“Did ye know yer wife owes a sizable debt to John Cromwell?”
“No.”
“Ah, well . . .” He scoffs, tapping the paperwork. “Let me enlighten ye . . .”
“Debt, ye say?”
“Yes.” Skerry looks through the documents again. “Master Cromwell paid several debts yer wife accrued during her marriage to Daniel Poole. He sued at this quarter’s court at Ipswich for the funds, which came to seven pounds, eight shillings, and nine pence—to be paid in corn or cattle. In addition, court costs are nine pence, and my services to execute the court order are two shillings.”
“But, sir,” I say, very much regretting coming here, “we only received the meadow last month. We’ve yet to receive any rental fees.”
“Alas, such matters are in Jehovah’s hands.” Skerry hands me a document.
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