A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(2)
“As your uncle’s executor,” he said, hanging on to formality by a hair’s breadth, “I can tell you that to mitigate your own particular situation, he has left the remainder of his estate to you.” And blast the chit. Now he’d blurted it out without any preparation of what was to follow. He took refuge in the contents of his plate.
Verity’s eyes widened just as he’d prophesied. “Uncle James has left his money to me? To me, Charles?”
“After the annuity for your mother has been taken out, yes. He considered the senior branch of the Harrington family to have sufficient for their purposes.”
“Goodness, I don’t imagine that pleased them.”
Charles’s precarious gravity wavered. “I have attended more harmonious readings of the will.”
The late Admiral Harrington’s parents and older brother hadn’t quite seen the loss of his considerable prize money in the same light as he had. There had been remarkably high words spoken at the funeral. Charles needed another moment to recover his equilibrium, remembering the uncharacteristic grave delight with which his senior partner had read out the terms of the will. There was no love lost there, despite Tweedie & Tweedie having been the family’s legal advisers from time immemorial. “You are his niece,” he said.
“I am. And it is true that the merest mention of Grandmother Harrington and my eldest uncle were enough to drive Uncle James to the brandy decanter. I am simply so used to everything going to John, I forget he and Kitty are only Mama’s step-children and thus not related to the Harringtons at all. This is wonderful, Charles. May I be practical? How much will it bring in per annum?”
When had Verity acquired a smattering of Latin? He must ask Julia. “We will not know the exact figure until your uncle’s outstanding accounts are settled. I shall begin work on those as soon as I return to town. However, I would be remiss in my duty if I did not inform you that there are... conditions on your bequest.”
“Conditions?”
Under that bright scrutiny, Charles shifted in his seat. He glanced at his plate but the macaroons had been eaten and the tea drunk. He had neglected to take small bites, as Mr Tweedie always advised, should prevarication be required during an awkward conversation. Rather basely, he put this oversight down to Verity’s account too.
He cleared his throat. “Whilst deploring your situation in general, Admiral Harrington was concerned that a sudden acquisition of wealth might cause you to give yourself completely to frivolity. According to a frankly amateurish codicil that I assure you neither Mr Tweedie nor I knew anything about, he had seen some evidence for this belief on a visit he made here during the summer. To counteract any such tendency, you must prove you have spent six months in a wholly rational manner before anything more than pin money can be released to you.”
Verity gave a peal of laughter. “I am to read my Bible for half-an-hour every morning before breakfast, is that it?”
Despite himself, Charles smiled. “Would your uncle consider that rational?”
“He would not. He nearly came to blows with Reverend Milsom on his last visit because the silly man had chosen The Storm At Sea as his text for the sermon and tied in a great many unlikely occurrences, finishing off with the pouring of oil on troubled water, all of which my uncle as a naval man took exception to. What the vicar was really after was to tell John and Farmer Quigley they shouldn’t quarrel over the fishpond, but it was all for nothing as John was unwell so did not attend church. Even if he had, he would have had no idea that the sermon was in any way directed at him.”
“Miss Bowman, you are incorrigible.”
She flashed a smile at him. “Dearest Charles, do please stop calling me Miss Bowman. I keep thinking you have taken me in dislike.”
“I am here as your uncle’s man of business, Verity. I am soon to be your own. A little formality is in order.”
“Nonsense. One cannot be formal with a person one has known since the cradle. Tell me what I must do. How absurd of Uncle James to make such a condition. It must have been when here was here for the July meeting, do you not think, Mama? But if he will arrive when we are doing our best to make the most of the grimmest summer weather I can remember, what does he expect? We so rarely go out for our own amusement otherwise.”
“I believe he wished to ensure that you are not as empty-headed as you occasionally pretend,” said Charles drily.
Verity sighed. “It is the sad lot of women to be misunderstood by their menfolk. I have often remarked it.”
“Is that so? And yet you did nothing to countermand your uncle’s impression of your character?”
“If I had known that was what he wanted, I would have done,” said Verity, looking vexed. “But how was I to discover it? Your own excellent family may encourage conversation, Charles, but Papa preferred docility in his womenfolk. He did not approve of Mama and me discussing events taking place in the wider world. We were supposed to sit in silent admiration of his every word and take our opinions from him. One would think we had never learnt to read and were not competent to peruse a newspaper on our own.”
Charles winced. She had painted an accurate picture of many of the families who gave Mr Tweedie their patronage. He deplored the attitude but had never sought to change it for fear of losing their business. Now he comprehended how irksome such a practice must be for anyone dependent on the head of the household’s good humour. Perhaps he should not be so circumspect in the future.