“Matthew wrote to me last month, having learned of the death of a distant cousin. He was asking for some legal advice. This man was a recluse, living alone in the Essex countryside, and Matthew was thought to be his only heir, set to inherit after the old man died in the spring. At first it seemed to be a straightforward case. But now it seems that he had fathered two children with a local woman — unmarried, of course — and a counter claim has been launched for the money. Not a word about them in his will, though.”
“An interesting case,” said Hugh. “Which side do you think it will favour?”
“There are precedents both ways. I will need to examine all the paperwork and see whether the children have anything in writing to prove their identity or their claim. Well, I say children, but they must be in their twenties.”
“I hope it is resolved to the satisfaction of all. Is your brother-in-law inclined to be generous?”
“He is a generous man,” acknowledged Sir Richard. “He is often kind to…”
“But it is not about generosity!” interrupted Lady Elizabeth. “If the money is legally his, it must remain in the family, protected.”
It struck Thomasin that should her uncle Matthew succeed in retaining his inheritance, the beneficiary would be his reprehensible son, Barnaby, Ellen’s estranged husband. But would Ellen see any of it? They had been married for five years, and although their current separation was permanent, Barnaby was dragging his heels over a divorce. If only that impediment was removed, Thomasin did not doubt that Hugh would propose to Ellen. The softness in his looks at dinner, their regular letters, this family invitation to Raycroft — all seemed to suggest his enchantment with her. But still, Ellen was legally married. This money could bring her freedom.
“I suppose the inheritance must be a considerable sum of money, to make it worth disputing?” asked Cecilia.
“Enough, in that case, that a solution might be found to satisfy both sides? Surely?” Hugh smiled at the table. “Can the children be provided for, as the other claimant already has a most splendid house?”
Thomasin looked at Hugh, to see whether he was being arch in repeating her mother’s words, but his face appeared as genuine as his simple solution. She should have known; he was always straightforward, one of the few men she knew who was without guile. It was one of the reasons he and Ellen were a perfect match.
“That is a unique way of looking at it,” said Lady Elizabeth, with a hint of tartness. His use of her words had clearly struck her differently.
“But one that allows for fair distribution, to provide for all.”
“It sounds very much like you have been reading Sir Thomas More,” smiled Thomasin, liking Hugh a little more. “In his bookUtopia, he advocates the spreading of resources, to allow for all to be fed and sheltered. It is a most forward-thinking solution.”
But for all his kindness, Hugh was not a man to pursue an abstract theory, or spend his days absorbed in literature. He shrugged his huge shoulders. “No, I don’t get much time to read books.”
“Well, you are a Utopian in spirit,” Thomasin replied graciously.
“Who are these two adult children?” asked Cecilia. “I suppose they are our cousins in a way.”
“Ursula and Gilbert Aston, both unwed, from Prittlewell in Essex,” her father answered. “Their mother owned a tavern near the Priory there. That is all I know.”
“A tavern?” asked Lady Truegood, lifting her head as if she had only just come to life. “A tavern? Who lives in a tavern?”
“Some distant relations, Mother,” Hugh tried to appease her.
“Of ours?”
“No, of our guests.”
“From a tavern? Heavens, what have we come to?”
“I apologise,” said Hugh softly. “Please take no account of it.”
“Fear not. None has been taken,” said Thomasin.
The old woman slurped on her sops.
Lady Elizabeth turned away from the noise. “And do you have plans to return to court, Sir Hugh? Or are you bound to more travel?”
“I am bound to visit Bruges and Antwerp at the end of the year, but the king requires my presence shortly, for a tournament he is planning.”
“How gratifying,” replied Lady Elizabeth. “We are likely to meet at court then.”
After dinner, Hugh rose and addressed his guests. “Shall we walk in the gardens, as there is an hour of daylight still left?” He offered his arm to Ellen.
“That would be most pleasant.” She smiled, her cheeks dimpling in pleasure as she accepted.
