Read Online A Crowning Mercy by Bernard Cornwell - Free Book Online
Authors: Bernard Cornwell
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delayed. Things must be regular, Mr Scammell. Regular!'
'Indeed and indeed.' Scammell stood to show the lawyer out.
Campion turned from the window. 'Mr Blood, you did not answer my question. What is the Covenant?'
Her father had been embarrassed by the question, but the lawyer shrugged dismissively. 'Your marriage portion, Miss Slythe. The estate, of course, was always destined for your brother, but your father made arrangements for your dowry. I fear I know little more. It was handled by a lawyer in London, but I suspect you will find yourself generously provided for.'
'Indeed.' Scammell nodded at her, eager for her to be pleased.
There was a brief silence. Campion's question had been answered and it had offered her no hope of escaping marriage with Scammell. Then Ebenezer's grating voice was loud in the room. 'What is "generously"? How much is the Covenant worth?'
Isaac Blood shrugged. 'I do not know.'
Scammell raised his eyebrows archly, fidgeted, and looked pleased with himself. He was bursting with his news, eager to impress the beautiful, golden-haired girl whom he wanted to embrace. He wanted Campion to approve of him, to like him, and he hoped that his next words would break the dam of her withheld feelings. 'I can answer that question, indeed I can.' He smiled at Campion. 'Last year, as near as we can judge, the Covenant yielded ten thousand pounds.'
'Dear God!' Isaac Blood held on to the lectern.
Ebenezer stood up slowly, his face animated for the first time that day. 'How much?'
'Ten thousand pounds.' Scammell said it humbly, as though he were responsible for the profit yet did not want to sound boastful. 'It fluctuates, of course. Some years more, some less.'
'Ten thousand pounds?' Ebenezer's voice was rising in shocked anger. 'Ten thousand?' It was a sum of such vast proportions that it was scarcely conceivable. A king's ransom, a fortune, a sum far in excess of Werlatton's income. Ebenezer might expect PS700 a year from the estate and now he was hearing that his sister had been given far, far more.
Scammell giggled with pleasure. 'Indeed and indeed.' Now, perhaps, Campion would marry him with a glad heart. They would be rich as few in this world are rich. 'You're surprised, my dear?'
Campion shared her brother's disbelief. Ten thousand pounds! It was an unthinkable sum. She was grasping for understanding and failing, but she remembered the words of the will and ignored Samuel Scammell. 'Mr Blood? Do I comprehend the will to mean that the money becomes mine when I am twenty-five?'
'Quite so, quite so.' Isaac Blood was looking at her with a new respect. 'Not, of course, if you are married, for then the monies will be your dear husband's, as is proper. But should he predecease you,' here Blood made an apologetic motion towards Scammell, 'then, of course, you will take the seal into your own keeping. That much, I think, is clear from the will.'
'The seal?' Ebenezer had limped close to the lectern.
Blood was pouring the last of the malmsey into his glass. 'It merely authenticates the signature on any paper dealing with the Covenant.'
'But where is it, Mr Blood? Where is it?' Ebenezer was unusually animated.
The lawyer drank the sweet wine, then shrugged. 'How would I know, Master Ebenezer? I assume it is in your father's belongings.' He stared regretfully into the empty wine glass. 'You should look for it. I recommend a diligent search.'
He left, after expressing perfunctory but profound sympathies for their sad loss, and Ebenezer and Scammell escorted the lawyer to his horse. Campion was left alone. The sun slanted through leaded windows on to the polished, waxed floorboards. She was still a prisoner here; the fortune of the Covenant changed nothing. She did not understand all the legalities; she only understood that she was trapped.
Samuel Scammell came back into the hall, his shoes squeaking on the boards. 'My dear? Our fortune surprised you?'
She looked wearily at him. 'Leave me alone. Please?
'Indeed and indeed.' Scammell stood to show the lawyer out.
Campion turned from the window. 'Mr Blood, you did not answer my question. What is the Covenant?'
Her father had been embarrassed by the question, but the lawyer shrugged dismissively. 'Your marriage portion, Miss Slythe. The estate, of course, was always destined for your brother, but your father made arrangements for your dowry. I fear I know little more. It was handled by a lawyer in London, but I suspect you will find yourself generously provided for.'
'Indeed.' Scammell nodded at her, eager for her to be pleased.
There was a brief silence. Campion's question had been answered and it had offered her no hope of escaping marriage with Scammell. Then Ebenezer's grating voice was loud in the room. 'What is "generously"? How much is the Covenant worth?'
Isaac Blood shrugged. 'I do not know.'
Scammell raised his eyebrows archly, fidgeted, and looked pleased with himself. He was bursting with his news, eager to impress the beautiful, golden-haired girl whom he wanted to embrace. He wanted Campion to approve of him, to like him, and he hoped that his next words would break the dam of her withheld feelings. 'I can answer that question, indeed I can.' He smiled at Campion. 'Last year, as near as we can judge, the Covenant yielded ten thousand pounds.'
'Dear God!' Isaac Blood held on to the lectern.
Ebenezer stood up slowly, his face animated for the first time that day. 'How much?'
'Ten thousand pounds.' Scammell said it humbly, as though he were responsible for the profit yet did not want to sound boastful. 'It fluctuates, of course. Some years more, some less.'
'Ten thousand pounds?' Ebenezer's voice was rising in shocked anger. 'Ten thousand?' It was a sum of such vast proportions that it was scarcely conceivable. A king's ransom, a fortune, a sum far in excess of Werlatton's income. Ebenezer might expect PS700 a year from the estate and now he was hearing that his sister had been given far, far more.
Scammell giggled with pleasure. 'Indeed and indeed.' Now, perhaps, Campion would marry him with a glad heart. They would be rich as few in this world are rich. 'You're surprised, my dear?'
Campion shared her brother's disbelief. Ten thousand pounds! It was an unthinkable sum. She was grasping for understanding and failing, but she remembered the words of the will and ignored Samuel Scammell. 'Mr Blood? Do I comprehend the will to mean that the money becomes mine when I am twenty-five?'
'Quite so, quite so.' Isaac Blood was looking at her with a new respect. 'Not, of course, if you are married, for then the monies will be your dear husband's, as is proper. But should he predecease you,' here Blood made an apologetic motion towards Scammell, 'then, of course, you will take the seal into your own keeping. That much, I think, is clear from the will.'
'The seal?' Ebenezer had limped close to the lectern.
Blood was pouring the last of the malmsey into his glass. 'It merely authenticates the signature on any paper dealing with the Covenant.'
'But where is it, Mr Blood? Where is it?' Ebenezer was unusually animated.
The lawyer drank the sweet wine, then shrugged. 'How would I know, Master Ebenezer? I assume it is in your father's belongings.' He stared regretfully into the empty wine glass. 'You should look for it. I recommend a diligent search.'
He left, after expressing perfunctory but profound sympathies for their sad loss, and Ebenezer and Scammell escorted the lawyer to his horse. Campion was left alone. The sun slanted through leaded windows on to the polished, waxed floorboards. She was still a prisoner here; the fortune of the Covenant changed nothing. She did not understand all the legalities; she only understood that she was trapped.
Samuel Scammell came back into the hall, his shoes squeaking on the boards. 'My dear? Our fortune surprised you?'
She looked wearily at him. 'Leave me alone. Please?
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