The Second Mrs Darcy by Elizabeth Aston Page A

call”—this to her daughter.
    â€œHe is a horrid man, I do not like him at all,” said Penelope.
    â€œWhat is this word, horrid ? Anyone would think you were living in the pages of those novels you read. And it is not for you to set up for liking or disliking anyone, let me tell you. You will be guided by your mama and papa as to whom you may like or dislike.”
    She turned to Octavia. “I think him very remiss not to— Well, I believe there is nothing to be got out of George Warren, he has the reputation of being very tight with his money.”
    Arthur called a few minutes after Warren’s departure, and wasshown into the room where the ladies were sitting. He pursed his lips and looked grave. “I have to tell you now, Octavia, that Theodosia is right. I took up the matter of an annuity for you with Warren, for your income is so very small, and in the light of what you might have expected, disappointing. However, he would have none of it, said the estate was encumbered, that the house and land are in a bad way, and will need a great deal spent on it to bring it into order, so that nothing can be spared for you. Nor does he feel any obligation to you.”
    â€œThere was no point in your asking him, then, was there?” said Octavia, wishing Arthur would keep his long nose out of her business. “And you had no right to talk to him without consulting me first. I didn’t want to ask George Warren for a single penny, thank you!”
    Octavia spoke more sharply than she had intended, but she was alarmed. Arthur’s interference now was as nothing compared to how he would behave when he knew about her inheritance; he would immediately do everything in his power to take control. He couldn’t, in the eyes of the law, but where family was concerned, law didn’t enter into it. Another dreadful thought occurred to Octavia. This Mr. Portal, so inconveniently travelling abroad, what if he were a crony of Arthur’s, an habitué of the same clubs? Men were all the same; they all had the idea fixed in their minds that a woman, particularly a young woman, and one who had hitherto always been at the bottom of the family pile, would of nature be incapable of looking after money, land, or in any way taking care of her own affairs.
    Mr. Portal and Arthur might very well be of one mind—although, how much power did an executor have? The lawyer had said executor, not trustee. Octavia tried to remember the lawyer’s exact words, for there was a world of difference, she felt sure, between the one and the other.
    â€œTell me, Arthur,” she said, cutting across his grumbles. “An executor is what, precisely?”
    â€œAn executor?” He stared at her. “There you are, fancying you can deal with things yourself, and as simple and basic a concept as that is beyond you. Who is the executor of Darcy’s will?”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. He’s a lawyer. I only want to know what the powers of an executor may be.”
    â€œGive me his name, and I will go and see him, as I already told you that I would.”
    â€œNo, Arthur, you will not.”
    â€œI know what an executor is,” said Penelope. “For a good friend of mine was left a legacy and the executor sorted it all out. But once it was done, he had no say in how he was to use the money, that was entirely up to him.”
    Arthur gave his niece a quelling look. “The word gives the meaning, Octavia. He executes, that is to say, carries out what is specified in a will. It will hardly be an onerous job in your case, with so very little— I dare say the lawyer’s fees will swallow up more of the very little you have, that is why you need me to see to it all for you, I will make very sure they don’t take a ha’pporth more in fees than is right.”
    â€œI wanted information, merely, Arthur, not assistance.”
    â€œIf you are going to be so headstrong, then