A Daughter's Inheritance (21 page)

“Don’t sell yourself short, Fanny. I’ve challenged the others to a rematch and have already insisted that you’ll remain my partner.”

“I don’t know, I—”

“That sounds like a splendid idea. I believe you’re sitting next to each other at dinner. The two of you can discuss your strategy then.” Uncle Jonas winked at Frank. “Unless Benjamin succeeds in occupying Fanny’s attention. If memory serves me correctly, he’s going to occupy the chair to Fanny’s left.”

Fanny gulped. How did Uncle Jonas know the seating arrangement? Had he already been in the dining room? For that matter, Fanny wondered if all of the other guests had been in the dining room before she came downstairs. What if everyone discovered what she had done with the place cards?

“I don’t believe so, Uncle Jonas. Aunt Victoria knows I always request a chair near Amanda or Sophie.” She pointed to the lake. “Do you fish, Mr. Colgan?” Perhaps if she changed the topic, Uncle Jonas would forget the seating arrangement.

Frank shook his head. “Do
you
fish, Miss Broadmoor?”

From his grin, Fanny knew her answer would surprise. “Indeed I do, Mr. Colgan. Fishing is one of my favorite pastimes.”

“Then I hope you’ll agree to take me fishing during my visit this weekend, Miss Broadmoor. I would be delighted to have you act as my instructor.”

Now what? Her plan to change the conversation from the seating arrangement had turned into an afternoon of fishing with Mr. Colgan. She didn’t have time to object before Uncle Jonas was offering to have Mrs. Atwell pack a picnic lunch for their proposed outing.

“I suggest you take a canoe and row over to one of the far islands, where the fishermen usually meet with great success,” Uncle Jonas proposed. “Early morning is best. Why don’t the two of you plan on going out tomorrow? I’ll see to the arrangements for the canoe. No need for you to go down to the boathouse, Fanny. I’ll have Michael tie one of the canoes to the small dock, since it’s closer to the house and will be more convenient.”

The family seldom used the small dock. It had been constructed years ago, before completion of the new boathouse. Her grandfather had considered having it dismantled, but Grand-mère had objected, citing its proximity to the house. Grandfather had bowed to her wishes, though Fanny didn’t recall Grand-mère ever using the small dock.

“No need adding to Michael’s workload, Uncle Jonas. Surely Mr. Colgan doesn’t consider a walk to the boathouse taxing.”

If luck was with her, Fanny would have a few minutes alone with Michael. She’d make certain of it!

“That’s why I pay the staff, Fanny dear. You need not worry about Michael Atwell’s workload. The canoe will await you and Frank at the small dock in the morning.”

The maid announced supper before Fanny could offer further argument. Not that she could change her uncle’s mind. From the set of his jaw, he appeared resolute, and her thoughts had already returned to the exchanged place cards. Following Aunt Victoria’s usual custom, the guests circled the table searching for their names. When Fanny stopped at the chair next to Amanda, she didn’t fail to note her aunt’s surprise.

Uncle Jonas signaled his wife. “I’m not certain we’re all in the proper seats, are we? After all, Amanda and Fanny are seated next to each other.”

“I do believe we all know how to read, Jonas. I daresay, the name cards are clearly printed with each guest’s name.” Aunt Victoria offered an apologetic smile to the group. “Would you please check your name card to ensure you’re at the proper chair?” Murmurs and nods followed the request. When no one made a move, their hostess shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jonas. It appears that you’re mistaken. After all, there is nothing wrong with having two young women seated side by side.”

15

Saturday, July 24, 1897

Late the next morning Fanny spotted Amanda sitting beneath a stand of white spruce not far from the little dock and waved from the canoe. She was pleased to be returning home. Fishing with Frank had been an exercise in futility. Though she’d done her best to teach him the proper technique for baiting his hook, he’d been as inept as a young child. He’d bloodied his fingers not once but on three separate occasions. And all had been in vain, for he’d accomplished nothing other than to feed his worms to the fish.

And he wouldn’t be quiet! She had explained that fishing was a silent sport, but Frank had ignored her requests to cease his incessant talking. When she finally confronted him, he actually admitted fishing didn’t interest him in the least. The fishing trip had been a ploy to gain her full attention—at least that’s what he’d said. And that was when Fanny decided they would immediately return to Broadmoor Island.

Frank had argued they should remain until after their picnic lunch, but Fanny refused. Seeing Amanda confirmed her decision. Perhaps the two of them could take the picnic lunch Mrs. Atwell had packed and retreat to the far side of the island by themselves for the remainder of the afternoon. The thought prompted her to hurry Frank in his attempt to guide the canoe alongside the dock. She didn’t fault him for his clumsiness, for he’d had little experience paddling a canoe. However, her irritation continued to mount when he steadfastly failed to follow her instructions.

Fanny glanced over her shoulder and pointed at the paddle. “Turn the paddle in the other direction or we’ll head back into the current, Frank.”

She hoped he would listen, for this outing had gone on long enough and she had no desire to have to paddle back upstream.

“I think I can use my—” The canoe lurched back and forth.

“Sit down, Frank! You’re going to cause us to—”

Before she could complete her sentence, Fanny was immersed in the St. Lawrence River. She flapped her arms and sputtered, her gown and petticoats quickly soaking up water like a parched flower bed. Her new straw hat bobbed toward shore, and remnants of Mrs. Atwell’s carefully packed sandwiches were already providing sustenance for a hungry duck. She need not worry about Frank, for he had remained with the now overturned canoe and was trying his best to climb atop it. Using his arms and legs for support, he wrapped himself around the canoe like a bear clinging to a tree trunk, only to fall back into the water again and again.

After two wide arcing strokes, Fanny forced her torso down and into a standing position. Fighting against the weight of her drenched clothing, she pushed through the water with determined strides and maneuvered toward the dock.

Amanda stood grinning at the water’s edge. “We have a bathtub, Fanny. You need not bathe in the river.”

Fanny held out a hand for her cousin to help her onto dry land. “If you weren’t wearing that lovely gown, I’d be tempted to pull you in here with me.”

The two of them giggled, and Amanda glanced toward Frank, who continued to cling to the canoe, even though he couldn’t seem to climb atop. The river’s motion was gently bringing him toward the dock and shallower water.

“When are you going to tell him he can touch bottom?”

“I thought I’d wait a few minutes longer.” She turned toward the dock and shaded her eyes. “Can you swim, Frank?”

“No! Would you send someone to help? I don’t have strength enough to lift my weight onto the canoe. If I turn loose, I’m going to go under.”

“I’d attempt to save you myself, but I believe I’d pull us both under, what with all this water weighing down my dress. Amanda can swim, but I don’t want her to ruin her new dress. You do understand, of course.”

“Yes, of course!” he hollered. “Send one of the other men or the fellow over at the boathouse.”

His hands were beginning to slip, and Fanny could see him fighting to gain control. She tipped her head toward Amanda. “Oh, I don’t suppose I should torture him much longer, should I?”

“I suppose not. He does look rather frightened—and you do need to get out of those wet clothes.”

The two girls headed toward the path. When they’d neared the house, Fanny turned around and cupped her hands to her mouth. “Frank! You can touch bottom if you’ll put your feet down.”

The two girls watched for a moment, but Frank continued to clutch the canoe as it bobbed against the dock. Amanda shook her head. “He doesn’t follow instructions very well, does he?”

“That, my dear cousin, is exactly why we ended up in the river! When he grows weary enough, he’ll discover I’ve told him the truth.” Fanny opened the door for her cousin. “Shall we go inside?”

Jonas couldn’t believe his eyes—or his ears, for that matter. Considering the number of guests visiting for the weekend, the house had seemed unusually quiet, and he had walked outdoors expecting to see the young people engaged in a game of croquet. Instead, he was greeted by a call for help and immediately ran toward the river.

There, beside the dock, he caught sight of young Frank Colgan clinging to one of the Broadmoor canoes. “Let go and stand down, Frank. The water is less than six foot.”

“I can’t swim,” Frank shouted.

Jonas wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead and attempted to restrain his irritation. “You don’t
need
to swim! You can walk. Put your feet down!” He could see the hesitation as Frank finally dropped his legs and then loosened his hold.

“I
can
touch the bottom.” Relief flooded the young man’s voice, although he continued to remain close to the dock’s edge while wading out of the river.

“What happened? And where is my niece?” Jonas took several backward steps as Frank stepped onto dry ground and then shook like a wet retriever.

“Oh, sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to get you wet.” He slicked his hair back with one hand. “Fanny and Amanda are inside.”

“Then would you care to explain what you’re doing pretending to be drowning?”

Frank’s eyes opened wide and he trembled. “I wasn’t pretending, Mr. Broadmoor. I truly believed I was going to die.”

How cruel of the girls to walk off and leave a man to think he might die. The very thought! “Are you telling me that my niece and daughter were aware of your dilemma and didn’t advise you there was no need for concern?”

“Fanny told me, but I was afraid to let loose. What if she hadn’t been telling the truth?”

Jonas massaged his forehead. Clearly this young man was foolish enough to serve the purpose for which he had been brought here, yet if he wouldn’t follow a simple direction that could save his own life, Jonas wondered if Frank would prove a wise choice. Without prompting, the young man would likely forget to come in out of the rain. Jonas wanted a man he could control, but he didn’t want a dolt. Maybe Benjamin or Fred would prove a superior selection.

Jonas sent for Michael to retrieve the canoe and then directed Frank upstairs to change into a dry suit. After dealing with Frank, Jonas needed to solidify his plan. Just when he had thought his strategy was moving forward with ease, Frank had dashed his hopes.

He returned to the veranda and a short time later heard Amanda and Fanny giggling. “You girls come out here immediately.”

“Yes, Father?”

He ignored his daughter and beckoned to Fanny. “I discovered Frank in the river a short time ago.” He wagged his head back and forth. “He’s upstairs changing clothes. I suggest you go and join our other guests.”

Fanny arched her brows and glanced toward the lawn. “I have no idea where your guests have gone, Uncle Jonas. Besides, Amanda and I are going to enjoy a late lunch at the far end of the island. If we can convince Mrs. Atwell to supply us with a few sandwiches, that is. Our picnic basket is at the bottom of the river.”

Fanny grasped Amanda’s hand and the two girls marched inside. The fishing excursion with Frank had been a misstep, but Jonas would not permit one mistake to foil his plan. He couldn’t permit the entire afternoon to pass by without the remaining prospective grooms vying for Fanny’s attentions.

He’d nearly given up hope when the two girls returned with their picnic basket a short time later.

Then, as if in answer to his plight, Jonas heard the sounds of excited chatter and laughter. “The others are returning, and it would be rude if you two ran off by yourselves—a breach of etiquette.”

“They weren’t expecting me to return until this afternoon— remember? I’m supposed to be fishing with Frank.”

The note of triumph in Fanny’s voice struck a nerve, and Jonas strengthened his resolve. With a flap of his hand, he signaled the girls to sit down and walked to the far end of the veranda. He would not be manipulated by a seventeen-year-old female. Fanny Broadmoor would
not
ruin his plans for her future inheritance.

The sight that greeted him at the far end of the lawn had a more disquieting effect on him. Sophie paraded toward the house, surrounded by the entourage. They swarmed around her like bees seeking their queen. What were those young men thinking? They’d obviously forgotten the reason he’d brought them here. Jonas waited until Benjamin looked in his direction and motioned the group to hurry along.

Jonas detected the pout on Sophie’s lips. Quincy needed to gain control of his daughter before she acquired a tawdry reputation. Jonas had recently heard remarks about her behavior, and he made a mental note to speak with his brother. Though he cared little about Sophie, Jonas didn’t want any scandal tarnishing the family name.

“Where have you been?” Jonas clenched his jaw.

Sophie flicked an errant strand of hair over her shoulder. “Jefferson, George, and I have been giving our visitors a tour of the island. We’re famished and returned for some lunch and a game of croquet.”

“Good. I’m certain you’ll want Fanny to join you. She returned from her fishing excursion earlier than expected.”

The young men offered their hearty agreement while Sophie continued to pout. But as long as Jonas achieved the desired result, he cared little whether he pleased or angered Sophie. He escorted the group around the veranda while hoping Fanny hadn’t decided to disappear in his absence. The girl was proving more headstrong than he’d suspected and certainly more difficult to handle than his own daughter. Both Sophie and Fanny had lacked proper rearing. Had they received appropriate instruction early on, they would have adopted the compliant nature of a true lady. But all of that would now change—at least for Fanny. His strong hand would be directing her behavior and her future.