Chapter Three

The Will

The next morning Elena slept late and then loitered in her chamber reading sad poems of love and loss. She had allowed Willa to leave a breakfast tray but ate little.

A great deal of snow had fallen during the night, and Elena felt certain that Mr. Coakley would defer his visit. However, at ten sharp the doorbell chimed, and Catlett’s footsteps sounded as he answered the door, followed by the unmistakable hearty tones of Phineas Coakley. She was dressed, but Willa was still doing her hair, and she was obliged to send her to beg Mr. Coakley to rest in the parlor and warm himself at the fire for a few minutes.

When Elena descended the staircase, however, she found Mr. Coakley in the kitchen with the servants. When she entered the room, he appeared to be in deep consultation with Bella and Catlett. Catlett stepped back on her entrance, and all three looked rather guilty, as if she had caught them talking about her. She waited for an explanation, but the servants slipped away to their duties. Coakley took her arm and led her to the parlor as if she were an invalid.

“Mr. Coakley,” Elena said, as she seated herself, “I did not expect you in this vile weather, and I beg your pardon for keeping you waiting.”

Coakley settled himself in a wing chair with his great portfolio spread across his ample lap. “It is of no account, my dear Miss Bellwood. Perhaps I should have deferred my visit…but…as things stand, I have some justification for haste.”

“What do you mean? Are you going on a journey?”

“No, no, my dear.” Coakley set his portfolio on the carved rosewood table next to his chair and faced her.

“Miss Bellwood, in my career as a solicitor, I have had to occasionally give good people very bad news, and it is a duty I despise. However, it is best to simply state the facts and have done. I have no way to alleviate the pain of what I am about to tell you…but tell you, I must.”

“Mr. Coakley, what on earth do you mean?”

“My dear…you are penniless. Your mother placed liens on everything in order to remain in this house until you were safely wed. You have no estate to inherit; creditors will take it all.”

Elena stared at him, feeling a tremor pass through her body. For a few moments, the shock of his words silenced her.

“But…my mother told me only part of the property was mortgaged and the rest was clear…and the furnishings and paintings have value also, do they not?”

“Yes, certainly they do, but I have learned in the last two days that she borrowed against them. She knew I would not have approved—nor did I approve of the mortgage—so she took out a private loan and used all her remaining property—even including most of her jewelry—as collateral.” He breathed deeply and continued. “I believe, Miss Bellwood, she thought you would marry very prosperously and she could then settle the debts by selling her property, on the assumption that you and your husband would provide her with a home.”

Elena sank back on the settee, looking so distraught that Coakley poured her a sherry and pressed it into her hand.

“I have…nothing? How will I pay the salaries of the servants? Where will I go, what shall I do?”

“I took the liberty of talking to Bella and Catlett. You must write them letters of reference immediately so they can obtain new positions. And you have a new maid—Willa, I believe is her name? If you are pleased with her, you must assist her in finding work. It will be difficult for her because being in a household for a very short time is a black mark on a young servant’s employment record.”

Elena had never thought of such matters before, but of course she must provide for the servants. However, she had other matters on her mind, and she sat up straight and smoothed the skirt of her dark purple day-dress. She turned slowly and faced Mr. Coakley.

“Mr. Coakley, how is it that you allowed my mother to take out the mortgage in the first place? You have been her advisor for many years. Could you not have stopped her?”

“Your question is a fair one,” he replied. “To answer it, I must go back ten years to the time of your father’s death. Shortly before his death, he had come to me to help him draw up his will. For years, he had kept the real state of his finances from your mother because he knew her whole heart was set on rearing you in New York, where you could come out properly and make a good match. He had used his savings and investments imprudently to support her dream. Do not mistake me, my dear; he was a very good man, but he made a very bad decision.”

He paused to clear his throat. Elena was silent, waiting impatiently for the rest of the story.

“When he died, I explained carefully to your mother that she could live on the remainder of her husband’s estate if she removed to a country town where she could live with little expense. A cottage and one servant in the small village in Connecticut where she had been reared would have been affordable, if she carefully husbanded her resources.”

“And she refused?”

“Yes, she was adamant that she would stay in New York, in her house, and maintain the appearance of prosperity. She told me that, as you were turning into a beauty, she had no doubt you would be well married. When that event occurred, she would gladly sell her property to settle her debts.”

Elena sighed. She had been forced to refuse her first suitor…foolish, foolish.

“Mr. Coakley, if such were my mother’s feelings, why did she discourage me from marrying when I had the opportunity?”

“Your mother wanted English nobility for her daughter. I strongly urged her to close with Mr. Fortin’s proposals when you were seventeen. He was a man of extensive means and of good character. And you did not dislike him, I believe.”

“No, I liked him very much.”

“Your mother shook her head at me and said she would wait a few more years for a truly exceptional match for you. ‘When she is twenty, there will be time for the Fortins of this world,’ she told me.”

“Dear lord…” Elena sighed. “How blind I have been. I should have asked more questions; I should have insisted on knowing the facts of our situation.”

“Do not blame yourself, Miss Bellwood. When your mother had a notion, one could not dissuade her.”

Elena stood up, and the solicitor would have risen also, but she stopped him. “Pray remain seated, Mr. Coakley. I must walk about a bit and try to absorb…all this.”

Elena walked to the fireplace and poked at the coals. She straightened the porcelain pieces on the mantel and brushed a bit of dust away with her handkerchief.

When she turned back to face Mr. Coakley, she found him opening his portfolio. “Mr. Coakley, what is to become of me?”

“Pray, sit down, my dear. I have one bit of good news for you, and this news will serve to answer your question.”

Elena’s heart beat faster. Had the duke approached the solicitor with offers for herself? She prayed it would be so. She crossed the room to the settee and sat down.

“Miss Bellwood,” the solicitor began, “what I have to tell you will surprise you a great deal…”

Elena felt a blush rising to her cheek. The duke!

Coakley continued, “My dear, I believe you are unaware…you have an aunt.”

Elena’s excitement died as quickly as it had arisen.

“An aunt? No, indeed, Mr. Coakley. She died five years ago; surely my mother must have told you.”

“I am not referring to your father’s sister, my dear. I am speaking of Rosalie Murdoch, your mother’s sister.”

Elena stared at him. “My mother’s sister…my mother has no sisters.”

“Indeed, Miss Bellwood, she does. She did not want you to know about Rosalie—some sort of disagreement took place between them—and your mother felt it best to keep you away from her sister. But Miss Rosalie Murdoch is your aunt, and you must now go to her and claim the relationship. I have already written to her.”

Elena could not speak. A constriction about her throat made her feel like a poor fish gasping in a boat. An aunt she had never known! It was preposterous! And now she was to throw herself on this woman’s mercy? Good God!

Coakley waited until she had calmed herself. He pulled forth a bundle of papers and laid them before her.

“This is your mother’s last will, my dear. It states that, in the event of her death occurring before you were wed, you should be sent to Miss Rosalie Murdoch in Mystic, Connecticut.”

“Mystic? My mother’s place of birth? She said it was a wild, undeveloped place with wolves and Indians and—”

“Miss Bellwood, do not give way to such ideas! It is very pretty country and only one hundred miles from New York. In a few years, the steam train will—”

“No! Mr. Coakley, I must stay in New York! I must have more time!”

“Miss Bellwood, calm yourself. You have only two weeks to vacate these premises and turn over all valuables to your mother’s creditors. Removing to your aunt’s residence is quite your only option.”

“Two weeks?”

“Indeed, and I had to bargain to achieve that much. You have no time to lose. You must quickly remove your personal property from the premises so your own jewelry and clothing will be safe. You must write letters for the older servants and assist the young one, Willa. You must make travel arrangements. At this time of year, you would do best to travel by water rather than overland.”

“Travel by water! Where will I find funds to pay for a sea voyage?”

“Some time ago, I persuaded your mother to set up a small account in your name. However, it is in my name also, and I have power to approve or disapprove its usage. You must go to your aunt, and I will not allow you to use the money for any other purpose.”

“That is not fair, Mr. Coakley!” Elena cried. “The money is mine!”

“My dear, it gives me great pain to distress you, but if I allow you to use the fund to remain in New York, you will be destitute in a week. You will have nothing, absolutely nothing. You have led a sheltered life and are perhaps not aware of the fate that can befall women of your class when they have no one to provide for them.”

“But…but I believe I do have someone,” Elena stammered, trying to blink away her tears. “The day my mother died, we were expecting a call from the Duke of Simsbury. My mother believed he was about to make an offer for my hand.”

“Yes, I have heard of his attentions to you. Again, my dear, you must trust me. After you have departed, I will send out notice to your friends and acquaintances of your new residence—you must give me a list. The duke, if his intentions are serious, will visit you there, and matters can be brought to a close.”

“Yes, what you say has a great deal of sense, Mr. Coakley. But…Mystic. So far away from everyone I know…”

“Your friend Miss Carville can visit you there.”

Elena sighed. “Perhaps. But the humiliation of living in the wilds of Connecticut and receiving a charitable visit from Mrs. Wendell Prudie…I do not believe I am equal to it!”