Miss Lucy Netherwood, châtelaine

Lucy folded her hands tightly together, awaiting the solicitor's reading of the final provisions. Edmund and Clarissa sat tight-lipped, flanking the head of the table.

Augustus Henshawe cleared his throat and continued reading. "I, Jeremy Netherwood, do recognize and affirm Lucy Longbottom, daughter of Margaret Longbottom, as first fruit of my loins, eldest and senior of my issue. I affirm her right to use Netherwood as her family name if she will, and have directed to have papers prepared to that end. Indeed, I enjoin her to do so, for her patrimony shall follow the name."

Lucy's head swam.

"Though naught can truly repay the heavy debt of honor owed to a name and station laid at breach," the mustachioed solicitor continued reading, "it would be inexcusable in the eyes of Heaven to let the matter lie. Therefore, providing she take the name Netherwood, do I settle upon her the life tenure and income of the pearl among my estates, the smallest, and yet the jewel."

Jeremy was a proud old b... old cove, Lucy thought. But why could he never tell me to my face? Was it to spare Lady Catherine?

Augustus Henshawe paused to clear his throat again.

Clarissa looked up, the cast of her green eyes betraying a hint of horror. Edmund glared into his lap.

The solicitor continued, "Lucy, if she shall take on the mantle of her father's name, shall be mistress for life of..."