Page 54 of Claiming the Tower
“We had a little time to talk, and I don’t think he felt anything.” Saying it might make it more true. She wanted that truth. Then she swallowed. “What do we need to do? Is there any word from my brothers?”
“I will do what’s needed for the moment and write a message for the undertakers and the solicitors.” The Healer looked up. “If you would like to keep vigil, of course, that is an option. But I will be here, and you might want to be rested in the morning.”
It was a knife-edge of a challenge. “I’ll— thank you. If you’d stay until I come back, or Bess does.” She rose then, feeling the ache of having been in one position far too long. Bess was sitting on a chair outside in the hall, and as soon as she saw Hereswith, she opened her arms.
“Come upstairs, for a little. I have tea up there, and—” She suddenly sounded uncertain.
“Upstairs. I, I’d like to lie down for a little, at least.” Hereswith hesitated, then added, “It was peaceful. I said what I hoped to say. And he— I know he had everything in order, at least.” There were far too many deaths where that wasn’t the case. Mama’s, for example, though that had been why Papa had been so insistent on tending to his affairs and making sure more than just Hereswith knew his wishes.
“There’s been no word from your brothers. I suppose someone could do a charm?” Hereswith had not thought of that. It wasn’t something she knew, but it was not terribly difficult, given shared blood or hair or something of the kind.
“Will you cut a lock of mine, where it won’t show, and send one of the footmen with it? The solicitors will know who, whoever is there first.” It was Sunday, but someone would be checking the office in case of some urgent issue.
“Sound idea.” Without ever being overbearing about it, Bess guided Hereswith upstairs, into changing into a nightgown, and getting into bed. And then she came in too, settling on her back, offering an arm around Hereswith, and just being there, with no expectation or comment. Bess said nothing, but she didn’t need to, not with words. Her being there meant the world.
Hereswith hadn’t expected to sleep, but somehow she did. She woke, a couple of times, once when it was still pitch dark. Then again she woke as the light was beginning to change, to find herself curled against Bess’s side, head on her shoulder and breast, and Bess not quite snoring. The sound was infinitely reassuring. Life and company reinforced each breath.
Hereswith took a breath, considering the warding. She’d know if her brothers had turned up, and they had not. The only people she could feel in the house were the ones who had been here when she came home. Well, one less, and that was a tender and sore spot in her magic, as well as her heart. She’d have to think about that more later. There was nothing she could do about that problem until others were awake for the day, so she made a mumbling noise, burrowed against Bess’s warmth again, and went back to sleep as best she could.
Chapter 36
The next morning
Hereswith woke, slow and her brain full of fog, but aware someone was moving around the room. She put her hand down. Then she heard a slight cough. “Over here.”
Bess was awake, dressed, and in black, her hair pinned up, looking severe. It hit Hereswith again, what had happened last night, what had changed, how it would always be changed. She pushed herself awkwardly, sitting. “What time is it?”
“Half ten. Your brothers have sent messages. They’ll be here in an hour. I gather the solicitors sent someone around first thing, two hours ago?” Bess gestured. “There’s tea and toast in the sitting room, and Mary said you have a black dress ready.”
Hereswith did. For one thing, one of her colleagues had quietly pointed out that there might be a need to attend a funeral. And unlike Blanch, who avoided that problem by wearing black all the time, the rest of them had to have something suitable at hand. Also, while Hereswith had hoped she’d have years more with Papa, she had known she might need black for him, far sooner than they’d wanted. “Yes.” She swung her legs out of the blankets as Bess came and handed her a dressing gown. “I should, could she run a bath?”
There was a sudden fear that she thought she knew how Papa had arranged his will, and it wasn’t as if her brothers would turn her out of her home. But it might not be her home for much longer. She knew Papa had made an addendum a month ago, but not what it was. It had been properly witnessed, of course, and he’d mentioned it to her brothers as well, so it wouldn’t surprise them. But she did not actually know the details of how he’d left things.
Fussing now wouldn’t help anything. “And this afternoon?”
“I’ll start the bath as soon as you’ve eaten a little. The solicitors thought it would be better to lay out the bequests immediately. It may take a few days for the funeral arrangements, but the undertakers have a proposal for you.” Bess hesitated. “I don’t know what your family customs are about All Hallows, whether before then or after would be preferable.”
“Oh.” It was not a question Hereswith had given particular thought to. She counted days of the week. Some of the Council would likely come, unless it was an entirely private service. Papa had a number of friends, fellow scholars, people who he’d liked, who might come. “I suppose I’ll see what they advise. We don’t have strong customs, but whatever happens, I’ll want some time on my own on the thirty-first to reflect. I have for Mama all these years.”
“If you’d like company, I’d be honoured to join you. If it’s a private thing, tell me where not to be.” Bess’s voice wasn’t joking. She was serious, but it had a gentle lightness to it that was actually a help. “Here. Have a little to eat, then we can go downstairs. Set me for whatever you need. Cook’s working on a cold collation for luncheon, that people can eat as they wish, and something lighter for supper.”
“Thank you.” Hereswith rubbed at her cheek. “Have you done this before? For someone else?”
Bess’s face softened. “Helped with arrangements, yes, but not for someone I actually liked. Or helping someone I cared about far more than just liking? Tell me if something’s not helpful, or not as you wish.”
“I thought...” When she’d had nightmares about this day, over the years, or at least unsettled dreams, she’d always expected she’d be alone to deal with it. She was competent too. A funeral and everything that came with it had protocols and etiquette. She knew every bit of it and what other people would be judging her for. She’d assumed she would see to all of that, and her brothers would be there, and maybe their wives or her nieces and nephews would help. But here was Bess, warm and ready and yet also not taking control. It was entirely unexpected and exceedingly welcome.
Over the next hour, Bess shepherded her through eating enough to be going on with, then having a bath, choosing some salve that would ease her hands a little. Then Bess and Mary between them got her into a proper mourning dress, with Mary murmuring that she’d already sent a note around to the dressmaker to have several others made up for her current measurements. Hereswith had glanced at Bess, and Mary promptly said, “And if you’d give permission for the account, for Mistress Marley, too?”
“Yes, enough for her needs. I suspect I may wish her to accompany me in public at times in the coming months.” They hadn’t talked about it at all, what happened next. But Bess did not seem startled by this.
Then it was back downstairs to sit vigil. Healer Oglethorpe excused himself once she was there, and half an hour later, her brothers turned up, separately. She left them to sit vigil, and found the senior solicitor, Magister Bryce, waiting for her. Someone had set up chairs in the sitting room— better than the library, really— in a circle, enough for everyone. Including, as she counted, Bess.
“Who is expected for the reading, Magister?” Hereswith asked.
“Yourself, your brothers and their wives— there are bequests to their children, but those are more rote. The staff. And Mistress Marley.” His eyebrow went up, and Hereswith blinked, but did not ask further. “I am glad to wait until your brothers are ready, but am at your disposal.”
The thing she couldn’t figure out was whether he was speaking to her as mistress of the house for two decades now, or as mistress of the house for some time to come. Or, honestly, as Council Member, and therefore ranking basically everyone else in Albion just by breathing. If one were formal about precedence. She was still recalibrating how that last point affected things, and she expected she would be for months or years to come. Now, she just nodded, and went off to murmur in ears, and then tell Bess.
