He did not react to that revelation. Instead, there was steel in his eyes as he said, “And my father: your brother?”
Could he possibly know how much he resembled Rowland? But of course he could, for those who had taken him to America must surely have known Rowland in Jamaica. Still: “I have no reason to think my brother was your father,” I said.
“You have only to look at me,” he responded, leaning close, his face nearly in mine.
“My brother is dead, these many years ago.”
“And I have come to claim my inheritance as his son.”
And now he comes to it.“Son or no son, the inheritance is not yours, unless you have proof of a marriage,” I countered.
“I do have proof.”
That stopped me for a moment.What kind of proof could he have?“Show me.”
“First, let me see my mother. I have a right to see her.”
I could not deny that. I did not want to allow it, but it hardly seemed decent to deny a man his mother. But I did not need to tell him that yet. “You have no right to see anyone you claim as a mother but cannot prove; you do not resemble her. You do not carry her surname.”
“I carry her husband’s name: her husband, Rowland, your brother.”
“And yet you show no proof. If you expect to see her, much less to claim an inheritance, you will show proof of legal marriage first.”
“If you are looking for legal proof, the parish records were destroyed in the hurricane of October 1818; but I have a letter—two, in fact—from your father, Mr. George Howell Rochester, to my grandfather, Mr. Jonas Mason, referring to the marriage of his son to my mother.”
I stifled a gasp. So the proof did exist—Rowland and Bertha had wed after all. Unless— “His son? Which son?” I demanded, before realizing I should not play my hand, if Gerald did not know about my own marriage. Then I tried covering my mistake: “You have the letters with you?”
“My solicitor has them—for safekeeping.”
“In that case, tell your solicitor to arrange a meeting at my solicitor’s. We will settle this thing there.”
***
As soon as I could, I went to Everson, telling him what had happened, and sitting through his disgust that I had gone against his orders. But when he had finished scolding me, he admitted an interest in Gerald’s supposed proof. “It is not a copy of the record,” I pointed out, “only letters, because the record was destroyed.” His eyebrows rose at that, but he said, “It’s not usual, but letters might do. It is possible. Let us see them and do our best to determine if they are genuine. When I hear from his solicitor, I will inform you.”
I turned to leave, but he stopped me at the door. “Surely you have thought this through. If he had proof of marriage between his father and your wife, he inherits all that had been your brother’s.”
“I know that full well,” I said. Everson said nothing in response to that. It occurred to me that he might be surprised that I would be willing to trade Thornfield to secure the hand of Blanche Ingram; he seemed on the verge of advising me against such a colossal mistake. I could not help but smile to myself, a little, as I took my leave.
***
Three days later the four of us met in Everson’s office, Gerald looking nervous and I feeling nervous. This meeting would seal my fate one way or the other; it was only with determination that I could hold my thoughts together.
Gerald’s solicitor was a large man with rumpled clothing and a full shock of black hair, appearing more like a cottager than a solicitor, but Everson had warned me that he had a sharp mind. The two of them—Gerald and Mr. Ramsdell—arrived exactly on the dot of ten, and Everson got right to the point: “I understand you have letters proving Rowland Rochester’s marriage to Bertha Antoinetta Mason,” he said.
“We do,” Mr. Ramsdell replied.
“Let us see them.”
Ramsdell withdrew from a portfolio two letters, carefully unfolded them, and placed them on Everson’s desk. I could not restrain myself from moving closer that I might see them as well.
The first, dated 18 June 1809, read:
My dear Jonas,
I am pleased to write to you that of course I maintain my intention to conclude the arrangements I made with you for the benefit of both our families, especially your daughter, Bertha Antoinetta. My son is already on his way to Jamaica and will soon arrive, and by God’s will this business will be finished shortly.
I trust that all is well with you and your family.
