Bianca is the primary beneficiary

Dear Diary, (May 20th, afternoon)

My hands are shaking as I try to get the momentous events of the morning into this journal. The outcome of my father's wishes is so shocking that I doubt I will ever forget this day, but to be sure I am taking the time to record them now with as much fidelity as possible before time and events cloud my memory.

Mr. Naylor invited us all into my father's library a little before eleven. A polished desk was clear except for a large envelope, a gold embossed book, a small black velvet bag and a large ledger. The rest of the library was arranged with six chairs facing the desk. I was a little surprised to see Sean Kyleson waiting near the windows and even more so to see the house ****, Angelica, standing nervously in the back of the room.

Once all of us were seated, Mr. Naylor explained that even he did not know the contents of Mr. Heyward's Last Will and Testament but had been left detailed instructions for the reading by the deceased.

With a deliberate slowness, Mr. Naylor broke the seal on the large envelope, removed a folded parchment and proceeded to read the document.

“I, Timothy Emanuel Heyward, being of sound mind and body, on this twenty-third day of February in the year of our Lord 1832, hereby proclaim that this is my Last Will and Testament and should supersede any previous document.”

The first three paragraphs were pretty mundane: in recognition of his years of service, Mr. Naylor himself was bequeathed the silver pocket watch in the velvet bag, a grant of $1,000 dollars was allotted to the College of Charleston, and Mr. Thornton was recognized with the signed copy of the book of Jefferson's letters with a kindly note from Mr. Heyward that encouraged the young gentleman to engage in politics, as the state of South Carolina needed representatives like him in Washington. With the preliminaries taken care of, Mr. Naylor continued with the reading. I copied over my father's exact words below:

“Sean Kyleson, is to be commended for his invaluable expertise in the running of Havenhall and in recognition of this service, the south cottage and the one-acre plot upon which it sits, is to be henceforth his property to do with as he pleases. Although not a provision of this inheritance, I would encourage the next owner of this plantation to retain the man, for no one knows more about the operation of Havenhall than said Mr. Kyleson.”

“On a similar note, I would like to recognize the negro ****, Angelica, who has brought much comfort to an old man as he approaches his last days.” All eyes at this point turned to the back of the room to assess the ****, I'm sure that I am not the only one who speculated about in what ways this pretty **** 'brought much comfort' to my father. Miss Manton in particular let out an audible snort and I saw her brother unconsciously lick his lips as his eyes ran over the ****'s pretty figure. Mr. Naylor paused momentarily, clearing his throat to recapture our attention before finishing the paragraph. “Let it be known that it is my wish that this ****, Angelica, be neither sold nor sent to work in the fields, but that a place be made for her here in Havenhall manor, even when she ages.”

Short of the manumission that I suspect Angelica was hoping for, it was a kind thing to do. While not freed, Angelica would at least be spared the hardship of back-breaking field labor. On the other hand, I remember thinking at the time as I noted the way Mr. Manton was looking at her, I wonder privately if she might not be happier in the **** quarters than the recipient of her new master's attentions. As it turns out, that is a moot point.

When Mr. Naylor started reading again, it was clear that the meat of the will was finally being addressed; the Manton siblings leaned forward in their chairs, as impatient as young children at the end of a school day. I'm afraid to report that neither of my cousins were satisfied with what they heard next. Priscilla Manton was bequeathed a grey palfrey from the stables that she had favored, and Miles Manton the flat bottom steamer 'Adventure' currently docked at a marina in North Charleston, but that was the extent of their inheritance. The mood in the room shifter from anticipatory to something more tense with equal parts confusion, curiosity and anger. Even I was caught up in the moment; we listened spell bound as the reading continued.

“The bulk of my estate, consisting of 320 acres of farmland, grazing pasture and woodlot, all the buildings and structures upon this land, all the cattle, equines and breeding sows in the barn and the forty-two negro slaves detailed in the plantation ledger, I bequeath to my daughter, Miss Bianca DiFlorentini of Philadelphia.”

I am afraid, that upon hearing these words I collapsed from my chair most inelegantly. It was hardly the first impression that I would have planned, but frankly I was as surprised as any other in the room.

As to what happened next, I can only relate what was told to me when I was awoken in the empty library by none other than Mr. Thornton with a damp towel in his hand and a most distressed look upon his face.

As might be expected, Mr. Thornton told me, even as I had slipped to the floor in shock, the Manton siblings had leapt to their feet in protest. They demanded to see the will and accused Mr. Naylor of collaborating with me in an attempt to defraud the rightful heirs. According to Mr. Thornton, it was Mr. Kyleson who firmly pushed the pair back to their seats so the reading of the will could be completed.

It seems my father anticipated this reaction and had been meticulous in his preparations; included with the actual Last Will and Testament had been all the documentation needed to defend his claim that I was indeed his legal heir, each item properly witnessed, notarized and validated by upstanding members of the community.