Charles Palliser (140 page)

“Why should he and my guardian have feared that they would lose the suit?”

Henrietta asked.

“And how would producing the will save them?” I added.

“Oh dear,” said Miss Lydia, “I am explaining it badly. The reason is that when Mr Paternoster sold my father the will, he quarrelled with him over the price, and as an act of spite he warned him afterwards that the disputed codicil was also still in existence.”

I nodded at this since I had long known about the wretched codicil, but Henrietta looked puzzled again.

“However, my family were never sure that it really did exist and that this was not just a cruel joke. Indeed, I believe it was first known for certain that the codicil existed only when your poor mother, John, sent a copy of it to my nevy in support of her claim to the annuity.”

“But I still don’t understand how the will could protect them!” I protested.

“Well,” the old lady went on, “to explain that I have to tell you a great deal of ancient history.”

It was not to be, however, for Henrietta glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece and exclaimed: “Gracious heavens! Look at the time! John, you must go this minute.”

There was no gain-saying this and so, with agreement from both sides that we would try to meet at the same time the following Sunday, I left the room and returned to my quarters.

I thought about Henrietta over and over again during the days that followed. Why did I care so much that she might disapprove of my having carried out MARRIAGE DESIGNS

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the burglary and of what I was planning now? I hated not having told her the whole truth and resolved to tell her as much of it as I dared. Why was her opinion of me so important? Why was I so hurt and angry that she appeared not to believe me when I told her that the Clothiers and their agents had tried to kill me? I must be in love with her. Was this what was meant by “love”?

The next Sunday when I came to Miss Lydia’s room I found only Henrietta there. We were embarrassed at finding ourselves alone.

“My great-aunt will be along soon,” she said. “Aunt Isabella has asked to see her.”

I seated myself. I had the chance to plead my cause and I wanted to confess to my part in the burglary:

“Henrietta, you wanted to know why I am in this house. You have heard how the will was misappropriated and my grandfather cheated. I am his heir. Don’t you think I have the right to the estate?”

“Are you not confusing legality with justice?” she asked. “Are you not making the mistake of believing that you can found a moral claim upon the quirks and accidents of the law? By doing that you are doing what you say the Mompessons and the Clothiers have done, though I grant you that your legal and moral claim may be better than theirs.”

“There is no comparison! Jeoffrey Huffam wished to entail the property upon his grandson’s heirs and that wish was illegally and immorally frustrated!”

I now told her much of what Mr Escreet had told me, but the consequence was not what I had hoped.

“I perceive,” Henrietta persisted, “that in making that final will Jeoffrey Huffam was breaking his undertaking to Silas Clothier’s father, disinheriting his own son, and getting his revenge against members of his family with whom he had quarrelled. Do you really believe that such a man’s last will should carry any moral weight?”

I said nothing and she went on: “And, after all, Sir Hugo bought the estate in good faith, so do you have a moral right to dispossess his heirs even if you have the legal right?”

“But when he found out about the purloined will he did nothing. And Sir Perceval has continued to suppress it, thereby cheating my family.”

“But what could you expect? To have admitted the truth would have meant ruin: the loss of the property and the purchase-money.”

“Of course you defend Sir Perceval and Lady Mompesson,” I exclaimed.

Could it be that her motives were simply self-interested? That she could not forget that the prosperity of her guardians was to her own advantage? Did she even have designs on David?

She flushed: “I care nothing for them. They have never been kind to me. I have never understood why they adopted me.”

“Don’t you at least feel gratitude?”

“Gratitude? For charity offered out of mere duty and concern with appearance? For I can only assume that those were their motives.”

“Then why do you defend them?”

“They have their rights.”

Her attitude was perverse.

“But what of mine?” I protested. “Here I am penniless, barely educated, and friendless. What hope have I of being able to live not merely as a gentleman but in any tolerable way at all? Not only that, but now that the codicil is in force my 644 THE

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life will be in danger for as long as Silas Clothier lives. Only by regaining the will and overturning the codicil can I become safe. Do you really deny that I have the right to do that?”

“I understand!” she cried. “That is why you are in this house! You intend to steal the will!”

So the secret was out now. Nothing was to be gained by denying it.

“To regain it!” I cried. “To restore it to the Court to which it belongs.”

“Then use the law to do it!”

“That would require money,” I objected. “And anyway, Sir Perceval would destroy it rather than surrender it for, as your aunt and I have explained, if it came to light he would forfeit the estate.”

“Are you certain? For in that case I don’t understand why he has kept it?”

“Neither do I. Your aunt was going to explain that last time.”

There was a pause while she scrutinised me.

“Why are you so set upon this?” she demanded suddenly.

“I have told you!”

“No, I mean what are your real motives? You talk of rights but I believe you want revenge.”

“Revenge?” I repeated in astonishment. “No. I simply want Justice. I want to make order and meaning out of the randomness and injustice I have seen all my life. If I cannot do this then nothing has any meaning. If the Mompessons can lie and cheat to obtain and keep their wealth, then why should any other criminal be condemned? All that my family has endured — murder, the madhouse, what was done to my mother —

all these things will have counted for nothing if I cannot regain the will.”

“This is the language of revenge,” she said passionately. “I understand, for I too have reason to hate my guardians. Oh, not so potent as yours, nothing like.”

“What do you mean?” I demanded.

“Oh, it’s of no matter now. And yet you saw how Tom tormented me that summer at Hougham. Though in some ways Tom is the least unkind of them. But to desire revenge is to repay one injustice with another.”

“But in my case it is not the wrongs that I, but that others whom I loved, have suffered that inspire me.”

“Then if it is not revenge,” Henrietta said sadly, “it is vengeance, and that is much more insidious. For you can so easily disguise your motives as the desire for justice.”

“That is not true!” I exclaimed, and without reflecting I blurted out: “Your great-aunt had no desire for revenge.”

“What can you mean?”

There was nothing for it now but to tell her the truth: “Do you remember how I said last week that when my grandfather had bought the codicil, he intended to lay it before the Court but then suddenly changed his plans? The reason was that someone in this household wrote telling him about the will and promising to obtain it. That was Miss Liddy and she was as good as her word, though somehow the will was returned to your guardian.”

Henrietta was clearly dumbfoundered.

She shook her head: “Great-aunt Liddy could do such a thing?”

At that moment Miss Lydia entered the room: “I am glad you are still here, John,” she said gaily, smiling at both of us. “My niece sent word that she wished to see me which is most unusual, so I went to her room but she did not come. It MARRIAGE DESIGNS

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is most puzzling. Perhaps Perceval’s surgeon is with her. I know he was weaker today.

He has been steadily worsening since his seizure last week.”

She broke off when she saw the way Henrietta was looking at her. She glanced at me as if for an explanation.

“Miss Liddy,” I said, “I’m afraid I told her how you helped my grandfather.”

“And you are shocked,” she said to Henrietta. “My dear, I did it because I thought it a shameful thing that my father had done. I had long contemplated it but I only acted at last because by doing so I could save a young woman from a terrible fate.”

Henrietta looked at her in surprise.

“Did you not explain, John?” the old lady asked. “You remember, Henrietta, that John’s grandfather was trying to force his daughter into marriage with the odious elder son of Silas Clothier? That is something that I could not permit. By offering him the will, I rendered the match of no advantage to him.”

“If ever it could be right to steal,” Henrietta said slowly, “then I suppose it was so then.”

“ ‘Steal’! Don’t use that word!” Miss Lydia cried.

“No, ‘regain’ is the right word,” I said. “It was right then and it is right now. For by laying the will before the Court I become the outright owner of the estate, and that is the only way I can be safe from the Clothiers.” Watching Henrietta closely I said :

“Therefore I shall go ahead with an attempt to regain the will.”

“Yes,” cried Miss Lydia. “Of course that is what you must do!”

“Why,” Henrietta asked, “can you not declare yourself to the Court as the Huffam heir before the time-limit expires and put yourself under its protection?”

“As I did before when I was handed over to Daniel Porteous and then Dr Alabaster?”

I objected. “You don’t seem to believe me when I say that I am in peril until old Clothier is dead.”

“If your safety is your main concern,” Henrietta said, “then why do you not simply allow yourself to be declared dead by the Court?”

I was taken aback.

“Then your guardians would lose the estate,” I pointed out, “for it would pass immediately to Silas Clothier.”

She nodded. Then her motives were not simply mercenary as I had feared, for if the Mompessons were bankrupted she would be destitute. And by accepting this suggestion I would prove to her that mine were not mercenary either. Miss Lydia was watching me closely and gravely with her piercing blue eyes.

“I believe that is the right course,” I said. “I will give up this degrading work and try to find a place worthier of me, though with no money and scant education I have little hope.”

Henrietta smiled and, leaning forward, pressed my hand: “I am sure that is the honourable solution.”

“My dear children,” said Miss Lydia, “I have something important to tell you in the light of which I am certain you will change your minds.”

Henrietta and I looked at each other in alarm.

“What can you mean, Great-aunt?” Henrietta asked.

“It is the question of the purloined will that I was about to explain to you last week when we had to break off. Since it establishes that the Mompessons have no title to the estate, then why has my nevy — like his father before him — kept it instead of destroying it?”

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“This is the very point that has puzzled me ever since I learned of its existence,” I said. “For they ran the risk of its being used to dispossess them. What possible benefit could it confer that made that risk worth taking?”

“It’s all so complicated that I don’t know if I can ever make it clear,” the old lady began with a droll smile. “My poor head begins to ache when I start to think about it. I believe I understand it until I start to ponder on it and then the explanation goes flying off in a thousand different directions in a shower of words: codicils and judgements and instruments and orders and all those other ugly terms associated with the law and Chancery that have cursed our families for more than half a century. But first I have to explain a lot of family history so that you will understand why it is that as soon as the Huffam line is declared extinct, my nevy will produce the purloined will.”

“And so it will supersede the codicil ! “ I cried. Then as the further implications struck me, I shouted: “So Silas Clothier will have no claim!”

“That is so,” the old lady replied. “But what do you imagine will become of the estate?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “since I do not know what the will specified beyond the fact that it entailed the property on my grandfather. But surely the estate will no longer belong to your nephew?”

“You are right,” Miss Lydia agreed smiling with pleasure at the game. “This is better than ‘Speculation’. And I hold the highest trump.”

“But dear Great-aunt,” Henrietta protested, “if that is so, then why have they kept the will?”

“Because of the identity of the next entailed heir to whom, under its terms, the estate passes once the Huffam line has been declared extinct.”

Henrietta and I looked at each other blankly and then at the old lady.

“Who is that?” I asked. “Isn’t it the Maliphant heir as in the codicil?”

“No,” the old lady said. “The terms of the entail in the will are quite different from the entail created by the codicil.” She paused. “You see, by then Jeoffrey Huffam had quarrelled with his nevy, George Maliphant, and so the will created an entirely new situation in which, if the entail upon his grandson, John Huffam, and his heirs failed, then it went to another branch of our family. The surviving heir of that branch would become the absolute owner under the will.”

“Who is that?” Henrietta and I both asked.

“Wait,” she said, glancing down for a moment. “I will tell you everything. It all goes back many many years to when I was about the age of you children. And that is nearly seventy years ago.” Seeing my surprise she said: “Yes, I am as old as that. (Why, I am almost as old as this house, which was built for my father.) I have never told you this story, Henrietta, for it is too painful. But you should know it. You are old enough now.”

She paused for a moment with her head lowered again, then raised it and went on:

“When my grandfather, Jeoffrey Huffam, added the codicil to his earlier will in 1768 he was on bad terms with almost all of his kin. He was not on any sort of terms then with my parents nor with his niece, my Aunt Amelia. George Maliphant was the only member of his family he was still speaking
to.
But then he quarrelled with him over this business that I have never had the courage to admit to you, Henrietta.” She hesitated. “I fear I was the unwitting cause of the quarrel between my grandfather and my parents, for he had agreed to name their heir as his own since at that date he had no son. But because I was not a boy and therefore would not inherit my father’s title, he refused to do this.”