Page 55 of Claiming the Tower
Twenty minutes later, everyone was in the sitting room, supplied with tea. Magister Bryce opened with the usual sort of comments. His condolences on their loss, his quite genuine appreciation for their father, and a tactful hope that he and his firm could continue to be of service to the family. The will began with the smaller requests. Comfortable amounts to the staff. Those included the confirmation of pensions and life rights to live in cottages owned by the estate for all the staff who’d been with them for more than ten years. That was generous, but just like Papa.
There were various other bequests to charities and institutions, the amounts listed out and passed around on sheets. That was entirely as Hereswith had expected. The next set of comments gave her brothers each a substantial portion, and a smaller one for each child.
Magister Bryce looked up and said, “Magister Rowan made the next arrangements six weeks ago, witnessed by myself and one of the senior clerks. It was properly registered in the Courts after his ability to make a binding will was confirmed by his Healer and a neutral consultant.” Hereswith blinked at that, because that was what someone did if they expected it to be contested. In fact, Magister Bryce went on, “A codicil clarifies that contesting it will have consequences. In my professional opinion, any form of contest would have nil chance of success. Magister Rowan was quite careful of the formalities.”
Everyone sat, silent, though Hereswith’s brothers were looking concerned. They’d been happy enough about the amounts settled on them, though. Magister Bryce went on. “To Mistress Elisabeth Marley, known as Bess, is left a sum in trust and life right to live in one of the estate cottages at the estate’s expense if she wishes. This is granted in gratitude for her kindness and care in Magister Rowan’s last days, to both himself and Magistra Rowan.” The sum he mentioned made Hereswith’s eyes widen. That was more than enough that Bess did not need to worry about funds for years, if that. Carefully managed, possibly for the rest of her life, given the use of the cottage without rent or maintenance costs.
Before Hereswith could so much as think of anything further to say, Magister Bryce went on. “The remaining estate along with this house, Verdant Court, is left entire and complete, with all chattels, possessions, property, household items, contents of the library, art, and other goods, to Hereswith Rowan. He does so that she might have the resources to entertain in a style suitable for a member of Albion’s Council and to uphold the high standards of hospitality and attention that she values.” Her brothers might choose items in memory, but it was Hereswith’s choice whether that was permitted.
Hereswith felt her mouth open, closed it, folded her hands firmly in her lap, and took a deep breath. When she looked up, everyone was waiting for her to speak. Hereswith looked around, then said, carefully. “Papa has always been careful to plan for the future, and we are all fortunate for it, aren’t we? Of course, if there are items you wish, I am glad to discuss that. And delighted to continue hosting for the holidays or other times when a larger space would be helpful. Supper, of course, as we have every few weeks.” She was trying to make it normal, and it wasn’t, but that would have to do.
Slowly, tumbling over the words a few times, her brothers made their own comments in the same vein. Of course, that was what Father wanted, they wouldn’t argue. They asked a question or two about arrangements for the funeral, then took themselves off to sit with Papa.
Hereswith was kept busy through the rest of the afternoon and supper. By then, the awkwardness had decreased, though Hereswith was fairly certain they had the wrong end of something. Bess had stayed handy, but always the next room over, so it wasn’t as if she were looming. It wasn’t until they’d retired upstairs, her brothers in guest rooms, that they had a chance to talk.
Bess knocked tentatively as Mary was helping Hereswith with her hair. “Come in, Bess. Thank you, Mary. Can you have breakfast ready in the morning and brush out the dress for tomorrow?”
“Of course, Mistress.” She bobbed. “And if tomorrow would be convenient, it would be a help to know how to arrange things for this week.”
Hereswith nodded. “Tomorrow morning, if you’d let the staff know. Thank you.” Mary slipped out and Hereswith held out a hand to Bess. “Will you come to bed?”
“You need sleep. Also, I’d—” Bess stopped. “I can’t believe your father did that.”
“I am fairly certain that my brothers are wondering if you were, well, a particularly female sort of help in these last weeks,” Hereswith said. There wasn’t a delicate way to put it, but she certainly had seen enough affairs at a certain distance, along with that sort of thing. A younger woman tending to an older man, and generously rewarded beyond the obvious service.
“You— you don’t think that, do you?” Bess took half a step back.
Hereswith stood, then. “Hush, no. But you made Papa happy. You kept him company when I could not. And as he said, you made me smile the right way. I think he hoped I wouldn’t be alone now. But at the same time, he wanted to give you enough. Independence.”
“Very generous independence. I don’t want to be independent, though. Can we do that?”
“Can we make a life here? Oh, yes. We might make a few changes, I think. But I would like you here with me. To go to sleep with company, I am certain I like that. Possibly other things, too. Not today.”
“Not the day for it, no. Besides, whenever, if we try such things, I want you to be able to immerse yourself fully in the experience.” Bess hesitated. “It won’t cause a scandal?”
“Council Members are not chosen for their lack of scandal, actually. I have been collecting stories about that.” Hereswith felt herself smiling. “Those are also for later, but some of them will curl your hair. But our staff are loyal. We can be private, at home. And in public, well, it is certainly quite ordinary for a woman of my station to have a companion with her at all sorts of events. I was thinking you might do far better than I do at managing some of the social calendar, too.”
Bess snorted. “Certainly. I could take that over and give you more time. More of the household matters, as you feel comfortable too.” She tilted her head. “And as I continue to get a better sense of your tastes.”
“Sometime, I really ought to have you sit down with Marcus to discuss me while my ears burn. He can tell you a few of those that I’d not admit to easily.”
“There, now, that is a challenge to look forward to.” Bess nodded. “All right. And tonight?”
“Come to bed. I want Papa, wherever he is, to know I’m not alone. And neither are you.”
Chapter 37
November 4th
Of course, for all Hereswith’s assurance, the next days were not quite that simple. Bess knew perfectly well that transitions took time, and this was a delicate one. Hereswith was still finding what she wanted. And of course she saw echoes of her father everywhere. Bess did too, and Hereswith must be facing magnitudes more.
Preparing for the funeral had given Bess more of a sense of both the house and the household. The longer she was at Verdant Court, the more she’d come to understand why Hereswith loved it so much. It was not, in the grand scheme of things, a well-designed house. Of course, it had not been designed as one, but rather as an abbey, which explained the odd shapes and sizes of the rooms, or the fact the staff rooms were mostly on the ground floor, tucked into the rise of the hill.
The staff had been braced for the needs of a funeral for some time. Hereswith had, apparently, discussed her father’s preferences with them months ago, in a time before Bess had met any of them. Even, she thought, before she and Hereswith had been talking more than entirely in passing in the Field. Now, all of those plans were put in motion. Bess had been a help with that, especially being a public face of the family, assisting, slipping from being Master Rowan’s companion to Hereswith’s, almost seamlessly.
Bess had been the one to label the flowers and wreaths as they arrived. She’d been the one to sort out the seating arrangements. The funeral itself was outdoors, with burial in the family cemetery to follow. Bess had wondered if there would be some kind of funeral pyre, or a boat sunk in the nearest lake. But no, there were readings of verse and prose in four languages: English, of course, but also Latin, Anglo-Saxon, and French.
Hereswith and her brothers had all said a few words. Master Rowan had outlived many of his friends from his own generation. But there was a host of people a generation or two younger who had seen him as a mentor and then friend, from a range of fields. Many of them had made condolence calls before the funeral itself, as well as sending any number of letters and wreaths and tokens.
