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Legal Endeavours; Att. Daigh Edmund, Jonathan Willett
Topic Started: Sep 10 2013, 01:55 PM (2,372 Views)
Marina Costa
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Governess, Kingston
Civilian Admin
[align=center] Date: 25-th of October 1719
Place: Kingston, Jamaica, all through the town center[/align]


Marina didn’t have too often the opportunity to go to town. She was mostly confined to the estate, especially that her mistress, the Duchess of Saint Albans, was a widow in mourning. Therefore, any trip to Kingston, which meant, always, a little time for herself too, was not only a time of joy, but also a time to enter the “Dancing Faerie” tavern and seek Anne, to ask if she had received any news from Andrea. This time, she had.

”The letter is waiting for you since two days ago,” Anne told her with her obvious French accent. ”I’ll bring you something to write your answer.”

Well, she had an answer to write – that they had fared rather well in the storm, with no big damages in the house, and that she was healthy.

Surely, she won’t write anything that she got told that it was normal pregnancy symptoms – dizziness, tiredness, swelling of ankles and feet and backaches. She had started showing already, as she was five months and a half far. These were hers to fight, as well as the mood swings.

But she was strong and determined to overcome everything, especially that she had already the joy to feel the child move. Probably he was preparing to fight the unknown enemies who had sent his father into slavery... She used to think that she was not the first pregnant woman in the world, and she would manage, with God’s help. Her mother, especially at the first pregnancy, had been alone in the middle of the sea with three men when giving birth, and no woman to advise her anything.

She opened her brother’s letter and she gasped in surprise. Well, not at the retained, almost cold, writing style. Andrea had never a livelier one, he was too shy to put his thoughts into writing, and also afraid that the message might fall into wrong hands. Which was, somehow, reasonable from his part. But it had news for her, and an older brother’s advice. She had to seek her mistress and ask for advice regarding the matters he had been writing.

This was nothing she had ever thought about, as ignorant as she was about human laws. Her nuns in Cork had taught her only God’s laws, and the Navy had taught her only to obey the superiors. She took a deep breath, took a swig from the mug of cider Anne had brought her as refreshment, then she started writing the answer.

Andrea was alive, back to Tortuga and thinking about her. This was everything that mattered now. Or, even more than about her, he had been thinking so much about the tragic fate or her fiance, that he wrote a ballad for him. She smiled at her brother's efforts to have it copied to her, in his own handwriting, even if English was not his strong point and she was sure that somebody else had written down the words during the creation process.
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Civilian
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NEIL DONOVAN, privateer carpenter [/align]

There hadn’t been time for a proper shore leave for some of the privateers. Yes, some had got it, while the ship was undergoing the latest and most skilled repairs, but not the carpenter. He was allegedly doing errands now… Well, not allegedly, he really was, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t stop for an ale at the “Dancing Faerie” on the way to the market.

He also remembered his promise to the pirate sailing master, that when in Kingston, he’d look for Sharky’s unlucky fiancee and go with her to the judge. He simply hadn’t got time to do it yet. He will, tomorrow or the next day, when he’ll finally get shore leave.

…Entering the tavern, his thoughts have been diverted by the unusual sight of a young woman writing, at a table. He decided to pass by her and stare curiously, but when doing it, he recognized exactly the one whom he had to inform that the ship was in port.

”Good afternoon! What a pleasant surprise!” he said on a warm tone. ”May I sit by your side? I promise not to spill your ink and not to move the table.”

It meant he was exempted of a long route to the estate.

[align=center] This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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Marina Costa
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Governess, Kingston
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Marina recognized the Irishman, and she didn't question his presence in an Irish tavern. Birds of a feather used to fly together, and after four years in Cork, she was partly in the same mindset, only that she was here exclusively for Anne.

"Take a seat. I am writing to my brother, who is a sailor. I'll finish quickly and I'll really want to talk to you. He had written me that when your ship comes to town, some of Sharky's friends are willing to help me in a legal matter. So glad to see you here now, and glad that the storm didn't have great impact on you. Has your other Irish friend fared well?"

She had stated before that her brother was a sailor; it didn;t mean pirate, he was safe.
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NEIL DONOVAN, privateer carpenter [/align]

He didn’t expect to hear the honest answer.

”I have met Angel, and I have promised to stand witness for you in front of the judge. So would Daigh and Jack. You were asking about Daigh, he fared well too. He is on shore leave now, lucky sod, while I am drinking a small ale then go run errands.”

Remembering something Sharky’s fiancée might like, he asked her:

”Has he told you about the ballad too? It was our greatest surprise at the fires on Inagua.”

He didn’t know what else to say, how to talk to her to make sure her next words didn’t get drowned in a sea of tears again, just like at Michaelmas.

[align=center] This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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Marina Costa
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Governess, Kingston
Civilian Admin
So he had met Andrea! She knew that he was called Angel now, she had heard Leif calling him so. And Neil was one of those about whom he was writing her.

"Thank you for the good news. And yes, I know about the ballad. He sent me the verses written down. Had he sung it to you?"

Then she felt she had to clarify her brother's position:

"My brother advised me to ask for my mistress's recommendation for a good lawyer, and that we should see a lawyer first, we shouldn't be alone in front of the judge."

It was good advice... As she finished and sealed the letter, she asked Neil:

"Would you remain a little here until I cross the street to meet the Duchess, who is at the seamstress now?"

"And the seamstress is probably already scandalized about the lady's approach on her mourning period," she thought.
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NEIL DONOVAN, privateer carpenter [/align]

So in the letter, her brother had put the ballad too. Interesting.

”Yes, he did, adapting another song I had heard before. It sounded nice, and your brother plays the mandolin too.”

When hearing about a lawyer, he raised a brow.

”I guess a lawyer is more expensive than a judge’s ruling… but I understand his point. Law affairs are scary. Especially in your situation…”

Of course a Duchess might know and recommend the most trustful lawyer – if there was any deserving this label. Simple men got often cheated in justice, so Neil had a legitimate aversion for everything related.

”Yes, I’ll wait here.”

[align=center] This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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Daigh Edmund
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Sailor aboard the "Twilight Shark"
Privateer
Daigh was no expert in the matters of the earth, but he was relatively sure that the ground shouldn't have been trying to trip him. If it was in the ground's nature to do so, he was positive that someone would have informed him. Or that he would've noticed at some point. Never-the-less, he pushed on, ignoring the bemused stares he recieved as his legs continued to compensate for the rolling dirt beneath his feet.

Jostled by another who was walking the streets, Daigh found himself face to face with a tavern. "Ar fheabhas!" He said and stumbled through the open door. He made his way over to the barkeeper and ordered two ales, but not before cursing an unfortunate chair to the depths of hell for having the nerve to stand in his way. Ales in hand, he turned and scanned the room for somewhere to sit. It was then that he spotted a familiar mop of dark hair and set off towards it, his legs still having a rough time with walking in a straight line.

Once he arrived at his destination, Daigh plopped down onto the seat next to Neil and deposited an ale in front of the carpenter. "Di duit, my friend. Drink up!" Before Daigh could start on his own ale, he realized that there was another at the table, a woman with a letter and ink in front of her instead of a drink. She looked familiar... The Irishman gave her a hard stare for a moment before a grin took over his face.

"Dia dhuit, cailín! Dia dhuit! Long time no see, eh? How's the babe?" He slid his own ale in front of her, careful not to spill a drop. He looked at the mug, then at her, then back at the mug, his lips pursed and forehead wrinkled. "No, nonono. Níl ale for you, cailín. Wouldn't want Sharky's babe to turn out like me, eh?" He said, grin back on his face as he slid the ale back over to himself and took a big gulp of it.
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Marina Costa
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Governess, Kingston
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Marina returned quickly to Neil with an useful recommendation from Lady Elinor de Vere. Even now, heavy with child, her step was almost as lively as before. Nineteen years and a half, and an outgoing, active personality didn’t match with the calmer behaviour expected from a mother-to-be.

She hurried to tell him:

”My mistress says I should visit Sir Blackwood’s Attorney-at- Law offices. And there is Mr. Jonathan Willett, who had taken care of the legal aspects of the late Duke’s succession, so he will know how to help me too. Given that you might not be in port for a long time, I’ll be delighted if you accompany me there now.”

She didn’t need to wait much for his answer when another known figure appeared by her side – Daigh, the other Irish man, who brought another ale to Neil. Neil had told her that he was one willing to testify too… and the fact that he asked directly about the baby meant that Andrea had told him. She wasn’t ashamed as another unwed mother in her situation would have been; she looked at him with a serene smile, answering the Irish greeting:

Dia is Muire dhuit. We are both well, thank you. He’s moving already.”

It was not exactly what a man should hear, but she had no idea about this part of good manners. Who had ever told her about pregnancy and being a mother? She heard only bits and pieces from here and there since the end of July.

When he wanted to give her his ale, then took it back with a funny comment, she laughed.

”Thank you, I’ll stick with my cider, which hasn’t been finished yet. I’m not craving for ale. But having a boy to grow up into a good sailor and a good man like you wouldn’t have been such a bad choice.”

He was a few years younger than her father, but somehow resembling to him in personality, so no wonder that Marina admired Daigh.
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NEIL DONOVAN, privateer carpenter [/align]

Neil hadn’t needed to wait much for her return. He hadn’t finished his ale (well, he hadn’t been in a hurry to drink it either) when she returned with a name and an address of a lawyer. This meant more delay for someone who went in town with errands… but with a bit of luck he might solve everything. Including this issue which he felt he owed to his lost friend.

”I guess half an hour or one hour added to my time in town wouldn’t be too much,” he shrugged.

Lawyers and legal issues in general made him uncomfortable, but this was something he had to go through. And accompanying her meant that he would know from the start if his presence was needed to another meeting or not.

Right then, another mug of ale appeared in front of him, and Daigh’s well known voice inviting him to drink it up.

”I will, but it is the last one for now. I have errands in town… and if you don’t drink more than this one too, you might help me with them.”

As the crewmate recognized Marina and talked with her, he stated his intentions clearly:

”For a start, we are going to the lawyer, I understood that the office isn’t too far from the market streets, and it’s close to the main square. You may accompany us if you want to. Then, I have to buy some supplies, and I’d welcome your help. I promise another mug of ale afterwards.”

He didn’t know if a man obviously half-drunk would be taken seriously by the lawyer or not.

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Daigh Edmund
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Sailor aboard the "Twilight Shark"
Privateer
"Get out, ye useless cur! Ye got sheep that need tendin' to."

"But, ionúin! The babe, 'e's puttin' up a fight in yer stomach! Can't ye feel it?" Despite the pleading tone to his voice, Daigh's face was overcome with a grin. His hands were resting on his wife's rotund stomach as she stood in the kitchen, one hand on the butter churn.

"Aye, I c'n feel 'im alright, that's why I want ye gone! It's hard enough trying to make butter with this bulge in me way, I don't need you adding to my troubles." His wife said as she pushed him away with a smile.

"But -"

"Out!"


Daigh's grin was starting to make his cheeks hurt. He shook his head to clear it of old memories. He heard Marina's comment and winked at her as he said, "Nay, ye want a babe with smarts, so 'e can make sommat of hisself and take care of 'is mum." He took a long drink of his ale as he listened to Neil mention that he had errands to do, one of them being accompanying Marina to speak with her lawyer about Sharky. His grin faded and the Irishman looked down into his half-empty mug with a sigh. Turning in his chair he handed it over to a sailor at a nearby table. He hesitated for a moment, then grabbed Neil's ales and handed them off to the same sailor, who accepted them with a cheerful smile.

He turned back around and shrugged at Neil, "Iffn I can't have any, neither can ye, eh?" He propped his arms on the table and said, "So, where to?"
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Jonathan Willett
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Lawyer
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Sir Blackwood had already left for the day, the great man was rarely in the office, just receiving those of great importance, accepting cases, then passing on the work to Jonathan, who had to research the cases, find the appropriate law clauses, write up the lawful claims and set down arguments for and against, so that Sir Blackwood would have all the information at his fingertips when he went in front of the judge, or when he signed his name to letters written by Jonathan.

This was the way of the assistant, one day Sir Blackwood would pass on some important cases in court, or allow Jonathan his own cases that may make his name, but till then jonathan was the man behind the law seat, the knowledge, the worker, but not the one to revel in the fame.

His desk was set with tombs of books, opened at various pages, as Jonathan re read old cases filed, and jotted down notes and dates to set against evidence. The office as always was silent except for the sound of pens scribbling, and the loud tick of the French tall clock that told Jonathan that he was no where near finished for the day yet.
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Marina Costa
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Governess, Kingston
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Marina smiled at his acceptance to accompany her to the lawyer. She didn’t actually fear authority, but she was glad not to be alone in it.

”Thank you very much. I really appreciate your help.”

Daigh grinned when she told him that the baby was all right. If she remembered well from Michaelmas – not that she could be sure about anything lately – he had told her that he had a daughter too. At her expression of admiration towards the older sailor, he winked, telling her that she should want a smart son, to take care of his mother later.

”Thank you for saying this,” she blushed.

It wasn’t as if she heard such kind words every day. Yes, her mistress was treating her well, nothing to say, but their conversations were mostly circumventing the progress of little master Richard in learning various things. This was how things were expected to happen. As for the other servants, they weren’t exactly unpleasant to her face, but neither the opposite. And she had heard, by chance, a few of their gossips about her, without suspecting that more serious ones were whispered as well.

She smiled at Daigh’s antics in getting rid of both ale mugs.

”Well, to Sir Blackwood’s office then!”
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NEIL DONOVAN, privateer carpenter [/align]

Neil nodded appreciatively at Daigh’s comments to Marina, then he looked surprised when the ale disappeared from his hand, taken by a quick and determined hand. So Daigh wasn;t as drunk as he had suspected him to be, given his quick reactions.

He looked at Marina’s serene smile and a sort of protective worry tugged at him, the kind one would have for a naive younger sister or cousin.

”Lass, you have no idea how nasty it can be,” he warned her. ”Be prepared for the most uncomfortable questions possible from the lawyer, and, later, from the judge. Be prepared for offensive statements too, and for having your motives questioned. You don’t seem to have faced too much scorn yet for being an unwed mother – it has just to come, unfortunately, until the judge gives his decision.”

He had seen worse in Boston, but he didn’t want to scare her.

”Good choice from you too, mate,” he smiled to Daigh.

Soon the three of them arrived to the lawyer’s office. A footman introduced them to the man they had asked for.

”Mr. Willett, there are two men and a woman asking for you. They say Lady de Vere had recommended you to them.”

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Jonathan Willett
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Lawyer
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Lady deVere had indeed spoken to the firm, and the paperwork had fallen on his desk, along with a reminder that Lady De Vere was a well thought of customer and that Jonathan should do all he could to help in order to keep the ‘lady’ pleased.

The rest of the details were scarce only a brief note about it being a legal issue over broken engagement/ break of promise.

Jonathan stood to welcome what he assumed would be a young lady of high standing, pullng down at his waist coat, and fastening the top button which needed the hole stitching as it came loose often. His face was set to a kindly expression, expecting a likely upset and tearful young lady, broken over a charlatans poor behaviour which by law if she had been engaged then the man had commitments he had to adhere to, or make amends financially to the family.

When the three people walked in, Jonathan’s eyebrows lifted, and he looked at the footman who gave nothing more than a non plussed expression.
‘ You are from Lady De Vere?’
Jonathan asked incredulously, at there confirmation Jonathan looked to the woman and men, all lower class, and hardly who he would expect Lady De vere to even know, let alone stand as invitee for, his eyes took in there appearance, from tip to toe, and was not impressed by what he saw, or smelt.

‘ What exactly is it I can do you for?’ Taking out his coat pocket fob watch he noted the time for no other reason than to encourage these ‘ people’ to make this short.
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Marina Costa
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Governess, Kingston
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Marina looked at Neil with a frown of worry.

”Thank you for your warning,” she said serenely, still not sure what to expect.

God was with her. He was the one watching over her and her baby, and her patron saint. If it was for her to be humiliated... others had been too, and they had endured it.

She told to the butler (if he had any other position, this was how she had considered him) that they had been sent by Lady de Vere, but, upon entrance, the lawyer asked them the same thing.

”Good afternoon, Sir! Yes, I am Marina Costa, a governess in Lady de Vere's service.”

She looked on the note from Andrea, to be sure that she didn’t say the wrong word, then she looked serenely at the young lawyer, who didn't seem older than her own brother:

”I was told to come to you to help me with a thing called spousal de futuro according to which my child is legitimate. The privateers here, my lost fiance’s friends, can testify that they knew about his intentions to marry me when the war ends and they knew when he crafted for me the engagement token I received.”

She understood that he had not much time available. Neil didn't either, so she was brief and to the point - or so she thought.

The Irishman didn't dare to speak uninvited. He knew better than angering a man of the law.
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