"Sam, did you read this?"
"Read what?" Sam looked up from his routine preparations for bed. Frodo had lit a candle and taken a seat near the fire soon after they'd entered their room at the Mousehole Inn; Sam had been aware that he was reading something, but until this moment hadn't observed what it was. "Is that Mrs. Scuttle's will? How'd you get hold of it?"
"Mr. Leekey left it in the study. I asked your aunt if I might borrow it. You haven't read it, Sam?"
"No, I didn't get to look at it," Sam answered. "That Leekey feller only read the parts that had to do with us--me 'n' Aunt Lula and the other folk that was at the funeral and came back to the house afterwards. Is there somebody else who came in for money he didn't mention?"
"No, Mr. Leekey told the truth when he said that there were no surprising bequests or hidden heirs. But he didn't tell you precisely how much Mrs. Scuttle left to him, did he?"
Sam shook his head. "Is it a lot?"
"Quite a lot," answered Frodo. "More than you and your brother Ham received together."
Sam whistled in surprise, then said, "Well, he's some sort of nephew to her last husband. That counts for something."
"Even so, it's a munificent bequest. By his own account, she only became acquainted with him a few years ago and made use of him as an agent rather than treated him as one of her family. I doubt she considers him her nephew in the way she considered Mrs. Tredgold her niece. She left him none of the property. That all went to Mrs. Tredgold. Whether or not your aunt Lula remains here in Gamwich, she is now a lady of some means."
"Property's so important?"
"Certainly." Frodo lowered the paper he was holding. "Money's nice to have, but you can only store it in a strongbox `til you spend it, and then it's gone," he explained. "Property can be used to create a steady income. You can rent out a smial you aren't living in, or a pasture or field for farming."
Sam's expression brightened. "So that's how come gentlefolk always have so much money when they never do a lick o' work?" he asked with a grin.
Frodo laughed. "Yes, that's precisely why! Someone like Uncle Paladin or Merry, who own a tenth part of the Shire, need never lift a finger and can still be rich beyond calculation. It's why I've made such effort to see you become a hobbit of property, dear Sam." He waved the will, which he still held in one hand. "Property or no, this bequest is a surprising act of generosity from a lady not known for her generous acts. I ought to ask Mr. Leekey if he can account for it. I have some other questions for him about the disposition of Mrs. Scuttle's possessions too."
"You got an idea?"
"Well... only a vague sort of notion," Frodo admitted. "I'll need to have my questions answered before it can grow into something more. Tomorrow."
"Are you ready to come to bed?" Sam had washed up and changed into his nightshirt during this conversation, but Frodo remained fully dressed.
"Not quite yet, my dear." Frodo set the will aside. "I want to write to Melly and it has to be done tonight if it's to be sent out in the first morning post. I'll send your hugs and kisses to the children too." He retrieved a quill, ink pot, and sheet of paper from the writing box he had brought with him and settled down at a small table on the other side of the bed.
"You do that," Sam said as he climbed into bed. "How's Mrs. Took getting on?" Melly had insisted that he call her by her first name and he did so to her face, but he continued to feel that it wasn't quite respectful to speak of her so familiarly to others. "I barely had time to say Hullo to her before I had to go off."
"She seems to be happy at Bag End, and the children are delighted to have her there. I hope she decides to stay on with us, but that will have to wait and be settled after you and I are home again." Frodo wrote of his safe arrival in Gamwich and a not very detailed account of the gruesome beginning of his investigation as he spoke.
"You 'n' her..." Sam ventured. He felt rather silly worrying about it, but it had been on his mind since he'd left the two at Bag End.
Frodo looked up from his writing. "Don't be ridiculous, Sam. If we intended to get up to any naughtiness of that sort together, we could've done it quite respectably as husband and wife. Melly had only to say Yes to my proposal. She won't, though."
"You sure she won't change her mind?"
"Quite sure. When she gave me her reasons for her refusal, I could see that they were very good ones." Frodo wrote one last line, then set down his quill, picked up the finished letter, and blew on it gently. When he was satisfied that the ink was dry, he folded it into a square and wrote the direction on one side--Mrs. Melilot Took, Bag End, Hobbiton--before turning it over to seal it with a blob of hot wax from the candle. "And, my love, her reasons are precisely why you shouldn't be troubled."
"What d'you mean?" asked Sam. He had known that Melly meant to turn down Frodo's proposal before she'd spoken to Frodo himself, but neither had told him what they'd said to each other on the subject.
Frodo was about to open the door, but he turned at the question and gazed into Sam's eyes with an expression that was more playful than solemn. "I mean that she didn't want another husband who didn't want to go to bed with her. One was quite enough. I think that's perfectly natural, don't you?"
Sam agreed.
"Well, then. I won't be long--I want to give this to Mr. Bloomer for the post-bag--but when I come back, please be out of that nightshirt, and I will be more than happy to get into bed with you." A hint of a smile flickered on Frodo's face to match the twinkle in his eye. "You do realize that this is the same room we were staying in when we first played those old games of ours? I tied your wrists to that headboard and bathed your feet, and then..."
"I remember." Sam was unlikely to forget it; his mouth went dry and his heart began to thump at the memory.
Frodo went out, shutting the door behind him. Sam scrambled out of bed, tossed aside his nightshirt, and opened the wardrobe to retrieve the waistcord from Frodo's dressing gown. He looped one end of the cord around his wrist and struggled to tie it with his free hand and his teeth, hoping that he would be able to get the knot fixed before Frodo came back.
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