“Yes,” said Lettice, “I think we shall be very happy here, owls and all.”
SEVEN
The carriage took Thomasin and Giles across the city into Holborn and through an imposing red brick gatehouse. Inside, a vast complex of buildings sprawled like a palace, with a central square around a fountain. A passing clerk directed them towards the offices which lay on the second floor, towards a corner turret where two walls met, through an arched door and up a steep flight of steps.
“Mr Ambrose Brown?” asked Giles, knocking upon the first door, as instructed.
The door swung open to reveal a short, middle-aged man in the furred robes of a lawyer, his red beard trimmed closely, his blue eyes bright and intelligent.
“Lord and Lady Waterson? Come in. Forgive my humble quarters.”
The humble quarters were sizeable, with a bay window overlooking the courtyard, and shelves of books and documents around a large desk piled with papers. Two chairs and a silver salver bearing a decanter and glasses awaited them.
“Please, have a seat. How was your journey from Suffolk?”
Thomasin looked around while Giles talked. It was strange to be in a place such as this, with no other women around, and men studying, reading, writing letters, hidden away in these little cluttered rooms. Her eyes ran over the shelves with their reams of yellowing paper, some manuscripts bound at the edge, others in black leather with gold lettering, more in green and a few in red, containing so many words. She wondered what they were all used for; did Mr Ambrose take them down and consult past cases, or did they sit aside gathering dust?
“Lady Waterson?”
Her attention snapped back. “Yes?”
“Is it your intention to reside at Monk’s Place?”
“Reside? Oh no, not permanently. Our estate in Suffolk will always be our main home.”
“Part of the year, then, perhaps?”
She looked to Giles. “We’ve not really reached a decision. It’s been too soon.”
“We like the idea of having a house in the city,” Giles put in. “I imagine we will use it infrequently, for visits and certain occasions.”
“So the house will not be occupied for much of the year?”
“We can hardly give numbers,” Giles continued. “Does it matter?”
“Well, perhaps.” Brown consulted the papers before him. “There is a clause I noticed that the house must be occupied, not left to dust. Let me find it. Ah, here, yes, as I thought. Matthew Russell wished that Monk’s Place be continuously inhabited so as not to fall vacant or into decay. He makes particular mention of the garden being cared for. He wished for it to remain a well-kept residence as befitted the affection he felt for the place.”
“But surely my uncle did not intend for us to move to London permanently?” Thomasin asked. “He knew we would not wish to do so.”
Brown put down his papers. “It is a condition of inheritance.”
“But there are ways round this, surely,” said Giles. “Although we may not be resident at the house all the time, we might retain staff there. That way it will always be occupied and cared for.”
“That would be a start. But it is hardly the home that I believe Sir Russell desired it to continue.”
Giles frowned. “Perhaps a tenant, then? Someone trusted. A member of the family even, or the house might be used by other friends visiting from the country?”
“I am sure there are ways around this,” said Mr Brown. “I have done my duty in reading the conditions to you, and so long as you agree to abide by them, my role is complete.”
Thomasin looked at Giles. “I do accept the conditions of inheritance. We will ensure the house is lived in and looked after as my uncle wished, with special attention paid to the gardens. It will be a family home.”
“Very good.”
“And may I take this opportunity to thank you for the provision you made for our arrival. Williams has proven an excellent steward, preparing the house and seeing that all our needs are met.”
“He was personally recommended by Sir Russell in the terms of his will. Speaking of which, there are other bequests. One moment.”
He called to a clerk outside, who brought in a small chest and set it down on the table. Brown stood up to delve into it, pulling out a cloth bag, which he handed to Thomasin.
