Chapter Seven
Sitting at thekitchen table, staring at their lists of debts and assets, Eli castigated himself. A call to meet with creditors had not been one of his better ideas. There’d been pushing and shoving over the nasty bit claiming gambling debts, some arguments over place in line, and the predictable demands for immediate payment that had threatened to get out of hand. They were lucky there had not been a riot.
Worst of all, it left Fanny—Miss Hancock—on the brink of collapse.She doesn’t even know the worst of what Edwards threatened.At least Eli hoped she didn’t. The words sickened him.“I’ll take that sister in place of cash if you don’t pay me.”
Over my dead body.
Crowd noises had drowned out the threat, but Eli had heard it clearly enough. Unfortunately, the crowd had gotten to the lowlife scum first, shoving him aside before Eli could wipe the pavement with his slime. Eli knew Wil had heard the threat; Eli made a mental note to speak with the boy about not alarming his sister.
For now, they faced financial reconning. Fanny leaned her elbows on the table, her head in her hands, not even looking at their completed lists.
“We can do this tomorrow,” he said, sliding a hand across to stroke her arm.
She dropped her hands, ignoring his touch. “Will the size of the debt change?”
He shook his head sadly. “Your idea to return the jeweled stickpins helped. The jeweler took them gladly.”
“But we still owe him over a hundred quid. How could Horace buy that many gifts for women in a year? Women!” She shuddered. “At least I assume more than one, or there’s a rich courtesan somewhere in Manchester.”
Eli’s lips twitched. “From what you’ve said about Rundle, I would guess he had no other way to attract female attention.”
“But to leave us with debts for that sort of behavior!”
“Not us, Fanny, me.” Wil stood at the top of the stairs. He’d had the job of locking up. “Did you hear Edwards?” The boy came and sat with them.
“I heard him say the debt was yours, yes, but—”
Wil directed his attention to Eli. “He’s right, isn’t he? I’m my father’s heir. Except—” He scratched his head. “Isn’t the store Fanny’s? It was Mother’s, wasn’t it?”
Eli pulled his attention from Fanny and his worry that she’d heard all of what Edwards had said.The law, Benson; think rationally and answer the boy.
“The store was your mother’s, I’ve gathered. Unfortunately, what was hers became his when she married, and he died intestate—without a will. Unless your grandfather’s will specifically left it to your older sister, it is, in fact, yours—or yours and Amy’s equally, Miss Fanny not being related to Rundle by blood or law. The ordinary will appoint someone to administer the estate until you are twenty-one and can act for yourself and Amy.” He let out a deep breath.
Wil’s eyes got larger as Eli rattled that off. “Could Fanny administer?”
Eli searched the face of the woman he admired. Good question. “If I may be so bold, Miss Hancock, how old are you?”
Fanny sat up straight and lifted her chin. “I was twenty last September.”
Eli’s heart and less respectable body parts took joy in that, relieved he hadn’t been lusting after a child, and he suspected he smiled, because Wil and Fanny smiled back. He needed to correct their misunderstanding. “I’m afraid not, Wil. She would need to be twenty-one.”
“I will be in three months!” Fanny had her armor on again.
“Even then, a male relative might get preference, depending on the judge.” As if that weren’t enough to squash their hopes, he went on, feeling like a brute. “Until we sort out Rundle’s debts and assets, we won’t know if there is anything to inherit, so it may all be a moot point.”
Fanny frowned but didn’t crumple. She met his gaze head-on. “In that case, Mr. Benson, sooner faced, sooner done. Let’s look at what we have.” She pulled over the list of debts to study it.
“Is there a way to create an order of importance?” Eli asked.
“Abbot the greengrocer first,” she said.
“The mortgage, perhaps? It is pressing and…”
“And impossible,” she said.
“We’ll set it to the side, remembering that it looms over everything. Home necessities first, then?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “The family and the legitimate business expenses first. Horace’s personal indulgences move to the bottom.”
