Fire Along the Sky
Page 213
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“It won't bite.” She meant her tone to be playful, but feared it was more impatient. Not that it would worry Nathaniel; he wasn't a man to be hurried.
Elizabeth was sitting with her feet up, directing Sally in the setting of the table while she fanned herself with a folded newspaper. There were just the three of them in the kitchen for the moment.
Nathaniel met her gaze and she gestured with her chin at the unopened letter. It was written on heavy paper, and the seal cracked open with a pop.
“Well?” Elizabeth said. “Is it from a lawyer?”
“Aye. A Mr. Prime, of Manhattan.” His eyes ran down the page in a skittering movement, his mouth pursing harder with each line scanned.
“Liam Kirby's lawyer,” he said.
“Liam Kirby?” Elizabeth echoed. Sally heard the name too, and turned toward them.
“Read it for yourself, if you don't believe me.” He held the letter out to her, and Elizabeth shook her newspaper at him.
“No need to be so cross. What does he want?”
“Well,” Nathaniel said, turning the page over and reading on. “First off, it looks like Liam claimed Martha as his natural daughter and heir just before he died—”
Elizabeth started to interrupt, but Nathaniel's sharp look stopped her.
“Says here somebody sent him a letter writ by Liam, witnessed and all.”
“Why, that must have been Hannah,” Elizabeth said. “And she said nothing at all.”
Nathaniel hummed his agreement. “Second, it seems Liam asked that Will Spencer and I be appointed her guardians. And—”
His eyes ran more quickly over the third page of the letter. “There's an accounting of what Martha's got coming to her.”
Sally put a bowl of cucumbers down on the table with a thump. “Go on, then, before I die of wondering. What did he leave little Martha?”
“Everything he owned,” Nathaniel said, putting the letter down. “Which makes Martha a very wealthy young girl. If this Mr. Prime is to be believed.”
Over supper it was all they could talk about. Nathaniel read part of the letter aloud while the faces around the table gave him their perfect attention.
Some of Daniel's old humor came back to him for the moment. He said, “Maybe I should have joined the navy after all, if there was that kind of prize money to be got.”
“It's not all prize money,” Nathaniel said. “Mr. Prime writes that Liam inherited most of it himself. From a widow by the name of Mrs. Nora Kerr of Park Street.”
His head swung around to Hannah, who had started visibly. “Do you know that name?”
“Yes. I knew Mrs. Kerr when I was in Manhattan. She was a friend of Uncle and Aunt Spencer's. Kitty and I dined with her while we were there.”
It seemed a lifetime ago, those days in Manhattan. Hannah was struggling with the memories, though she tried not to show it. “Mr. and Mrs. Kerr took Liam in when he was first in the city.”
“Well.” Elizabeth was clearly relieved to hear such a reasonable explanation. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her hands over her belly.
“What were you worried about, Ma?” Daniel asked with a half-grin. “Did you think this Mrs. Kerr was some loose woman who left him all her money out of gratitude for his attentions?”
“You are crude, Daniel,” she said in a conversational tone. Nathaniel saw that she wanted to correct her son's poor manners, but was too pleased to see some of his old spirit to discourage him. If he wanted to get up on the table and dance a jig she would have said nothing at all to ruin the moment. The old Daniel, the one they were still waiting for, had been joyful in spirit and able to share that with everyone around him.
“Have you spoken to Martha yet?” Lily asked.
“After supper,” Nathaniel said.
“I wonder what the girl will think, to hear such news.” Simon asked the question of no one in particular. “To know herself wealthy in one stroke.”
“Relieved,” said Lily. “Thankful.”
“Frightened,” said Daniel. He looked at the faces around him. “My guess is, she'll be worried about Jemima coming back to lay a claim.”
Elizabeth's face flooded with color and then drained again.
Daniel said, “I'm sorry, Ma, but you know it's true. If Jemima got wind of this—” He looked toward the letter. “All that money and land, she'd be back here in a blink.”
“But would she have a claim on it?” Elizabeth looked at the letter as if it might answer her question. And then: “I fear she might. Martha is her daughter, and she is not yet of a legal age.” She put both hands on her belly, as she always did when something frightened her, as if to give the child growing there comfort she could not spare herself.
Daniel was too wound up in the idea of Jemima to notice the distress he was causing his mother, but Lily was not. She jumped in before Nathaniel could.
“I don't think we need worry about that,” she said firmly, sending her brother a hard look. “I would wager that Jemima is as far away from here as the money she took from—from that preacher will allow her to go. How she could possibly hear about what happened to Liam, or this bequest—I can't imagine it.”
Nathaniel put down his fork. “I expect you're right, Lily. But it's probably best if we don't advertise the news anyway. It's enough for Martha to know, and Curiosity.”
Elizabeth was sitting with her feet up, directing Sally in the setting of the table while she fanned herself with a folded newspaper. There were just the three of them in the kitchen for the moment.
Nathaniel met her gaze and she gestured with her chin at the unopened letter. It was written on heavy paper, and the seal cracked open with a pop.
“Well?” Elizabeth said. “Is it from a lawyer?”
“Aye. A Mr. Prime, of Manhattan.” His eyes ran down the page in a skittering movement, his mouth pursing harder with each line scanned.
“Liam Kirby's lawyer,” he said.
“Liam Kirby?” Elizabeth echoed. Sally heard the name too, and turned toward them.
“Read it for yourself, if you don't believe me.” He held the letter out to her, and Elizabeth shook her newspaper at him.
“No need to be so cross. What does he want?”
“Well,” Nathaniel said, turning the page over and reading on. “First off, it looks like Liam claimed Martha as his natural daughter and heir just before he died—”
Elizabeth started to interrupt, but Nathaniel's sharp look stopped her.
“Says here somebody sent him a letter writ by Liam, witnessed and all.”
“Why, that must have been Hannah,” Elizabeth said. “And she said nothing at all.”
Nathaniel hummed his agreement. “Second, it seems Liam asked that Will Spencer and I be appointed her guardians. And—”
His eyes ran more quickly over the third page of the letter. “There's an accounting of what Martha's got coming to her.”
Sally put a bowl of cucumbers down on the table with a thump. “Go on, then, before I die of wondering. What did he leave little Martha?”
“Everything he owned,” Nathaniel said, putting the letter down. “Which makes Martha a very wealthy young girl. If this Mr. Prime is to be believed.”
Over supper it was all they could talk about. Nathaniel read part of the letter aloud while the faces around the table gave him their perfect attention.
Some of Daniel's old humor came back to him for the moment. He said, “Maybe I should have joined the navy after all, if there was that kind of prize money to be got.”
“It's not all prize money,” Nathaniel said. “Mr. Prime writes that Liam inherited most of it himself. From a widow by the name of Mrs. Nora Kerr of Park Street.”
His head swung around to Hannah, who had started visibly. “Do you know that name?”
“Yes. I knew Mrs. Kerr when I was in Manhattan. She was a friend of Uncle and Aunt Spencer's. Kitty and I dined with her while we were there.”
It seemed a lifetime ago, those days in Manhattan. Hannah was struggling with the memories, though she tried not to show it. “Mr. and Mrs. Kerr took Liam in when he was first in the city.”
“Well.” Elizabeth was clearly relieved to hear such a reasonable explanation. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her hands over her belly.
“What were you worried about, Ma?” Daniel asked with a half-grin. “Did you think this Mrs. Kerr was some loose woman who left him all her money out of gratitude for his attentions?”
“You are crude, Daniel,” she said in a conversational tone. Nathaniel saw that she wanted to correct her son's poor manners, but was too pleased to see some of his old spirit to discourage him. If he wanted to get up on the table and dance a jig she would have said nothing at all to ruin the moment. The old Daniel, the one they were still waiting for, had been joyful in spirit and able to share that with everyone around him.
“Have you spoken to Martha yet?” Lily asked.
“After supper,” Nathaniel said.
“I wonder what the girl will think, to hear such news.” Simon asked the question of no one in particular. “To know herself wealthy in one stroke.”
“Relieved,” said Lily. “Thankful.”
“Frightened,” said Daniel. He looked at the faces around him. “My guess is, she'll be worried about Jemima coming back to lay a claim.”
Elizabeth's face flooded with color and then drained again.
Daniel said, “I'm sorry, Ma, but you know it's true. If Jemima got wind of this—” He looked toward the letter. “All that money and land, she'd be back here in a blink.”
“But would she have a claim on it?” Elizabeth looked at the letter as if it might answer her question. And then: “I fear she might. Martha is her daughter, and she is not yet of a legal age.” She put both hands on her belly, as she always did when something frightened her, as if to give the child growing there comfort she could not spare herself.
Daniel was too wound up in the idea of Jemima to notice the distress he was causing his mother, but Lily was not. She jumped in before Nathaniel could.
“I don't think we need worry about that,” she said firmly, sending her brother a hard look. “I would wager that Jemima is as far away from here as the money she took from—from that preacher will allow her to go. How she could possibly hear about what happened to Liam, or this bequest—I can't imagine it.”
Nathaniel put down his fork. “I expect you're right, Lily. But it's probably best if we don't advertise the news anyway. It's enough for Martha to know, and Curiosity.”
