Princeton,

"No! I won't say it again, now get out of my house."

"I am your oldest friend, I cannot in good conscience let you continue with this stubborn plan anymore."

"And you wonder why I chose Oliver over you to be executor. Damn your good intentions, Robert! I am not changing my will."

"Be reasonable Zach, she's been dead for eight years. What is the point of dragging it out when you know how this will end?"

"Are you so devoid of imagination that you haven't figured it out by now? It is because it is unreasonable that I won't change my mind. That's the point!"

"How can you be so petty?"

"Have we just met?"

"Come on, Edmund Hale is a good man who doesn't deserve to be bullied out of what will be his by right. Even for you, this has become ridiculous."

"Has it, has it really?" he leaned forward, brown eyes narrowing.

"Why should I make it easier for him to get what is mine, what has always been mine, and what should only have gone to the child that was mine?"

His voice was rough and raw with hatred.

"You all expect me to roll over and happily hand my family's inheritance to that fanatical puritan just to make it easier on the rest of you. Well to hell with that. I intend to make my death as difficult on the world as it made life for me."

He fell back against his chair but continued to glare at his friend who watched him with a pained expression.

"Zach, I know you will never get over what happened, but this isn't the way to deal with your grief. Believe me, I understand your loss but—"

"Do you Robert? Oh, that's right, I had forgotten that our lives are entirely the same. Why don't you remind me how before going back to your living wife and son."

Robert Queen let out a defeated sigh before playing his last card.

"It looks bad, a stain on your name and reputation. This isn't what Hippolyta would have wanted."

Zachary choked out a harsh laugh.

"This is exactly what Hippolyta would have wanted." His watery eyes shone bright with bitter regret. "For me to die alone and angry and see everything I have...*sharp breath...go to someone else."

He shook as a coughing fit attacked and he reached for the glass of water beside his lounge chair.

"But I don't have to accept my daughter's death as fair, or an act of providence, or whatever bloody words fools use to console themselves. This is the only thing I have left to fight back with. It was supposed to be hers, not theirs, and they will have to fight to take it."

"Even if it's a fight you know you cannot win?"

Zachary Princeton turned a bemused smile to his friend as if Robert was the one to be pitied.

"Isn't that all life is?"

His friend stood.

"Fine, I give up. Do whatever you want Zach."

"I intend to. Now, Get. Out."

Robert nodded, knowing he wouldn't be welcome here again.

"Goodbye Princeton."

Zachary's face softened slightly.

"Enjoy your family Queen."

The door closed and he was alone. Good, he liked it better this way, when had that happened?

There was a soft knock before the door creaked open again.

The irritated retort died on his lips, replaced with a broad grin, when a blonde head popped out from behind the door, gray eyes dancing with mischief.

"Canary?"

"Hello, Uncle Zach!"

The girl skipped across the floor and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"And what are you doing here?" he asked, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

"Oh," she sing-song-ed as she wandered around the room, "I wanted to check up on you."

"Mhm," Zachary grunted with a knowing smirk. "Top left of the fireplace mantle."

She flashed him a guilty smile as she plucked the pipe from the marble ledge, lit it, and happily puffed away as she made her way back across the rug to her uncle.

He held out his hand and quirked an eyebrow expectantly. Reluctantly she handed over the pipe before making herself comfortable, sitting on the arm of his chair.

He took a few long drags of the tobacco before removing a tin of peppermints from his waistcoat and handing them to his niece.

"I would hate to give your mother even more reason to think I'm a bad influence."

She took a mint and shrugged.

"She doesn't care what I do."

"And where is the Captain?" He wondered why Benjamin hadn't come up with his daughter. "Did he get stopped by Robert downstairs? Poor chap."

"No, Papa is with his regiment."

Zachary nearly choked on his pipe, staring horrified at the girl's nonchalant face.

"Do you mean to tell me that you came here by yourself?"

She laughed and took the pipe from his hand, enjoying another inhale.

He snatched it back.

"I know the way; I've done it before."

"By god's teeth Dinah, it's half-way across London, never mind if it is the better half it's still dangerous for a young girl to be out alone."

Dinah laughed and patted his arm.

"I can take care of myself. Besides, it's deadly dull cooped up in the house all day. You wouldn't even know Mama was there if it weren't for her stacks of books shifting."

"Not that she's great company." He snorted while his niece laughed.

"It's not all bad. I do what I want, and she does what she wants, neither need to see each other unless convenient."

Zachary gave a hearty laugh that unfortunately turned into another coughing fit. Distressed, Dinah took the pipe from his fingers.

"Should I call for the doctor?" she asked heading toward the door.

"No…*cough…no, it will pass."

He motioned her back, and she resumed her place on the chair arm.

"You shouldn't smoke so much." She scolded.

"And you shouldn't smoke at all." He again retrieved the pipe from her fingers and gave a wink. "So, are you going to tell me why you're really here?"

He gave her a knowing look and Dinah tilted her head demurely.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about. Can't I visit my favorite uncle?"

Zachary breathed out a cloud of smoke. "I didn't know Jonathan was in town."

Dinah rolled her eyes. "Fine. Why do you think I'm here?" she countered, crossing her arms.

He smiled and tapped the pipe over an ashtray.

"If I were to place money on it, I'd say you snuck around to see a young lad named Ollie, not a cantankerous old man who smokes too much."

She blushed and he laughed again.

"Well, would that be so wrong?" she gave him an angelic expression she knew he couldn't stay angry at.

"No, foolish but not wrong."

"How is it foolish?" she asked, moving to sit on the ottoman by his feet.

"You are far too good for him Canary. But I don't think you would ever find yourself a more devoted fan."

Dinah's young face lit up with excitement.

"So, you agree it would be a good match if we married?"

"At 16? No. I don't think anyone should be in a rush to wed. Then again, I wasn't, and look what it got me…maybe there is no right answer. But I'd still suggest waiting four or five years, just for him to grow up a bit."

Dinah scowled, clearly, he was not being the great support she'd hoped for.

"Don't worry little songbird, the Queens adore you and your parents couldn't care less who you marry. When the time comes, you'll have your Oliver Queen on a silver platter, just make sure he works a bit before you say yes."

Her smile returned as she got up and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"No go on and see your Robin Hood. He's probably loitering downstairs waiting for a chance to see you."

"Would you like to talk to him, Uncle Zach?"

"No, I'm tired."

"Should I send up a servant?"

"That's alright, I think I'd prefer to just nap here in my chair."

She tip-toed towards the door, stopping at the last moment to stick her head back in before closing it.

"I'll see if I can kick the Queens to curb for you, sleep well."

"Thank you, Dinah, goodbye."

She closed the door, and he was alone again.

A sweet girl, probably the nicest of the whole prestigious lot. I hope Queen doesn't take too long asking to marry her or she just might leave. Ha-ha. The poor lad wouldn't think the sun could rise without her.

He breathed a shaky sigh and leaned his head back to rest.

When he opened his eyes again the sun had set, and a dark shadow lay over the house.

A figure stood in the corner, an ethereal specter, with her back to him.

He knew in an instant who it was.

He tried to rise to meet her, but his legs wouldn't obey his commands. He could only sit, and look at her, his unobtainable Queen.

"Hello, Hippolyta." He took a shallow breath, "Funny that you'd be the one to visit me…at the end."

Silence.

Then she turned.

Once shimmering azure eyes now dull and dark, pale skin had become ashen, and the thick yellow hair that shone like gold was faded to silvery white.

Her proud face, like perfectly carved marble, showing him nothing of her thoughts.

She stood before him like a thick fog.

"Hello, Zachary."

Hmm, he nodded at the familiar sound of her voice, so regal, so mysterious, so distant.

"How is our girl?" He asked the specter, a tremble in his words. "Is she beautiful, is she everything I imagined?"

A fond smile formed on his waxen face. "She would have been…it doesn't matter. I will join you shortly. It won't be long now and we three will be together again."

He chuckled bitterly, "That is if you can tolerate me this time."

The ghost stared at him, tilting her head slightly to the side, her face blank.

Zachary felt an overwhelming longing to touch her, to feel the pulse beneath her wrist, to hear her breaths, but he knew she had neither.

His smile fell as tears began to cloud his vision.

"I've missed you Polly…I don't know if you'd believe it, but I have…truly I have."

The ghost turned her head, looking about the room, affording him a view of her beautiful profile.

"Where is my daughter?"

Her wispy voice echoed in his ears and Zachary's heart stopped, his body cold.

She turned back to him, her azure eyes searching.

"I should like to see you both." A curious shadow settled on her face as her pale brows fell. "Don't you want to tell her goodbye?"

He swallowed; his tongue caught in his throat which had gone dry.

"Our daughter is with you, Hippolyta…isn't she?" The specter made no reply. "She died with you. Don't you remember?"

Trepidation filled his thoughts, his breathing growing ragged.

The ghost's pale lips curved into a sad, pitying, smile.

"Do you?" she asked.

She began to fade away.

Zachary struggled to get up, reaching out a hand to stop her.

"HIPPOLYTA WAIT!"

But she was gone.

Vanished like breath on glass.

He took a shuddering breath.

Pain stabbed his chest, hot tears trailing down his cheeks as he clutched his left arm.

"Do I remember" he murmured, "…Diana?"

City of London Certificate of Death

Name: Zachary Princeton, His Grace The 7th Duke of Hever

Date & Time of Death: 2:52 am October 27th, the Year of our Lord 1838.

Place of Death: Hever House, St. James Square London England.

Cause of Death: Heart Failure.

Age of the Deceased: 52 years.

In Memoriam: He died peacefully in his sleep during the early morning hours. Widowed and predeceased by his only child, a daughter, in the summer of 1830, he never remarried. His final request was to be laid to rest beside his wife, Hippolyta Lennox, in the burial grounds of St. James Church and that the inscription upon his headstone should read. "I hope they got the damned eagle right on this blasted headstone. It's the least you can do for the man who lost everything."

London England September 1844

—Oliver Queen,

List of Contested Possessions and Properties

in the case of

The Lady Diana Princeton, v. Elliot Hale, The 8th Duke of Hever.

The Property of Hever House, St. James Square London. The Property of Huntly Hunting Lodge in Norfolk, purchased by the Princeton family in 1749, renamed Diana's Violets' in 1829. Principle Shareholder in the East India Trading Company. A steel factory in the North of England. 14 cargo ships for transporting furs, luxuries, and tea in the Wayne Enterprises Shipping Company. An art collection worth £56,000 pounds. A personal fortune worth £5,000,000 pounds. All personal effects of the 7th Duke and Duchess.

A Clerk finished summarizing the items in the will for what felt like the 700th time.

Oliver stifled a groan as Elliot Hale and his lawyer once again began to argue that everything should go to the inheritor of the title on the grounds of tradition.

Oliver glanced over his shoulder to the viewing gallery where his wife sat.

Dinah gave him a reassuring wave, trying to conceal how nervous she was. Next to her sat Lois, who chewed at her bottom lip as she followed the proceedings intently.

Elliot's lawyer mentioned allocating a couple thousand pounds to Diana as a dowry, causing Oliver to turn his attention back to the man.

This proposal was apparently not something the two had discussed beforehand as once it was mentioned Elliot looked like he wanted to break his lawyer in half.

"Your Honor, it is an insult to The Duke's dignity to leave him with nothing to uphold his position, unlike his predecessors who had the benefit of the ancestral estates to provide their income."

Judge Alistair Payne appeared uninterested in the lawyer's words as he leaned his elbows on the desk and slowly blinked his small eyes.

"Yes, yes, Mister DeVoe, you have mentioned your client's sufferings before the court many times. But I have yet to hear an explanation for why His Grace did not inherit the ancestral properties upon assuming his title. Especially as I see no indication of them being mentioned in the will. Isn't that so Master Harlow?"

"It is Your Honor," the Clerk replied, holding up the will. "Should I summarize it again?"

"No!" The Judge held up a hand to halt the young man. "I beg you no Master Harlow. I believe we have all memorized it by now."

The Clerk obediently lowered his papers and the court let out a collective breath.

"Mister Dent," The Judge bellowed, turning his gaze to Harvey and Oliver, who hurriedly sat up straighter in his chair. "Why are these properties not currently in The Duke's possession?"

Harvey stood confidently before the bench, speaking as a trained orator, his voice carried easily throughout the room.

"The items listed in the will were private purchases of the Princeton family and not gifts from the crown or associated with the title Duke of Hever. All the ancestral Estates and lands in Norfolk, Devon, and Scotland were sold before the 7th Duke's death and the proceeds given to the Church of England as a charitable donation."

The Judge's brow creased.

"Wasn't he a Deist?"

"Y-Yes, Your Honor."

"And he donated it to the church?"

"That would be correct, Your Honor."

Judge Payne expertly concealed a smirk as he turned toward the opposing party.

"He really didn't care for you did he, Your Grace?"

"…so, it would seem, Your Honor."

The Judge gave a small chuckle. Elliot's face burned and he suddenly jumped up.

"He stole everything that was supposed to be mine, Your Honor! How is it legal to rob a man of what is his? I demand satisfaction, what remains should belong to me!"

The gavel pounded, beating the air, and bringing everything to a standstill as the Judge stared down the irate noble from above.

"Sit. Down. Your Grace or I will have you thrown out of my courtroom for your insolent behavior."

Elliot sunk back into his chair, balling his hands into fists on the table before him.

Judge Payne returned to the case.

"Now, Mister Dent, as I understand it the Lady in question is already set to inherit a personal fortune of several million pounds as well as an estate once she reaches 21, outside of the result of today's proceedings, is that correct?"

"Yes, Your Honor. She is the uncontested heir of 2 million pounds and Sancomb Palace in Hertfordshire. But, as you stated Your Honor, Lady Diana will not come into possession until her 21st birthday."

"Remind me Sir, who willed this fortune to her?"

"Her maternal grandmother, Diana Lennox, The Dowager Viscountess of Cheswick, nee Diana Chatsworth The Dowager Countess of Rothsburg, nee The Honorable Miss Diana Lily."

The Judge nodded.

"Then it would appear Mister Dent that this young lady is already guaranteed more than enough to live a very comfortable life for the rest of her days. Why then should I grant a mere child, a girl, even more income when His Grace the Duke hasn't so much as a penny to uphold the dignity of the title and position that are rightfully his inherited under the law?"

Harvey didn't hesitate.

"Because Your Honor, the wishes of this father to provide for his child should have as much right under the law as those of any living man. Even though he's dead, his daughter is alive, and should not be forgotten."

A faint smile flickered across the Judge's face.

"Well said, Mister Dent."

An hour later Lois, Dinah, and Oliver let out a collective sigh of relief as the Judge announced his verdict in favor of Lady Diana Princeton, with only a few compensations to be made to the 8th Duke of Hever.

Oliver lept to his feet, racing back to the observation gallery to hug his wife before remembering Harvey still standing before the bench.

"Come on Harv, let's go celebrate with the ladies."

Harvey gladly joined his friend, making their way to where Dinah and Lois stood, deep in conversation.

The lawyer's face lit up at the sight of Lois and he quickly outpaced Oliver, coming to a halt before the pretty young Countess, granting her a neat bow.

She nodded curtly, lips thinning in displeasure, as she accepted the gesture.

"Hello Lois, you're looking as lovely as ever."

"I'm still married Harvey."

The lawyer shrugged, not seeming the least bit offended by her refusal to play his game.

"Can't blame a man for asking."

"How's Gilda?" Lois said with a smirk.

Harvey didn't appear the least bit disturbed by the mention of his long-suffering wife and just waved a hand at the question.

"Oh, she's fine. I'm afraid our Delilah keeps her rather busy." Harvey's chest swelled with pride as he spoke of his child. "She's very precocious for an eight-year-old."

His demeanor reverted to polite but unconcerned as he returned to the topic of his wife. "Gilda will be grateful to know you asked after her Lois, thank you."

"Of course, Harvey," Lois practically growled. "Gilda is a dear friend."

That was a lie, she was barely an acquaintance, but Lois wasn't going to give up trying to force some remorse on the man for his flagrant flirting with anything that moved.

She found herself appreciating Clark's bumbling mild-mannered personality more with every second she had to spend in Harvey Dent's presence.

"Thank you again, Harv," Oliver jumped in, trying to distract the man before Lois scratched his eyes out.

"I honestly didn't think we could win, but now the whole business can finally be put to rest. I know Elliot tried to hire you for his side of the case and I can't thank you enough for turning him down."

Harvey bowed his head in an act of sincere humility.

"A man's wills should be followed, that is the law, and It would be wrong to allow a young girl to be robbed of what is rightfully hers. I would do it all over again even if you hadn't asked. It would have been dishonest to argue against what I know to be right."

Oliver patted his friends' shoulder, unsurprised by the man's devotion to his personal code. Even as children Harvey had viewed everything with brutal honesty.

"We are grateful that our interests aligned." Dinah smiled, covertly giving Lois's elbow a squeeze in a silent request to focus on the big picture.

Lois shook her head baffled, how could Harvey be both the most faithful of friends and yet a notoriously unfaithful husband? How could the man possibly reconcile the two sides of himself?

"Yes, thank you, Mister Dent," Lois said with a thin smile.

"No thanks necessary. If you will excuse me, I need to speak with Judge Payne and Mister DeVoe to finalize the transfer."

As Harvey left and Dinah relaxed.

"Swine." Lois hissed.

"He's really not that bad." Oliver tried to defend his friend only to receive a raised eyebrow from Lois.

"Well, sometimes you can be a bit harsh with people Lois." He countered.

She gave him a condescending smile. "And you can be far too forgiving of them, cousin."

Thankfully, Clark chose that moment to arrive, unknowingly saving Dinah from being forced to referee.

He walked with a quickened step, granting a bashful smile at the little group as he came to join them.

"Sorry, I'm late. I was covering a workers' dispute in the East End."

"What kind of dispute? Where do they work, factory, shipbuilding, railway?" Lois demanded, a hungry gleam in her eye. "How many workers involved, what are their complaints, did you make sure to get a quote from the boss?"

Clark opened his mouth but was cut off before he could answer.

"Break time reporters," Oliver quipped. "One situation at a time please."

"Sorry," Clark apologized, flicking his gaze downward.

Lois fought the urge to roll her eyes at his Farm Boy manners. She knew he hated to be an inconvenience or cause conflict, but she wished he would stand up for himself occasionally.

After all, his job was important and something Clark had worked ridiculously hard for.

It made her blood boil that Oliver was treating it so casually. Just because HE could enjoy being an aristocrat without working didn't mean that Clark was any less of a nobleman.

Clark could see the fire burning in his wife's violet eyes, spoiling for a fight. He knew Oliver hadn't meant to be flippant about his job, but Lois wasn't one for letting things go.

He quickly stepped in before she made Dinah an unfortunately young widow.

"Has the trial started?" he asked, looking around the rapidly emptying courtroom.

"Started, happened, wrapped up, and tied with a bow," Oliver announced with a cheek-splitting grin.

Clark raised his eyebrows in surprise. "So, I take it you won?"

"More or less." Dinah beamed, clearly feeling as victorious as her husband.

"Well, good, I'm glad."

Oliver snorted and Lois jerked her head to look at her husband, granting him an incredulous smirk of her own.

"Oh, we know that you thought this was a waste of time," Dinah said in an unnervingly calm tone that made Oliver flinch.

"It wasn't that I thought it was a waste, so much as a lost cause."

Oliver gave a low whistle "Why Lois would you look at that, they've painted the ceiling white! Come cousin we should inspect it."

"I think you're right, lets go. There's nothing I like more than watching paint dry, and white, what a...exciting choice of color."

Lois and Oliver jointly backed away from the pair to study the ceiling from the safety of another part of the room.

"Sometimes I don't understand you, Clark. You have never once argued against Diana receiving Grandmama's fortune. Even when we all thought she was dead; you didn't argue for any of the rest of us to inherit it."

"That's because I respected her wishes. For goodness sake Dinah she was our Grandmother, I would never betray her memory like that."

"And Uncle Zach was Diana's father, but you don't find his memory as deserving of your respect?"

"It's not that—"

"What is it then?"

Clark hung his head under Dinah's sharp gaze.

"Please do share Kal," Dinah said, making her cousin's ears burn with the sound of her childhood nickname for him. "I'm all ears and more than eager to hear you explain."

Clark took a deep breath. He hated arguing with Dinah but in this rare instance, they just couldn't seem to see eye to eye.

"I have nothing but sympathy for Zachary Princeton, you know that Dinah. I am reminded of what losing his daughter meant for him every time I look at her. To think of what he suffered believing she was dead when in fact she had been stolen from us by some amoral villain."

A measure of Dinah's anger subsided as she too thought of what they had all lost for 13 years.

"He was Diana's father," Clark conceded. "But he was also the reason for Aunt Hippolyta's unhappiness."

"I don't think it was as black and white as that Clark," Dinah told him, her tone once again full of the steady sisterly affection he was familiar with.

"Maybe not, but you can't deny that he was stubborn, impulsive, and highly competitive, which usually turned into pettiness. This whole ordeal is proof of that."

He gestured to their surroundings.

Sadness glinted in Dinah's gray eyes despite the small smile on her face.

"If that is all you remember then I am afraid you didn't know him very well."

Clark felt remorse over his words. Though he still stood by his view of the man, he knew that Dinah had been fond of him and he didn't want to hurt her by disregarding that.

"What I mean to say is that Zachary never honestly believed that his daughter was alive. Everything he did in her name was just the petty act of a dying man to spite the heirs he disliked…It wasn't for her Dinah, and I just don't see the point in dragging up the whole messy business when she has already been taken care of by our family and her future secured by Grandmama."

Dinah shook her head and turned to the side, her bonnet blocking his view of her face.

When she turned back the anger was gone as she resigned herself to the fact that they remembered their late uncle to differently to find common ground.

"You're right Clark, you don't see the point. But at least the point is moot. We won today, and it's over now."

Clark smiled and nodded, on that at least, they could agree.

"Soooooo, has the war started?" Oliver joked as he and Lois edged back towards them.

"No war Ollie," Clark announced raising his hands, "I would never survive against the Black Canary."

He mischievously chuckled as Dinah's mouth tightened and her pale face blushed with the humiliating nickname from childhood.

"Black Canary?" Lois asked, "how did that come about?"

The boys burst into laughter while Lois eyed them suspiciously and Dinah turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Well," Oliver began, "When Canary here was around…how old was she Clark?"

"Couldn't have been more than 10 because that was the last summer before I left for school."

"Right," Oliver nodded, continuing. "Anyway, we were all together on holiday in the country, and Clark and I decided to sneak down to the river to fish."

"And Dinah wanted to tag-along." Clark jumped in, giving his cousin a wicked grin.

"So," Oliver took over, "we tried to lose her by cutting through a pasture—"

"Despicable runts," Dinah growled, glaring daggers at her husband.

"We didn't think she could climb the fence, but we looked back and low and behold here comes Dinah crawling over it." Clark gave her an overenergetic pat on the back, not helping to diminish her seething rage.

"She almost made it too," Oliver cackled. "But, at the last second her shoe caught, and she went flying, face first, into a giant pile of COW SH—"

"OLIVER!" Dinah cried, making poor Ollie jump out of his skin from the shrill vibrations.

"Needless to say," Clark wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes, "her head was covered in smelly black…mud…not an inch of blonde hair to be seen!"

"And so Clark decided that she now looked like a black canary!"

"The ice is thin Ollie," Dinah warned but he flashed her an adoring smile.

"Oh Prettybird, don't be mad, that's my favorite story about us."

"Why?" Lois laughed.

Oliver looked at his wife with a face that melted her heart.

"Because that was the day Dinah said that she was going to marry me."

Oliver kissed his wife's temple as a begrudging smile spread on her face.

"I told him that it would be his punishment for laughing."

"And I hope I never get Paroled."

Lois felt Clark take her small hand and tuck it into the crook of his elbow, squeezing it gently.

"I have a question," Clark said, bringing the conversation back to more current matters. "What exactly was the verdict?"

"Elliot got the steel factory, all the East India shares, and Hever House. Diana got the rest." Dinah told him.

"It's unfortunate that she couldn't keep the house, after all, she was born there." Lois mused and Clark gave her hand another squeeze.

"At least she was granted everything inside it." Oliver pointed out with a devious gleam. "By the time I'm done, Elliot won't have so much as a stool to sit on. Let's see how he enjoys the grandeur of living in an empty house."

"I would feel bad for him, but I agree with Lois," Dinah concurred. "He deserves it for not being gracious and allowing her to keep her former home."

Clark nodded in agreement, taking everyone, pleasantly, by surprise.

"I admit, it was worth it just to give her back some small piece of her past. Hopefully, this will grant some solace."

The mood became serious as they contemplated what this would mean for the future. They hadn't told her of the inheritance or legal proceedings, not wanting to get her hopes up.

Thankfully, Oliver was there to break the tension.

"Let's be off gang," He exclaimed, claiming his wife's arm. "I can't wait to tell little Diana that she is officially one of the richest women in England!"