Into the Wilderness (27 page)

"Come,
Elizabeth," Galileo said briskly, taking her arm and trying to turn her
away.

"But
that man—" She pulled herself clear and looked more closely. Nothing had
changed at all: people continued to make their way, ignoring the spectacle of a
man lying in the road. The door he had come through was now shut. With an
audible groan, the man raised his head from the snow and muck. He rose
unsteadily to his feet and lurched off. His dark tangled hair covered most of
his face, but not enough to disguise the copper gleam of his skin, the sharp
bones, the sunken expression.

"Been
drinkin', hard," said Galileo beside her. "Nothing you can do for
him."

Reluctantly,
Elizabeth turned away. Then she stopped and considered. "Who could?"
she asked. "Who could do something for him?"

Galileo
shrugged, his own dark face suddenly closed and protective. "God
knows," he said.

* * *

Elizabeth's
first urge was to go and tell Mr. Bennett about the Indian, but she knew she
must be careful to restrict herself to topics which would not arouse his
suspicion. It would not do to complicate the situation, she told herself
standing on the doorstep of his offices, trying to put the image of the man in
the road out of her mind.

"What's
the matter, Miz Elizabeth?" Galileo asked. He had insisted on walking her
to her destination, and now waited on the curb. "Why you coming to see the
magistrate?"

"There's
nothing the matter," she said, trying to affect a calmer demeanor. But I
am worried about that man," she admitted. "I know what you told
me," she said, before Galileo could list for her the reasons she should
put the incident out of her head. "And I expect that you're right. He
wouldn't welcome my interference in his affairs, either. I know that too
without being told. Here," she said, reaching into her purse. "Perhaps
he won't mind if it comes from you. Can you find him and make sure he has a
warm dinner, today at least?"

"He'll
drink it," Galileo said with a resigned look.

"Well,
then, buy some cooked meat and give him that," Elizabeth said.

Galileo
nodded. "All right," he said finally. "Can you find your way
back to the Bennetts'?"

But
Elizabeth had already turned away. She fluttered a hand behind her in farewell
to Galileo, composed her face, and entered the offices of John Bennett,
attorney at law and magistrate for the northern counties in the state of
New—York.

* * *

Mr.
Bennett appeared to greet Elizabeth as soon as the door closed behind her. His
clerk had relieved her of her coat and hat and she found herself with a cup of
tea in a comfortable chair in Mr. Bennett's main office less than five minutes
later.

"It's
not often we get such company," he explained over her protests. "We
must observe the amenities, or we may never see the like again."

When
Elizabeth had seen and admired the fittings in the office, and had described
for Mr. Bennett the morning's expedition to the shops and the hat his wife had
bought, there was a moment's silence.

"Mr.
Bennett," Elizabeth began. "Please do not think me disingenuous, but
I do have a question of the law for you. I hope you will forgive me for not
being more open with you earlier today, but it is quite a sensitive
matter."

There
was a slight flicker of interest in the pallid blue eyes, and then Mr.
Bennett's face settled into a studied composure. He folded his hands on his
desk in front of him. "I did suspect as much," he said. "And of
course I am at your service."

Elizabeth
glanced out the window into the road where the citizens of Johnstown moved
about on their business. It could be a town almost anywhere, she thought.
Midwinter snow trod into a gray muck, icy cobblestones, and spring so far off.
With a shake of her head she focused her attention on the man before her.

"My
father," began Elizabeth, "has expressed an intention to execute a
deed of gift in my favor."

"Ah,
yes," Mr. Bennett said. "I am familiar with the document. I reviewed
it for him."

"Then
perhaps I need not explain—" Elizabeth's eyes scanned Mr. Bennett's face.
"I hope you will forgive my bluntness when I say that as I know no other
person of the law to approach on this matter, I find myself compelled to trust
you.

"Ha!"
Mr. Bennett's laugh caught Elizabeth off guard, and she found herself smiling
in return.

"You
are an unusual young lady, if I may be so bold," he said, drawing a
handkerchief from the cuff of his linen shirt and touching it to his mouth.
"But I take your point. Please be assured of my discretion. You may ask
what you like, and if it is within my power, I will answer."

Elizabeth
stood up suddely and walked to the bookcases which lined the wall. She ran a
finger over the titles there.

"My
father wishes me to marry."

"Dr.
Todd," said Mr. Bennett.

Elizabeth's
shoulders tensed, but she did not turn. "You are better informed than I
would have guessed."

"I
am sorry if I've offended you," Mr. Bennett said quietly.

There
was something in his manner which caused Elizabeth to trust him. She was not
sure exactly if it was his willingness to be amused, or his honesty.

"You
haven't offended me. I'm not even greatly surprised, I must confess. Everyone
seems to know more about this business than I do."

"This
is a small society, after all," said Mr. Bennett. "We take as much
interest in each other as any set of families in England."

"Yes,
I am coming to see that," Elizabeth said. "Perhaps you will
understand my meaning, then, when I say that I fear Dr. Todd's interest in me
has more to do with the deed of gift than it does with myself."

There
was a knock at the door, and the clerk came in with a bow to Elizabeth to put a
note on the table in front of Mr. Bennett. Elizabeth was quite glad to have
this interruption, for it gave her an opportunity to gather her thoughts.

"Let
me ask you, Mr. Bennett. Is there any way to secure a woman's property for
herself once she is married? To keep her property for her own use, and
independent of her husband?"

"No,"
Mr. Bennett said, with his head inclined. "Not really. There is the
possibility of trusteeship, in which your property would be vested in a man
other than your husband—but even that would not stand up in every court. There
was a large volume on the table and he put one hand on it now. "Blackstone
is quite clear on that matter."

Elizabeth
nodded. "That is as I feared." She began to pace the room, her skirts
swirling as she turned and then turned again.

"Very
well, then," she said, stopping in front of the table. "Once the deed
of gift is signed, the property is mine until I marry. Is that correct? Then it
transfers to my husband?"

"That
is correct."

"Could
my father . . . change his mind? Ask the court to return the property to
him?"

"Not
unless there has been deception of some kind," said Mr. Bennett.

"Could
you be more specific?"

Mr.
Bennett settled back into his chair, and with his fingers tented under his
chin, he summarized for Elizabeth the conditions under which a father might
petition for the nullification of a deed of gift. "But," he
concluded, "I have never heard of such a petition actually coming before
the court in this part of the country. It would certainly be a scandal of the
highest order."

"Between
the time the deed is signed, and I marry, can I dispose of the property as I
please?"

"Only
with court approval," said Mr. Bennett. He picked up a small paperweight
from his table and rolled it between his palms thoughtfully.

With
her back to him as she looked out into the road, Elizabeth said: "I did
not have the opportunity to read the deed closely. Is there any stipulation as
to the identity of my husband?"

There
was a small pause.

"There
is no mention of marriage at all in the deed," Mr. Bennett said finally.
"Any promises you make to your father—or to anyone else—are different
contractual arrangements altogether, and have nothing to do with the deed. As
long as it is signed and witnessed in my presence, it is valid. No matter whom
you marry."

Elizabeth
turned to find Mr. Bennett watching her very closely. "You are very
perceptive," she said with a small smile.

"You
mustn't give me credit for too much," Mr. Bennett said.

"It
is only that I am more familiar with Richard Todd's childhood than you might
be. You haven't heard about his youth?"

Elizabeth
wondered if she should allow Mr. Bennett to tell her this story.

"You
have scruples, I see, about hearing this history. But I think you should hear
it, as it may have a material effect on your own actions."

Mr.
Bennett waited. When Elizabeth finally nodded, he sat forward in his chair with
his hands flat on the table in front of him.

"The
Mohawk kidnapped Richard along with his mother and brother during the border
wars. He was about three at the time. The march north took them over Hidden
Wolf."

The
sunlight lay in great flat sheets across the table and illuminated Mr.
Bennett's hands, the long fingers stained with ink, the pale nails glowing
pink. Elizabeth found it hard to take her eyes off his hands.

"His
mother was with child, she couldn't keep up the march. She died on the
mountain. Richard was taken north to Canada. His uncle, Amos Foster, bought him
out of captivity when he was eleven."

"I
see," Elizabeth said hoarsely.

"So
you understand his connection to Hidden Wolf is quite—personal in nature. He
has been trying to buy it from the judge for years. I expect he will go to some
lengths to secure his interests. He is tenacious, to say the least."

Mr.
Bennett stood up with a little bow. "It is time we started home for
dinner," he said briskly. "If I have answered all your
questions?"

"Yes,"
Elizabeth said with an absent smile. "Thank you so much for your
help."

"I'll
get your things," he said, starting toward the door.

"Mr.
Bennett?" Elizabeth asked, so that he paused with his hand on the knob.
"What happened to Richard's brother?"

"The
uncle tried to ransom him, but he wouldn't leave. He stayed with the Mohawk and
became a warrior.

"Is
he still in Canada?" asked Elizabeth. "No," Mr. Bennett said
grimly. "He died in battle. Fighting for the English."

* * *

Elizabeth
had been hoping for a quiet supper at the Bennetts', but she got both more and
less than she expected. Just after dinner, a servant arrived from the
Dubonnets' with an invitation to an evening party in honor of the visiting governor
and his wife. Mrs. Bennett and Katherine were so very excited about this
invitation that Elizabeth's own calmer reaction went unnoticed, until she asked
Mrs. Bennett to decline her share of the privilege.

"I
am very tired," Elizabeth excused herself. "I hope Mr. and Mrs.
Dubonnet will understand."

"Lizzie
doesn't care for such affairs," Julian pointed out needlessly. "She
probably picked up some new book this afternoon and can't wait to get to
it."

Mr.
Bennett sighed. "A new book in front of the hearth sounds to me a much
finer evening than listening to Ellen Clinton play the piano."

"Hush,
John." Mrs. Bennett swatted at her husband impatiently, but grinned
nonetheless. "What a thing to say." She turned her gaze to Elizabeth.
"If it is a book, Elizabeth, won't it wait? You may never have another
opportunity to meet Mrs. Clinton."

When
Elizabeth had assured Mrs. Bennett that she preferred to stay home, Katherine
spoke up. "It's our last evening," she said.

"But
if you really don't want to go out—"

"You
are most welcome to borrow my cape," Elizabeth said with a smile.

* * *

She
was served a late supper of soup and cold meat, which suited her perfectly;
Elizabeth did have a new book—two, in fact—and many things to think about, but
as she was finishing her meal the maid came to announce a visitor.

"Did
you tell them that the Bennetts are out this evening?"

Elizabeth
asked, trying hard to hide her irritation with this delay of her plans.

"Yes,
Miss, but the gentleman is asking for you."

"I
see." Elizabeth touched a hand to her hair, began to rise, and then sat
again abruptly, fighting with a sudden and quite explicable case of the
jitters. Who could this possibly be but Nathaniel?

The
maid was watching her closely. "Shall I just send him away, miss?"

"Oh,
well. No, I think I shall just speak with him briefly—"

"You
don't even know who it is, miss," the maid pointed out.

Startled,
Elizabeth looked up. "Did you get a name?"