Belle put a couple folders in front of him. “We are obviously not as quick as you.”
“I had your patients to help me. Something to do to break their boredom.”
“Huh. Never thought of enlisting their help.”
“As I said, we did not read each letter, so there could be something of import there, something to lead ye to a lawyer.”
“Well, I need a cold drink,” said Belle as she stood up.
They all went down into the kitchen and Belle poured out three tall glasses of lemonade. Then they sat and spread out the letters, each taking one to read through carefully. Geordie noticed a suspicious shine to Belle’s eyes on occasion as she carefully read each one.
“Well, a few lawyers are mentioned, but they were not hired to work on this,” said Mary. “I do not understand why it was such a problem to find someone.”
“There are a lot of people who do not like how so much land could end up in the hands of the Natives. And any one of the learned men who would be lawyers may have aspirations to run for office sometime, and would not want to be connected to any of it,” Belle said.
“Does that feeling run strong here?” Geordie asked.
“Not as strong as it might out where you are, but there are some who can be very pig-headed about Natives owning land. We don’t have much trouble, except from what considers itself society here, because we are Amplefords and that name has always been here, from the first settler on.”
“We also marry and have kids and so still live on that land.”
“You mean as long as we keep producing satisfactory heirs, they can rest easy?”
“That seems to be it.” Mary smiled at Geordie, who was laughing quietly. “People in a small town can be unending entertainment.”
“Oh, I ken that. Unfortunately, they can sometimes be dangerous. We pushed our luck a bit by hiring the Powells, shepherds, and running sheep on our land. Then the Powells married sisters who are Natives, half, and are now having babies. We are so out of the way, tucked up in the hills on our acres, that society can ignore us. I think the sisters get lost in the Scots, Welsh, and Irish up there, too. And one very English lady.”
“Good Lord.” Mary shook her head. “I mean, we are all countries mixed nearly everywhere here but most of us don’t sound like it like you do. I suspect the others do, too.”
“Mrs. O’Neal just sounds like she’s from New England, which is not much of a saving grace. We supported the Union. Didnae flaunt it but didnae keep it a secret either. That causes some tension still.” He politely ignored the somewhat profane opinions of the war muttered by the two women.
“Well, I think going through all these letters will take some time and we will probably need paper and pen to make some notes. I’ll just pick this stuff up, or one of the furry gang might play with it all and leave us only shreds of paper.”
* * *
It was late before Geordie had an opportunity to sit alone with Belle. She was studying the information she and her aunt had compiled from the many letters and papers they had gone through as she sipped her cup of hot chocolate. They had proof of what Mary’s husband had wanted in his will, but little else.
“Only one lawyer mentioned in all of that paper,” Geordie said. “I asked Iain to see if George, our lawyer, recognizes the name, and my letter will head out in the morning.”
“Well, at least Auntie found some comfort in seeing that Uncle had tried. His time simply ran out.”
“Will any of the other information help?”
“That will all depend on if the case ends up in court, where, and how the court sees it.”
“When do ye think he will try to act legally to take her house?”
“I fear it will not be long. He wants it and has already put his house up for sale. And from things Auntie said, his wife really wants the house.”
When she put her empty mug down, he wrapped his arms around her. “We will do all we can to help her sort this out. Her husband started the process of preparing a will, we have the proof of that, and we have proof of the things he wanted in it, right down to a list of who gets what. There may be more to find.” He kissed the top of her head. “Why dinnae we just go and sleep on all this?”
He took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. Geordie swung her up into his arms, ignoring her soft squeal of protest. “I am carrying m’lady to our bedchamber. It is supposed to be romantic.”
Belle sighed and shook her head. “Whatever lady said it was romantic was obviously tall, one of those stately ladies who would never feel as if she was teetering precariously on some ledge.”
“Ye climb trees with ease and show no sign of fear.”
“BecauseIam the one doing it;Iam the one in control. Here?” She waved her hand to illustrate her position. “No control at all. The best I can hope for is that, as I fall, I can grab hold of your shirt and it will not rip. That is just luck. Again, no control. Afraid I don’t like what that feels like.”
