A Daughter's Inheritance (18 page)

Fanny’s eyes met Michael’s as he helped her into the boat. She read the apologetic look—at least that’s what she wanted to believe. Having Theresa accompany them wasn’t his fault. After Sophie’s comment, what else could he do? Of course he could have discouraged her from remaining so close to his side throughout the excursion. Fanny peeked from beneath the brim of her straw hat and watched Theresa talking to him. He seemed engrossed in what she was saying. Fanny looked away when Theresa placed a possessive hold on Michael’s arm. Perhaps he enjoyed her company. A picture of Michael carrying Theresa out of the woods on the day of her arrival paraded through Fanny’s mind, and she turned away. And he’d been unusually distant since Sunday, when they’d gone to vespers. In fact, he’d avoided her on several occasions since then. She could feel tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. She’d be unable to explain if someone should notice.

Theresa continued to cling to Michael’s arm. By the time they arrived at the island, Fanny was pleased to disembark. Having Theresa along had diminished her pleasure. The three of them waited while Michael unloaded their belongings.

He touched Fanny’s sleeve as he handed her the fishing poles. “I’ll return at four o’clock.” He set a can of worms on a rock near her feet. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before returning to the launch.

Fanny remained near the shoreline and watched as the boat churned through the murky water before picking up speed. Theresa’s enthusiastic waves continued until they were nearly out of sight.

“I think she’s quite taken with Michael, don’t you?” Sophie leaned forward and picked up the can of worms.

“It would appear that way.” Fanny swallowed hard and pushed back the lump in her throat.

“But I don’t think she loves him as much as you do.”

Fanny twisted around to face Sophie. She rubbed her fingers along the nape of her neck in an attempt to relieve the dull ache that was working its way up her skull and toward her temples. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Michael and I are friends. You know we’ve spent many hours together since we were young children. I believe you’re permitting your fanciful imagination to run wild.”

Amanda giggled. “How could you even say such a thing, Sophie? When Fanny is interested in a young man, she’ll be looking for someone of her own social class. Not that Michael isn’t a fine man,” she quickly added. “But someone of his class could hardly ask my father for Fanny’s hand.”

Though Fanny did not dare object to Amanda’s remarks, she wanted to tell her cousin she was guilty of snobbery in the extreme. Amanda had pledged to spend her future helping the less fortunate, yet she possessed her father’s view regarding class and status. Did she not understand her attitude would spill over to those whom she attempted to serve in the future? Her cousins were at opposing ends of the spectrum. Sophie wanted the world to know she had no use for class or society, although she enjoyed the pleasures wealth could buy. On the other hand, Amanda thought social status of import. She viewed the family social status as a way of opening doors to aid charitable causes.

Strange that she could clearly articulate her cousins’ beliefs, but when it came to her own convictions, Fanny experienced difficulty. Perhaps because she disliked confrontation, she had never clearly decided what she believed. Fearful of being ridiculed or appearing foolish, she typically kept her thoughts to herself. Only when she talked to Michael did she feel she could freely express herself. From all appearances, Theresa felt entirely comfortable in his presence, also.

Sophie wiggled the can of worms beneath Fanny’s nose. “Are we going to fish or explore the island? This is your outing of choice, so you lead the way.”

“Let’s spread our blanket. We can decide after we’ve eaten lunch.” Without waiting for her cousins’ consent, Fanny flipped the blanket into the air and spread it on a well-shaded spot not far from the water’s edge.

While Amanda and Fanny unpacked the basket, Sophie reclined on the blanket and eyed each selection. “You could have requested something other than sandwiches, Fanny. Rather boring fare, don’t you think?”

“I did the best I could. Mrs. O’Malley and Mrs. Atwell were busy planning the week’s menus. I didn’t want to interfere, so I prepared our lunch on my own.”

“Do tell! Aren’t you becoming quite the domesticated young woman! No need for servants to do your bidding? I believe you
would
fit into Michael Atwell’s life without much difficulty.” Sophie removed several grapes from a large cluster and tossed one into her mouth.

“Make yourself useful and pour our drinks, Sophie.” Amanda flashed a sour look across the blanket.

“Oh, all right, but I do wish you’d quit your bossing, Amanda. It’s very unbecoming, you know.” Sophie placed her hands on the ground and pushed herself up. “Ouch! What was that?” She examined her palm. “Now, look. What with my earlier scratches and now this cut, I’m truly injured. Where’s your handkerchief, Fanny?”

While Sophie blotted the cut with the handkerchief, Fanny lifted the corner of the blanket and brushed her fingers over the ground. There! Something sharp protruded through the grass. Probably just a rock, but she yanked the grass and weeds surrounding the object. “Hand me one of those spoons, Amanda.”

“You’re going to dig in the dirt with the good silver?”

“Forevermore, Amanda, just give me the spoon. It isn’t the good silver—I promise.” Fanny grabbed the utensil from her cousin’s hand; soon she’d excavated the sharp object. After removing the traces of dirt with one of the napkins, she extended her palm. “Look.”

Sophie shrugged. “A flat piece of rock. So what?”

“No. It’s an Iroquois arrowhead,” she said with an air of authority.

“How would you know? I agree with Sophie. It looks like a pointed flat stone.”

“No.” Fanny shook her head. “Michael had several in his pocket, and he showed them to me. He’s been collecting them since he was a little boy. He has some that he has discovered are Iroquois and a few that are Mississauga. Both tribes inhabited the islands years ago.” While her cousins helped themselves to the chicken sandwiches, Fanny used her napkin to continue polishing the arrowhead. “This is ever so exciting. I wonder if we can find some others.”

Amanda glanced heavenward. “Please, Fanny. Let’s not make this some archaeological expedition. You’re not another Sir Austen Henry Layard.”

“Who’s
that
?” Sophie asked before taking another bite of her sandwich.

“He’s the famous archaeologist that grandfather met in England a long time ago. He died a few years past. Surely you remember. He discovered the remains of the Assyrian regal monuments and cuneiform inscriptions and concluded they were the visible remains of Nineveh. He wrote a book about his second expedition. Grandfather told us about it several times.”

“Isn’t Nineveh in the Bible or something?”

“Yes, it’s in the Bible, but this is—oh, never mind.” Amanda tossed a grape seed toward the water. “You’re not even listening.”

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful to discover some ancient ruin?”

Fanny tucked the arrowhead into the pocket of her dress.

Sophie sighed and leaned against the trunk of an ancient white spruce. “It would be more exciting to discover some nice fellows. I’m bored. I haven’t met even one new man who strikes my fancy. I’m ready to go home.”

“Well,
that’s
not going to occur. We’re here for the duration of the summer, so you might as well decide to enjoy yourself.” Amanda repacked the picnic basket and closed the lid with a decisive thump. “Are we fishing or exploring, Fanny?”

“We’ll explore first, and then we’ll fish. That way we’ll see Michael when he returns.”

“And I’ll wager you’re hoping he’ll return without Theresa. Am I right?” Sophie nudged her cousin and giggled.

Fanny pretended she didn’t hear.

13

Monday, July 19, 1897

Jonas had planned to catch the early train, but his plans had gone awry when Victoria insisted upon accompanying him to Clayton in order to visit one of her favorite dressmakers. He’d missed the early train, so the first day of the workweek would be a complete loss. She ignored his grumbles and told him it was summertime and he should relax. Women! They didn’t understand the complexity of operating a business and acquiring assets. They did, however, possess the ability to spend money without difficulty.

During their short boat ride from the island, Victoria regaled him with details of the fabric and the dress she was having fashioned for one of their upcoming parties. When he thought a response was expected, he offered no more than a grunt or a nod. The two of them had been married long enough that she should realize he cared not a whit about chiffon and muslin or whether a dress was pleated, tucked, or puffed. He reminded himself that a woman’s brain could be easily occupied with matters of little import, whereas a man’s mind required the meaty issues of life.

He offered his hand to Victoria and assisted her onto the boat dock that bordered the Clayton train tracks. She tucked her hand beneath his arm. They appeared the perfect couple.

When they’d safely traversed the tracks and reached the platform, Victoria pecked Jonas on the cheek. “I do wish you’d make an effort to return on Thursday evening rather than Friday. The family could enjoy a nice long weekend together. Promise you’ll do your best.”

Jonas touched the brim of his hat. “I’ll try, but with my late departure today, I doubt I can return before Friday. You do remember that I may have guests with me.”

She stopped midstep. “Guests?”

A train whistle wailed in the distance, and Jonas glanced down the tracks. “I told you that I plan to use my free time each evening deciding upon eligible suitors for Amanda and Fanny. I told you I’d be bringing the young men to visit at the island.”

“But I didn’t think you meant so soon. I wanted to discuss the matter further, Jonas. I’ve already told you that I’m opposed to this matchmaking idea. I want the girls to marry for love, not because they’ve been forced into an arranged marriage.”

He craned his neck and peered down the tracks. Why didn’t the train arrive? He was tired of explaining the same thing over and over to his wife. Why couldn’t women merely accept that their husbands knew what was best!

“As I’ve already told you, it is much too risky to allow them to make such weighty decisions. Besides, it’s time the girls accepted a few of the responsibilities that accompany the wealth they’ve enjoyed all these years. Marrying well is expected, and young women can’t be trusted to make wise choices.”

A breeze played at the hem of Victoria’s pale blue muslin gown. “And I say they are intelligent young ladies who should have a say in choosing a husband.”

Jonas sighed. “Why do you argue with me? We didn’t marry for love. Surely our marriage is proof enough that love can grow.”

“Speak for yourself, Jonas Broadmoor.” With a stomp of her leather slipper, she turned and strode off without a backward glance.

“Don’t forget to alert the staff there will be additional guests arriving for the weekend,” he called.

His wife didn’t acknowledge him, but Jonas knew she’d heard the reminder. In time he’d win Victoria over to his way of thinking. If necessary, he’d tell her Fanny’s interest in Michael was proof enough that the girl couldn’t be trusted to marry a man of worth. Even if Victoria didn’t come around to his idea, she would accept his decision. She had no choice.

Once settled on the train, Jonas searched his mind for potential candidates, primarily for Fanny. He would concentrate on her first. Finding the proper man for Fanny was urgent. There were plenty of young men who would prove acceptable for his own daughter. But the man for Fanny must be very carefully selected. He’d need a man of social position. Yet the proper candidate must be willing to adhere to Jonas’s commands. Someone with an eye toward attaining the wealth and power associated with the Broadmoor name, a man who would not otherwise be considered.

Suddenly he was struck by a thought of brilliance. This would not be so difficult after all! Many powerful families in New York had suffered through the depression and still remained in a state of economic instability. Others would never recover. For the present, they all maintained their social standing within the ranks of New York society. Fanny’s group of suitors would be the sons of such men! Any of them had much to gain by marrying young Frances Jane Broadmoor and would be easily managed.

Indeed, he would speak to his lawyer as soon as possible. Mortimer would surely know of some suitable young men—and if he didn’t, his younger son, John, would prove helpful. Still unmarried, John Fillmore enjoyed the social life; he was certain to know any such eligible men. Of course Jonas wouldn’t confide in John. He’d rely upon Mortimer to extract the information from his son. While Jonas trusted both the lawyer and his older son, Vincent, implicitly, he thought John exceedingly lazy. Somewhat akin to his own sons Jefferson and George.

“Must be this generation,” Jonas muttered hours later as he stepped down from the train. Weary from his journey, he departed the station and signaled for a cab. There would be little accomplished at this late hour. He’d go directly to the house. First thing tomorrow, he’d set his plan in motion.