A Divided Inheritance (17 page)

Another voice interrupted, ‘And have I understood correctly, the lace business – all the warehouses and the stock – they are not to go to his daughter solely, but to the son,
Zachary Deane, as well?’ Wilmot attempted to clarify the position.

‘That is so. It belongs to both under the law of inheritance. Both must sign for joint ownership before the monies can be released, and before any workers can be hired or dismissed. There
can be no disputing it as far—’

‘– as the law is concerned.’ Wilmot said this with contempt, but stood and swung his hat on to his head. ‘I trust, Mr Greeting, that you will do all in your power to
ensure that Mr Deane returns as soon as possible, and that he will allow Mistress Leviston to remain at West View House until she is married.’

‘Well, I . . . yes, yes . . . of course.’

‘Now, Mistress Leviston,’ Wilmot spoke directly to her, ‘I suppose neither of us has any need to remain. I suggest you sign for your due settlement and whilst we await the
return of Mr Deane, I shall escort you and your maidservant home.’

‘If you think I am signing such a travesty, then you can think again. I will not consent to tie my good name to . . . to . . .’ She fixed Greeting with a stony glare. ‘Find my
cousin and have him report to my lawyer.’

‘Your lawyer’s name?’ Greeting asked.

She could not answer, for she had no answer. She simply wrenched her cloak from the pegs at the door and, ignoring Wilmot, ran down the stairs. Behind her she heard the ‘tap tap’ of
Martha’s wooden-soled shoes as she hurried after her, running to keep up. Elspet was breathless but did not pause until she was in the carriage. She slammed the door shut.

‘Drive!’ she ordered Broadbank.

‘Where to, mistress?’

‘Just drive, damn you.’ He jerked into motion leaving Martha standing gawping on the road.

His
carriage. It was no longer hers. Nothing belonged entirely to her any longer. It would all have to be marched past the eyes of Zachary Deane. A man she loathed and despised. She let
the streets pass by her in a blur before Broadbank, obviously thinking she had lost all reason, slowed and stopped. He climbed down and came and peered in at her through the window.

‘Mistress?’

‘Home,’ she croaked, but the word near choked her. They passed Greeting’s chambers again and stopped. An ashen-faced Martha dragged the door open and slunk into the opposite
seat. Elspet could not look at her. The thought of Zachary lording himself in her chambers with his sack-swigging friends was too much to bear. As they approached the front door, she felt for the
keys at her waist, like an intruder in her own home. He would not get away with this, she thought. Immediately, this thought was followed by a picture of her father’s face. Oh Father, what in
heaven’s name possessed you?

Time went by, and still there was no word from Greeting that her cousin – she would never call him brother – had any plans to return from abroad. She did not dare
to hope that some miracle might have occurred and that Zachary had been lost somewhere; that he had been killed on some foreign soil and would never come back.

During the weeks of waiting she continued to fulfil the household duties, take care of servants’ needs, and listlessly prepare a trousseau for her wedding. She still had not written to
tell Hugh. She did not know where to begin. A bastard brother was not something he would be glad she had inherited, of that she was sure.

The stonemason sent notes and questions about her father’s memorial, but she was too bitter to think of it. Another query had just arrived. She stared at it blankly before tearing it into
small pieces and dropping it into the fireplace.

Though the windows let in shafts of the morning sun, she was still cold. She rubbed her hands together to warm them. How could he have done this to her, her own father? She would never be able
to tell Joan that Father must have gone with some other woman, whilst Mother had patiently waited at home. Greeting would give her no more information. But she knew Mother must have known. And the
thought that she had known, but had borne it, twisted in her heart.

Father had become mysterious and unknown; the memory of him as a faithful family man had disintegrated, like food turned to cinders. She heard Jakes scratching and whining at Father’s
chamber door again, as if to ask, where is he? She got up and went to look. At first she could not bear to move the dog away, her throat was wrung tight. But when he did not stop his whimpering and
scratching at the threshold, she shouted at him and smacked him until he cowered away, his tail between his legs.

She was instantly sorry, and fussed him and petted him until he licked her hand, looking up at her with his liquid-brown eyes.

What am I becoming? she thought, and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Come on, Jakes lad,’ she said, fondling his ears. She grabbed the leads from the hooks and snapped his on to make up
for it, and went to fetch Diver, who bounced up before her just as he always did.

‘Will I come too?’ asked Martha, appearing in the hall.

‘No, no. I shall just walk to the common and then return. I need a little air. Jakes will guard me, won’t you, lad?’

‘Very well, mistress.’

She let the dogs pull her down the street. She passed a few people but they nodded politely or stepped out of her way with a raise of the hat. When she got to the common she let both dogs off
the lead and let them race around after each other in the sunshine. Diver started immediately digging for moles, the earth flying up behind him. She barely saw them, for she was too deep in
thought.

What on earth would Hugh say when he learned he was not to receive this house or business as dower, and that she must have that bastard Zachary Deane’s say-so before she could so much as
buy a new pair of bootees? With Father gone there was no man to fight her cause. It was strange, this feeling of rootlessness, as if without a man to vouch for her she was floating somehow
unattached to the ground.

A message came to say Hugh was back in London, but Elspet’s stomach was churning as Hugh’s immaculate carriage drew up a few days later in the yard. He smiled and
bowed low as usual on meeting her. He looked more handsome than ever and for a moment her heart lifted just to see him. Martha bobbed from foot to foot in excitement and cast her a complicit wink
from behind the door as if to wish her good fortune.

He was far too much of a gentleman to ask directly after the will, but she knew she must tell him, so she sat him down, mustered her courage, and he listened carefully.

‘I’m sorry, Hugh,’ she said. ‘The house is Cousin Zachary’s alone, the business, and all his assets jointly held. We both must sign for them, and nobody can find
him. It’s a disaster. Only what is in Father’s chamber is to come direct to me as a keepsake – and I think there is naught of value in it, just his books, his nibs and his
timepieces . . .’ Her voice rose as she spoke.

‘But it will make little difference to us, surely?’ Hugh said. ‘Zachary is still family, is he not? And you and he were ever cordial, so I see no reason why our two businesses
should not continue to grow together just the same. You will be able to visit with him here, whenever you like. And, in truth, I have land and wealth enough. Land and wealth, but no
wife.’

His calm manner should have reassured her, but instead it only made her more agitated. She pulled on the fringes of her wrap. She did not know how to tell him why her father had favoured Zachary
over herself. Hugh seemed to assume that it was the man’s right to property, and that all families were as stable and settled as his own. He wrongly presumed the Levistons to be similarly
safe and predictable stock.

Instantly she realized that she could never tell him that Zachary was not her cousin but her bastard brother. She could not even say that word to Hugh. She looked into Hugh’s mild face and
saw no reason to tell him Zachary had just appeared one day from out of the blue, like a cuckoo in the nest. Nor could she tell him that she hardly saw eye-to-eye with him.

‘Besides,’ Hugh continued, not noticing her discomfort, ‘if I were your father, I would have done exactly the same. It is a man’s place to take these responsibilities,
not a woman’s. Your cousin and I will get along fine, you’ll see. And you need not worry, for there will be plenty to occupy your hand in Yorkshire. My house needs a woman’s
touch, I fear.’

‘No, Hugh,’ she said, ‘you do not understand. I intend to contest the will. My father had always promised West View House to me.’

‘Contest the will?’ A look of puzzlement spread over his face. ‘But why? I have property enough, surely? You can visit Cousin Zachary whenever I am in town. You would create
trouble over a house such as this?’ He held up his arms and gestured around him, his nose wrinkling. In an instant she took in the room’s dear shabbiness. His reaction only served to
make her more protective and all the more determined.

‘It is mine, Hugh, and I shall fight for it.’

‘Mistress Leviston – Elspet, is that wise?’ He looked at her as if she was deranged. ‘Surely it is not wise to provoke strife over a two-bit piece of land. Have a care
now. We will think on it a while before doing anything hasty. We will be living in Yorkshire, but I daresay Zachary will be pleased to welcome you here at any time.’

No he won’t
, she thought grimly. But she said nothing. Hugh’s family would never bicker over land, his father would never have kept a courtesan or have a bastard child
hidden away for years without telling anyone. He was probably not even aware that families like hers existed.

She picked up the bell to ring for refreshments. ‘Some cold ale?’ she asked, trying to maintain her composure, but feeling more and more out of sorts. She was uncomfortable that he
was telling her what ‘we’ will do, meaning himself. It made her uneasy that she was to have no say in the matter. She felt herself resisting, like a horse in traces.

‘Cold ale would be excellent,’ he said.

He must have caught her mood for he came over to where she stood near the window and took hold of her hand. His was large and soft and, for the first time ever, her own hand appeared delicate
and dainty. He squeezed it gently, but she did not know how to respond. She stared out into the sunlit street where the shiny side of his carriage could be seen. There were so many conflicting
emotions. She was awash with them all.

‘The business, well, that is a blow right enough,’ he said. ‘I had thought to have sole control over that. But as long as your cousin is amenable to propositions, I’m
prepared to write off the loss. It was a wife I was after, and if she is so much the poorer, well, I will just have to accept it. I can overlook it. I need to think of the future, of children.
Though I think, if you do not mind, my dear, we will not mention this to my family until after the wedding.’

She looked up at him, and tears formed in her eyes, not from grief, but because he thought he was being kind and she could not explain why his words disturbed her so.

‘Take cheer.’ He offered her a kerchief. ‘I see no reason for us to stay in London any longer. We will shut up the house until Zachary returns. We need not delay. We can hie
ourselves to Tockton immediately.’ His arm crept round her waist, where she let it lie, sensed the comfort of it, almost gave in to it, but somehow could not. He dipped his head to kiss her,
but she stayed stiff and unbending, frightened to let go in case she should break down.

He stepped away; he looked disappointed that she had not fallen into his arms. Perhaps he thought of himself as a hero, taking on such a dowerless woman.

‘I will send word to Tockton to prepare a room for you in the guest wing,’ he said, ‘until such time as we are wed.’ His tone said that the matter of the house was
closed. ‘Everyone is looking forward to meeting you and showing you how the estate is run, and there are ample servants to see to your needs.’ His expression was stubborn, like a child
insisting on sweetmeats.

‘Perhaps that would be best,’ she said, caving in, wanting to please him. ‘I’m sorry, Hugh,’ she said, ‘I am not myself right now –’

He approached again and held her so tightly that she felt her ribs creak. ‘I quite understand,’ he said. ‘To lose a father must be a terrible thing. I’d be lost without
mine. It has been a shock, and it is natural to grieve. But your father was a fine man, and would not want you to have a falling out with your cousin, I’m sure. That is all he had in mind, to
make your family ties the stronger. It is admirable.’

When he said ‘admirable’, a tear rolled down her face. She took a long shuddering breath and swallowed hard. If he knew the truth, Hugh would not find Father quite so admirable. But
she recognized that he was right; perhaps Father had intended to draw Zachary and her closer together. Foolish man, she thought sadly, the idea was quite impossible.

‘Let’s go straight back to Tockton,’ Hugh said again.

She did not want to leave West View House. She felt that if she left she might never return. A tight sensation lodged in her chest, like a weight pressing down on it. She took a deep breath and
regained control of herself. ‘Give me a little more time, won’t you, Hugh? I need to make arrangements for the dogs and pack up my personal possessions.’