“There is an entailment,” I said.
He turned then and gazed at me, his eyes still hard, though I saw a question take root in them.
“You should speak with his solicitor,” I added.
“Youtell me,” he said.
“I think you should speak with his solicitor, Mr. Arthur Foster. I’m sure you have met him, and you must have heard from him since your father’s passing. You can spend the night here and ride back to see him in Spanish Town in the morning.”
“I have no interest in riding to Spanish Town,” he countered. “Send for him, if you must.” And he walked into the house.
So I sent for Foster to come in the morning, and, having no particular desire to entertain Richard, I retired to my room.
The next morning Richard accosted me at breakfast, blaming me for Bertha’s reaction to him and for her so-called miserable living conditions and for her appalling appearance. I listened quietly, for it seemed he had forgotten all about her deterioration before he had left, and he was convinced that her entire situation was due to my neglect. There was no way I could make him understand what the situation was, or what had gone on before, or even what Jonas had arranged. That latter was not for me to reveal.
At midmorning, Foster arrived, a tall, thin man with a permanent stoop. He carried with him three parcels, bound in black, and I ushered him into the house, where Richard sat at Jonas’ desk, trying to pretend he was attending to some sort of business. Foster tipped his hat to Richard, who nodded wordlessly at him, and then Foster said, “My condolences for your father’s passing. It must have been a surprise to you. And, as a consequence, we have some matters to discuss.”
I could not wait to hear how this would work itself out, but, perhaps mercifully, Richard stared coldly past him at me. “I think it is between you and me, Foster. It is none of Rochester’s affair. He is only my sister’s husband—if barely that—and not a blood descendant to my father.”
Foster tilted his head. “As you wish, Mr. Mason,” he said.
So instead I rode to Kingston, where theMary Rosewas in port undergoing some minor repairs. I was only too willing to let the solicitor explain everything in terms Richard could understand. I already knew the contents of Jonas’ will: he had left the property to Bertha and Richard jointly, with myself acting on Bertha’s behalf and in permanent control of operations, and entailed so that it could never be sold or mortgaged. Richard would receive half of all income, but beyond that, he had no material interest in the estate.
I intended to stay away for three days—I had business in Spanish Town as well, regarding the purchase of some additional land in the county—but as it turned out, that was two days more than necessary. Richard appeared at my town house on the second day, pounding on the door before I had even risen from bed. I could hear his voice the moment Sukey opened the door to him, and he did not stop yelling until I descended the stairs.
“You set him against me!” he accused. “You turned everyone against me! You Judas!” His face was red with exertion and I feared for his health.
“Will you have some breakfast with me?” I asked.
He balled his fists and for a moment I thought he was going to strike me. “I would not grace your table for all the tea in China! I will never speak with you again!” he shouted.
“I had nothing to do with it. It was your father’s wish.” I knew there was no point in saying that; he had already made up his mind. But I felt I needed to say so anyway, in my own defense.
“And you have shut up my sister in a prison!”
It was true; I could not deny it. But she preferred that prison to any alternative, and her own father and I had concluded that it was far better for her there than in the kind of place her mother was kept. And, at any rate, Bertha’s mind had become a much worse prison than I could ever have concocted for her. I did not respond.
He ranted longer than I would have thought I could bear, and I listened wordlessly, until his fury abated and he gave me a final black glare and stormed out of the house. Hearing him leave, Sukey came in and refreshed my tea. “Are you all right, sir? Sometimes I think theyall—”
“It’s enough,” I said. “We do not need to discuss it.”
She nodded.
We never again spoke of that episode.Sometimes I think theyallare madwas what I knew she had started to say. I could not dispute it, but if I had let her finish, I would have had to.
***
I thought I had seen the last of Richard, but I should have known better. That same evening I returned to Valley View and was astonished to find him seated on the veranda, waiting for me, no doubt.
“We are not finished,” he said as I mounted the steps. “You have no right to take overmyinheritance.”
“You will receive one-half; the other half is your sister’s. I am only the executor.”
“It isIwho should be in charge!” he shouted. He had been drinking, more than he should, I thought.
“It was your father’s decision,” I said.
“You drove him to it! You turned him against me!”
