“It sounds complicated enough to keep a lawyer fat and happy for years,” he observed. “You actually have the papers to support this?”
“Yes, and I sent them to Baltimore with Josh and Sarah. All the important documents are here.” She shivered. “I’m glad I obeyed my intuition with that. If Henry does cause trouble, at least I’ll have some ammunition.”
“Just how close to the final will was the draft?”
“Quite close, as far as I know. Matthew wrote it with his own hand and it has several words scratched out, but his provisions for me and his children were very clear.”
“I’m a fair hand at forgery,” Gordon said. “If you have a copy of Matthew’s signature, I could easily add it to the draft will. It would seem more legitimate if there were witnesses, though, and I assume that Josh and Sarah wouldn’t be allowed to witness because they were slaves at the time.”
She stopped in the street and stared at him, her hazel eyes wide. “Have I shocked you?” he asked.
“I think that’s awonderfulidea!” she exclaimed. “I’ve hated that Molly and Trey haven’t received the inheritances they deserve and that their father wanted them to have.”
“You’re entitled to your jointure, too,” he pointed out. “In a complicated situation, you were a good wife to him and mother to his younger children.”
“It would be nice to have an independent income,” she agreed. “But not as important as Molly and Trey being given good starts in life.” Her brow furrowed. “As for witnesses, Matthew had a good friend called Frederick Holmes. They would regularly get together to play cards and smoke cigars. Mr. Holmes was very old, and he died only a week or so after Matthew. He was a respected local planter and could have signed the will.” Her smile turned wicked. “And I have a copy of his signature on a condolence letter he sent me after Matthew’s death.”
“Brilliant!” Gordon exclaimed. “I don’t suppose your husband had any other friends who conveniently died.”
“Luckily for them, no. Will one witness be enough?”
Gordon resumed walking as he thought. “It would be a little irregular, but you could sign it in a personal way. Something like, ‘This seems very fair, Mr. Newell. Your loving wife, the Honorable Catherine Callista, et cetera, et cetera.’ And date it.”
“If the will looks legitimate, won’t a judge wonder why I didn’t produce it earlier?”
Gordon grinned. “Blink your beautiful eyes and say that you hadn’t thought it was legal because there were words scratched out and only one witness had signed. Look lovely and vulnerable and perhaps not very intelligent and you’ll have the judge eating out of your hand.”
She laughed and squeezed his arm. “I love this idea! My lawyer, Francis Scott Key, is one of the best in Washington. I have no idea where he is now, probably staying at the family estate in central Maryland, where it’s cooler. But when all this madness is over, I’ll write him to see what can be done. He might know of lawyers in Jamaica who can file the will and get justice for Molly and Trey.”
“It’s certainly worth trying,” Gordon agreed. “You’re not attempting to steal something you aren’t entitled to. You’re just making it possible for your husband’s wishes to be carried out.”
“That is both true and an elegant rationalization.” She chuckled. “I’m so glad for your varied talents.”
“All of them at your service, Catkin.” His gaze shifted to the waterfront ahead of them. Sleek two-masted Baltimore clippers were moored at the wharves, and a similar ship was under construction in a shipyard. A ship’s bell tolled mournfully nearby. “This is obviously Fell’s Point, the shipbuilding community.”
“The birthplace of so many of the ships that harassed British shipping. I’ve heard that over a thousand British ships have been taken by American privateers.”
Gordon whistled softly. “No wonder the British call Baltimore a nest of pirates!”
“Yes, it’s become a badge of honor here.” Her amusement faded. “If the British do manage to conquer the city, Fell’s Point will surely be razed to the ground.”
“I don’t think the British will get this far. You should see our earthworks!”
She laughed, and by mutual consent they turned to retrace their steps. It was almost dark by the time they reached the warehouse. As Callie felt her way up the long staircase to their living quarters, she said, “One of the first things Josh did when they moved in was put railings on both sides of these stairs. Very useful when climbing them in the dark without a lantern.”
“He might do well starting a carpentry shop. Baltimore is a growing town, so good carpenters are in demand.”
“I think he’d love to have his own business.”
They had nearly reached the top of the steps, so it was time to make a move. “Callie?”
“Yes?” She stopped and turned to him. In the darkness, she was a shapely shadow, a faint scent of lavender, and a pale face. “What do you want?”
He was two steps below so he moved one step higher, which put their faces on the same level. “Only this.”
Keeping one hand on a railing for balance, he leaned forward and kissed her. In the darkness, his lips first touched her cheek, but it was easy enough to find her mouth.
She sighed, her mouth softening and one hand rising to rest on his shoulder. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss, but he circled his other arm around her waist and drew her closer so that their bodies touched. She was soft and warm, molding to him.
