Rebel Heiress Read Free

she died, Aunt Abigail gave me all the money she had. It was not much, and I fear it was but grudgingly given, but you know how she hated lawyers. She said it would save her the trouble of willing it to me. Of course, I did not then know about the house … But at least it means that I have enough for my passage and a little to spare for my expenses in England. And after that, well, I can but hope for the best.’
    â€˜You have proofs of your birth?’
    â€˜Oh, yes, they were all there. Aunt Abigail may have been wicked, but she was a good woman of business. No, I shall have no difficulty in convincing my father who I am, If I can but get to him.’
    â€˜Then I will see Captain Gilbert on your behalf tomorrow. Fortunately for you, I know that though he is English he is no supporter of the iniquitous Orders in Council that have brought our two countries to the point of war. He will not hold your being an American against you.’
    â€˜But I am not an American. Had you forgot?’
    â€˜Indeed I had; you seem so much like one of us. Well, well, perhaps, after all, it is for the best.’
    â€˜Yes. It would hardly be fitting for a clergyman to marry a woman of the enemy, would it?’
    â€˜You are too quick for me, Miss Marchmont. I confess, though, that thought had passed through my head. But here we are’ — his relief was obvious — ‘at your poor aunt’s house. Rely on me to do your business for you tomorrow.’
    She thanked him and they went in to join the decorous party assembled over tea and cookies in Aunt Abigail’s dark little living room. All conversation ceased at sight of them, and Henrietta was only too well aware that they had been its subject. She sat down next to kind, busy Miss Jenkin and parried as best she might her persistent and well-meant enquiries about her plans. Gradually, however, as she sipped lukewarm tea, she became aware that Miss Jenkin was leading up to something. She had made various angling references to Mr. Anderson: ‘So fortunate for him to receive the house … but a responsibility for a single man … a minister really needs someone to take care of him,’ and so on, which Henrietta had answered as neutrally as she could. Now she changed her ground.
    â€˜I hope you will not mind it, my dear,’ she said, helping herself to another cookie, ‘but dear Miss Cabot and I were speaking of you just now and wondering what the future holds for you. And — if some more eligible prospect should not open up before you’ — here she paused archly for a moment, then continued — ‘if, as I say, no more attractive alternative has presented itself, dear Miss Cabot was wondering if you would care to go and live with her for a while. She has that big house, you know, and neither chick nor child to call her own. You could do very much worse, my dear, left as you are. We will say nothing against dear Miss Abigail, but the fact remains that things have not come out just as we expected, have they my dear?’
    â€˜Have they not?’ asked Henrietta. ‘I do not know exactly what anyone did expect. But you are right; let us not talk about Aunt Abigail. And, dear Miss Jenkin, just for tonight, may we not talk about me either? I am deeply grateful to Miss Cabot — please tell her so. But I can decide nothing today.’
    â€˜My child, of course you cannot; so crushed with grief as you must be. We only wanted you to know that you had friends, however forlorn you may feel.’ She pressed Henrietta’shand and Henrietta returned the pressure in the spirit in which it was meant. No need to admit that her only feeling at Aunt Abigail’s death was one of heartfelt relief, her only anguish now her doubt whether Captain Gilbert could be persuaded to take her to England.
    The party seemed to her to go on forever, but at last they had all gone and she could remember the encouraging pressure of the