Page 30 of The Colonist’s Petition (Heirs & Heroes #2)

Even if this grand scheme did not work out, perhaps Johnathan’s presence would be enough to help the earl live as long as his grandfather.

Longevity was common in some families, was it not?

The thought was enough to give Johnathan his appetite back, and he shoveled the remaining food into his mouth.

All too soon, Johnathan found himself in the earl’s carriage, rumbling through wet cobblestone streets.

The rain maintained the low drizzle that reminded him of Georgiana’s letters.

The carriage stopped, and they were led to a small office that, while perfectly clean, maintained an air of dustiness.

Perhaps the drab browns and greys, and the multitude of books along the far wall, contributed to such a feeling.

“Your Lordship,” a balding man greeted the earl and bowed slightly. “Now, this is your grandnephew, is it?”

“Not precisely,” said the earl, “but close enough.”

“Well, do come in. I have much to show you.”

“Are there any problems?” asked the earl.

Instead of answering the question, the solicitor gestured towards the chair. “Would you like tea? I can send my man out for cakes, if you wish.”

The earl leaned forward, inspecting the papers on the table. “No, we’ve just finished eating a large breakfast. What have you found?”

“What you are attempting is highly unusual, even under the best of circumstances. I have reviewed all the papers you sent me and suggest that we send a man to Boston immediately to verify if this Mr. Whittaker is indeed Lord Nathanial Ryeland. It would be most embarrassing to find that this young man was an imposter.”

Johnathan’s back stiffened. He was not an imposter. This was not his idea. And why would his grandfather tell such a story if it was not true?

The earl must have thought the same thing as he cleared his throat. “Johnathan Whittaker is no more an imposter than I am. In fact, he has only agreed to this action under some duress. It was not his plan at all, but mine.”

“And you are sure the man you have been writing to in the colonies is indeed the original heir?”

“You have the papers before you, man. Can you not see that? We have been in correspondence for some time.”

“Still,” insisted the solicitor, “we should send somebody to verify his identity. These papers could be forged.”

“You know they are not!” The earl stood and thumped his cane.

The solicitor held up his hands. “What I know, and what questions you will be asked when you defend this petition in Parliament are entirely different. We must cover and anticipate every question. It would help greatly if there were something other than papers. A seal, a signet... Anything.”

The earl retook his seat. “I have the portrait, found in the attic. It has been verified to be my father’s cousin.”

“So you have said. But a portrait that shows some resemblance between the two men is hardly proof.” The solicitor turned to Johnathan. “When your grandfather ran off to the colonies, did he take anything that would prove who he was?”

How was Johnathan supposed to know that?

No one in the family knew about Grandfather’s past. According to him he never even told all of his successive wives.

In fact the only person living who could verify hearing the story was a shoemaker who had once been a minister who lived in East Stoughton.

A vague memory of the minister leading their congregation when he was ten or so was not enough to help.

“My Grandfather has a set of miniatures, including one that he said was his mother. That is how I recognized my great-grandmother’s portrait so quickly in the portrait gallery. ”

“Did he have anything of his father’s? A signet ring perhaps?”

Only the miniatures in the drawer. Johnathan could not recall his grandfather wearing a ring.

“I have never seen such. Grandfather was not on good terms with his father when he left England. You have all that I have seen and the packet of letters I brought. That Grandfather was sent the death notice of his father and kept it should account for something, should it not?”

“Yes, yes, all that is much in our favor. Unfortunately, there are few men alive who would recognize your grandfather, being in his nineties. And you, your Lordship, were only what? Two years old when he left?”

“Something like that.”

“I suppose he fought on the side of the colonies during that unfortunate war?” There was a certain sneer with that comment that Johnathan was coming to recognize as not so much a personal vendetta but a national feeling.

The English did not like losing. The fact that this current war was destined to end in a draw did not sit well with either side.

“He took up arms in what we call the French and Indian War. He did not fight in the Revolution, although my father did, as well as my uncles.”

The solicitor thinned his lips. “I must know this before we go on. Are you willing to swear fidelity to our King and give up all your American ways?”

The last two words were said with such disdain that Johnathan wanted to answer “no.” He took a deep breath before answering. “If this petition is granted, I will swear fidelity to the King.”

“You are eager to be an Earl?” The solicitor raised an eyebrow.

“Not particularly. But I have become much invested in seeing that Felton Lightwood does not inherit the Earldom. It would not be good for his family, or for the tenants, or for those who rely on the Earldom.”

“I understand several of the granddaughters are unmarried. You realize you could take care of at least one of them with much less bother.”

“That would only be one, which would leave three. And with their sister already married to Viscount Endelton, I doubt they would want to return to the colonies with me.”

“Is that what you intend to do?”

What choice would he have? His knowledge of farming would not go far to support Georgiana here where he was unable to own his own land.

“I have no way of making a livelihood in England unless I am the earl. I can see no option but to return to Massachusetts. At least there, I have land and can provide for a wife.”

The earl cleared his throat. “A reserve plan that we shall not need. Now, what else must we do?”

“As I said, the first thing we must do is send a man to Boston. There is a ship leaving in three days. If he leaves on it and is quick about his work, he should be back before Easter.”

The earl steepled his fingers. “You should send two men.”

The solicitor looked up from the paper he perused. “Why?”

“Two witnesses. Also, if some ill were to befall one of them, the other would survive.”

Johnathan leaned forward. “You should send them on two different ships.”

“Why?” asked the earl.

“While there are ambassadors in the United Netherlands for peace talks, hoping to end America’s current disagreement with England—there are still raids and blockades. And they should not be sent from England at all. Send them from Amsterdam, the same way I came in.”

“That is a good idea,” said the solicitor. “I had not thought of it. I was hoping by the time they arrived, we would have peace.”

“I believe we all wish for that, do we not?” asked Johnathan.

“As you see, he has wisdom beyond his years,” said the earl. “As we have learned from past wars, it will take time for the news of the treaty to reach the Americas, and even more time to reach any privateers who might stop British ships.”

“Very good point. I shall send a man, ahem excuse me, two men, as soon as possible. I have engaged the services of Mr. Fawkes, a renowned genealogist and expert on the peerage. He has asked that you meet with him on Thursday.” The solicitor made a note in his agenda.

“Why a genealogist?” asked Johnathan.

“The current heir is Sir Lightwood, whose own claim to the earldom is, according the information given to me, is convoluted at best. While your lineage is straightforward, there is a possibility of a closer heir than Sir Lightwood. We do not need any surprise challenges to your petition.” The solicitor handed Johnathan a card with the genealogist’s address as he ushered them out of the office.