The Captain's Daughter
Page 33
“How did my father end up as one of his captains?”
“Your father went to sea, and when he worked up to first mate, my brother, Sir Hugh, had become reconciled to us and he hired your father. Eventually, when Ishmael turned out to be such a wastrel and scoundrel, he decided to make your father his heir. Sir Hugh had come to love the son of his little sister.”
“And that is why he wanted to make my father the heir to all his possessions, and that is why Ishmael had my father murdered.”
“Not heir to all his possessions,” said the old lady. “Heir to the shipping business. My brother made a great deal of money with his ships, and the other matters of trade he was involved in, such as the cotton trade. When his son turned out bad, he decided to change his will, and you can believe Ishmael knew all about it. Hoping that Ishmael’s child would be better than its father, he chose to leave the bulk of all he owned to his grandchild. So he put most of his holdings in a trust that would go to his grandchild on the child’s twenty-first birthday, and thus bypass Ishmael altogether.”
“But where do I come in?” Amy questioned her grandmother.
“My brother was a practical and realistic man. He knew that things do not always work out as intended. He realized that Ishmael might not become a father. Perhaps he had reason to fear such an outcome. At any rate, the trust also stipulated that if he had no grandchild then his sister’s grandchild would become the heir. Only in the event that neither he nor his sister had grandchildren would the estate pass back to Ishmael, but he would have to wait until his sixtieth birthday.”
“So as long as he thought I was no longer alive, Ishmael was the sole heir.”
“Yes,” said her grandmother. “I understand that he wanted to speed up receiving his inheritance by appealing to the Court of Chancery, since they could override the trust, but everyone knows how slow they are because of massive backlogs, although that was not Ishmael’s main problem. The Court of Chancery charges exorbitant fees. Ishmael was struggling to accumulate enough money through his nefarious activities, and then he learned that you were alive. Now you stood in his way. He had two choices. One was to somehow compel you to renounce the estate, likely by in some way forcing you to say you were not Captain Buchanan’s child...”
“Or to kill me,” interupted Amy.
“Or to kill you,” repeated her grandmother. “Accomplishing what he tried and failed twenty years ago. He had no time to wait. You are about to turn twenty-one, and on that day he would be entirely cut out as heir. He had to have you removed before that day dawned.”
At dusk, their boat turned and began to drift down the River Thames, no longer requiring the earnest efforts of the watermen, as the boat only needed a little guidance and encouragement.
Ben and Amy had been strolling around the boat deep in conversation. Mattie and Leo were sitting on a bench near the rear of the boat, where they had been for hours, the musicians were now silent, and the older folks still sat around the table in hushed conversation, mostly talking of the old days.
Finally, Ben and Amy joined them. Unexpectedly, Sir Frank took them by surprise with a question that might have been fueled by the good Spanish sherry he had been imbibing, because he was usually a discreet and discerning man.
“Well, Sir Benjamin and Lady Amy, have you two given any thought to the prospects of wedded bliss?”
“We were just discussing that as the sun went down, Sir Frank.”
“Well?”
“Amy and I have decided to merge our persons and our fortunes into one. I had to think about it some, since she is now richer than I am, or will be within a month, but finally I decided that marrying an heiress is not really a bad idea.”
“How do your mother and father feel about it?”
Sir Frank looked at Sir Anthony and Lady Sibbridge. Lady Sibbridge had a pleased smile, but what more surprised Sir Frank was the large grin on the face of Amy’s father.
“What date have you set for—how did you put it—the merger?”
“Our marriage?” said Amy. “We haven’t yet determined that. Ben has some matters to complete which might take him out of the country for a short time, and when these are taken care of, you will be the first to know.”
“That seems fair enough,” said Sir Frank, and the conversation of the elders, about such matters as only old folks are interested in, resumed.
Ben took Amy’s hand and strolled to a part of the boat where they would be unseen by any other save one dozing waterman. Ben looked at her and their eyes met as one. She turned to look at the river.
“What are you thinking right now?” he whispered in her ear.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said.
“Go ahead tell me.”
She looked at him and grinned.
“I was wondering, do you think I should become a sea captain? After all, I am the captain’s daughter.”
He folded her in his arms and they kissed long and passionately. That night, the night of Saturday, the fifth day of October in the year of our Lord 1793, was also the night of the new moon, so no silver orb looked upon them from the heavens. But they had no need of the moon, or the stars, or even the sun itself, because none could outshine the light they saw in each other’s eyes.
Andre Chenier
Andre Chenier was a French poet and writer who found himself deeply at odds with the Reign of Terror. He was guillotined for alleged crimes against the state, on July 25, 1794, at the age of 31. He had remained successfully in hiding until he was captured by chance when the authorities were searching for someone else. Ironically and sadly, the Reign of Terror is considered to have ended just three days later, on July 28, 1794, when its leaders and chief agents were suddenly driven from power and themselves executed. Andre Chenier has been the subject of an opera and literary works and is much admired. Whether or not Pierre Marie Chevalier was indeed Andre Chenier, we do not know. It is however, plausible. During much of 1793 when the events of our story take place he was in hiding. He could have been anywhere, during that period. Andre Chenier did not like England, but as the old saying goes, any port in a storm.
About the Author~~
Minnie Simpson is a pseudonym, a pen name. Minnie Simpson was the name of the writer’s grandmother, whom the writer wished to honor by naming her the author of The Captain’s Daughter. She was a remarkable lady. Born long ago in Dunfermline, she remembered when she was in school, Andy Carnegie visited her classroom. At one time he was the richest man in the world. Also, she loved to tell the story of how, when the author’s grandfather was courting her, he rode his horse into one of the finest restaurants in Glasgow, because she was inside. It much impressed her, and some other people were very likely impressed as well. During the war in South Africa, he served with the Queen’s Own 3rd Glasgow Yeomanry. While on scout patrol, his horse fell into a trap dug by the enemy and he was injured. On his return home, he was honored by being made an Appointed Burgess of the City of Glasgow. In 1914, he died as a result of his war injury. Now a widow, Minnie worked on passenger ships during the 1920s. On one occasion she struggled to try and save the life of a desperately ill young woman because the ship’s doctor was too drunk to help. About that time she met Sam, her second husband. He was the perfect husband for Minnie. Sam had been torpedoed during the First World War while serving as a radio operator. Minnie lived to a good age and left this world a better place.
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