Impetuous. Candace Camp
Читать онлайн книгу.
politely dusted off the bench with his handkerchief, and they sat down. They looked at each other assessingly. Finally Cassandra began. “I am searching for the Spanish dowry.”
Neville gazed back at her blankly. “The what?”
Cassandra frowned. “Surely you have heard of it. It was what started the whole bitterness between our families.”
Late in the seventeenth century, the Nevilles and Verreres had decided to ally their families by marriage. Sir Edric Neville was contracted to marry the daughter of Richard Verrere, Lord Chesilworth. The girl’s name was Margaret, and she, rather than marrying Sir Edric, had stolen out of the Neville estate on the eve of her wedding and run off with the man she truly loved. It had been a scandal of immense proportions, heightened by the fact that the substantial dowry which she had brought to the Nevilles was missing, as well. The incident had set the two families at odds for the next two hundred years.
“You mean Black Maggie’s dowry?” Philip exclaimed.
She gave him a disapproving look. “If you mean Margaret Verrere, then, yes, it is her dowry I am speaking of. A collection of Spanish treasure seized by Colin Verrere in the late sixteenth century.”
Philip snorted. “Stolen, you mean. Colin Verrere was an out-and-out pirate.”
“He sailed with letters of marque from Queen Elizabeth herself,” Cassandra retorted hotly. “He was a patriot, as well as an excellent sailor and fighter.”
“Legalized piracy. I suspect that the Spanish sailors he killed had some difficulty telling the difference.”
“It was a war,” Cassandra reminded him coldly. “Spain was our enemy, and any damage done to her economy was a blow for England and the queen.”
“Yes, and was it not convenient that Lord Chesilworth’s own pockets were so well-lined by his ‘patriotism’?”
Cassandra regarded him with irritation. “I fail to understand why an Englishman should have so much sympathy for a country that tried to invade his own.”
Neville shrugged. “I have no particular love for Spain, Miss Verrere. However, I do believe in telling the truth, rather than masking ordinary, everyday greed with a patina of ‘God, queen, and country.’”
She looked at him for a long moment. “Frankly, Sir Philip, I think it is more that you simply enjoy being difficult.”
Her words startled a chuckle from him. “Perhaps you are right.” He paused, then added, “It doesn’t matter, anyway. There is no dowry. It is only a legend.”
“A legend! Of course it’s not a legend. The Spanish dowry was real. Why else would your Neville ancestor have pursued the matter so assiduously in and out of court? Why did he keep insisting that the dowry by rights belonged to him, if there was not really a dowry?”
“Oh, I grant you that Chesilworth had some jewels and things that his grandfather took from Spanish ships, but the size and value of it has been greatly increased by the years and distance from the actual thing. Who is to say that the dowry was that valuable, and who is to say that Chesilworth even really sent the dowry with his daughter? It could have been an elaborate ruse to defraud Sir Edric.”
“Oh, poppycock!” Cassandra said bluntly, color flaring in her cheeks. “I have read the list recorded in the Verrere estate books when they loaded the trunk into Margaret’s baggage train. Unset emeralds and rubies from South America, gold coins, gold jewelry, emerald earrings—and, the pièce de résistance, the most beautiful and precious piece of treasure—a ‘solid gold leopard of cunning workmanship with eyes of emeralds and a collar of rubies.’”
Cassandra’s eyes glistened as she thought of the stunning beauty of the statue. “It was a work of art, as well as being of great monetary value. It was the crown jewel of Colin Verrere’s Spanish collection.”
“If the treasure was actually loaded into the baggage train and sent to Haverly House with Margaret Verrere,” Sir Philip said firmly, “then Black Maggie took the dowry with her when she ran away. Sir Edric obviously did not have it, or he would not have pursued Chesilworth so about it, and Chesilworth claimed that he did not have it. So either Chesilworth was lying, and she left it with him all along, or Black Maggie took it with her to help set up herself and her lover in the colonies.”
“Would you stop calling her that? Margaret Verrere was not a thief, and she did not take the Spanish treasure with her. She left it behind at the Neville estate when she eloped.”
Sir Philip gave her an odd look. “You speak as if you knew the woman. She has been dead for at least a hundred and fifty years.”
“One hundred and fifty-five, to be exact,” Cassandra corrected him. “But I do feel as if I know her. You see, I have been reading her diaries.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. Sir Philip stared at her.
“This tale grows more fantastic by the moment,” he said at last. “Miss Verrere, if that really is your name, I am beginning to get the feeling that someone has set me up for an elaborate jest.”
“Really, Sir Philip.” Cassandra looked at him with aggravation, the same look she bent on her brothers when they had been misbehaving and which generally had the effect of making them suddenly stand straighter. Unfortunately, it seemed to have little effect on Philip Neville. “You are the most suspicious human being I have ever had the misfortune to meet. First you don’t believe that a dowry, which is recorded in ledgers and which one of your own ancestors pursued with great diligence all his life, ever really existed. Then you don’t believe that it was actually delivered to the Neville estate. Now you are saying that you do not believe that I am who I say I am. I don’t understand. Are you this suspicious by nature, or have you met so many liars and cheats that you are a sadly disillusioned man?”
Neville grimaced. “I am suspicious of your story, my dear lady, because it is a highly unbelievable tale. As for the so-called Spanish dowry, I am simply saying that it happened so long ago, and so many stories have been spread about it, that we really have no way of telling what is the truth.”
“But we do. That is what I am trying to tell you, if you would only pay attention. I am in possession of Margaret Verrere’s diaries.”
“How did you come to acquire these diaries?” Neville settled his hands, crossed in his lap, the expression on his face that of one who is preparing to hear a long and entertaining story.
“From Mr. Simons. Perryman Simons—he is a book dealer in London. He sold the diaries to my father. Probably you were not aware of it, but my father, the late Lord Chesilworth, was intensely interested in the stories of the Spanish dowry all his life.”
“I had heard it was a...a continuing passion with him.”
“From the studiously impassive expression on your face, I assume that you heard he was obsessed on the subject. Cracked, I believe is the common vernacular.” She shrugged. “Pray do not bother to spare my feelings. I am not a woman of high sensibility. Besides, I have heard it all before, and probably worse. But whatever people might have said about my father, he was an intelligent man, a scholar. He based his reasonings on sound facts, not wishful thinking. Of course, he also had access to the family records and the stories that had been handed down from generation to generation. He knew that Margaret Verrere was not the sort of woman to take the dowry with her. The Verreres have always prided themselves on their honor, you see.”
“A thing that Margaret seems to have forgotten when she broke her marriage contract and left Sir Edric standing at the altar.”
“She was in love with another!” Cassandra flared. “She had every right to marry the man she loved instead of being forced into a loveless marriage simply for the sake of family alliances. Sir Edric may have been wealthy and powerful, but everyone knows how the Nevilles acquired their money and influence—they have a history of ruthless, insensitive, predatory behavior, and doubtless Sir Edric was like all the rest of them.”
“Yes,