From the kitchen the sound of a chair scraping across the floor preceded Paul’s appearance. He stepped into the hallway, his eyes wide with surprise. “Sophie! I can’t believe you’re here. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? And where’s Elizabeth?”
“She’s at Broadmoor Island, of course. If you’re disappointed she isn’t with me, I suppose you can blame yourself for sending us away—or you can blame Fanny, if you prefer. We’ve come to shop for her wedding gown, and it would have been difficult to bring Elizabeth along when we have so much to accomplish. And I thought you would be busy with your many charitable duties.”
Fanny didn’t miss the sarcasm in Sophie’s curt response or the pain that shone in Paul’s eyes. She longed to remove herself from this awkward situation.
Amanda’s stomach tightened into a knot when she caught sight of the Home for the Friendless. She clasped a hand to her midsection, hoping to ease her anxiety. Would Blake be pleased to see her? She hoped he would regard her unexpected visit a welcome surprise.
The carriage driver assisted her down. “Please wait for me. I shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes.”
He nodded his agreement, and Amanda inhaled a deep breath as she approached the front gate. It seemed an eternity since she’d departed. How she had missed caring for the ill. Perhaps Blake would reconsider and permit her to stay. Before entering the gate, she pinched her cheeks. If she hoped to convince him that she should remain and work, she’d need to look like the picture of health. She hoped a rosy complexion would help. After a quick adjustment to her hat, she entered the front door and tiptoed down the hallway to the medical office.
She instantly smiled at the sight. Blake sat at his desk hunched over a medical book. He didn’t even know she was around. “Could you spare a few minutes for someone who isn’t ill?”
Blake snapped to attention. Instead of the bright smile she’d expected, he pinned her with an icy look that immediately wilted her resolve.
“Amanda! What are you doing here? I gave you explicit medical orders. You of all people should be willing to follow orders. Surely you realize you’re risking your recovery.”
She folded her arms across her waist. “May I say that it’s a genuine pleasure to see you, too, Dr. Carstead.”
He pushed away from the desk. “No need to mock me. I doubt you thought I’d be pleased to see you here.”
“Frankly, that’s exactly what I thought,” she said, before dropping to one of the chairs opposite his desk. “I do believe you are the man who made declarations of love while I lay dying.” She touched her index finger to her lips. “Or was that some other doctor who ventured in and sat vigil by my bedside?” She settled in her chair and smiled. How she had missed bantering with Blake. He always had an excellent riposte for her.
“No other doctors were in the infirmary during your illness, but I fear you were suffering from delusions if you believe I declared my love for you, Miss Broadmoor.”
“You’re not fooling me in the least. I know what I heard. You’re simply unwilling to declare the truth to me because you fear rejection.”
“Rejection? Whatever are you talking about? Perhaps I should take your temperature. I fear you are once again suffering from hallucinations.”
Amanda chuckled. “You fear my only interest in you is your medical knowledge and that if you declare your love, I will surely reject you.” She held up her hand to ward off his reply. “I haven’t time to sit and argue the depth of your affection for me, Doctor. I’ve come to Rochester to assist my cousin in her choice of a wedding gown.”
“Michael has returned?” Blake asked as he rounded the desk.
“No, but she received a letter. He’ll be back soon, and he’s instructed her to begin preparations for a summer wedding at Broadmoor Island. Some men are anxious to declare their love and marry,” she teased while he walked alongside her to the front door.
“And some women are far too anxious to hear a man declare his love and then move along to another. I believe some refer to it as the excitement of the conquest.”
“I believe you’re the one suffering from hallucinations, Dr. Carstead. It’s men who enjoy the conquest and then move along to another woman.” Amanda chuckled as she slipped her hands into her lace gloves.
Blake joined in her laughter, but as the front door opened, his smile was replaced by a look of utter disbelief. “Julia,” he whispered.
A striking dark-haired woman clothed in the latest fashion brushed by Amanda and pulled Blake into an embrace. “I’ve come to say yes, my darling.”
“Yes to what?” Blake attempted a backward step, but the woman held him close.
“Yes, I will marry you, dear boy.”
Marry? Amanda turned on her heel and rushed from the room.
Jonas waved his brother into the library. “I thought you would be here hours ago. It’s nearly one o’clock.”
“There was work at the Home that needed my attention, and then I decided to partake of my noonday meal. You weren’t expecting me for lunch, were you?”
“No. I was expecting you before the noonday meal. My note said I had an urgent matter to discuss with you. I thought you would realize that urgent meant you should arrive as early as possible.”
Quincy nodded. “I understand the meaning of the word, Jonas. And I came as quickly as possible. Your sense of urgency doesn’t always align with my own.”
“Oh, do sit down. We don’t have time to quibble over such nonsense.” His voice held a sharp tone, and Jonas silently reminded himself he didn’t want to alienate Quincy. “I apologize for my impatience, but I find myself involved in a tumultuous situation.”
“Does this have something to do with Sophie, Amanda, and Fanny returning to Rochester today?”
“What? I didn’t know any of them had returned home. For what purpose?” A burning sensation crept from the pit of his stomach and deposited hot bile in the back of his throat. He swallowed hard. Why had Fanny returned to Rochester? Had she discovered something and come to talk to Quincy? Worse yet, had Mr. Rosenblume summoned her back to Rochester?
“Fanny received a letter from Michael. He is returning to Broadmoor Island and has told her to make plans for a summer wedding. The girls are in Rochester to help her choose a wedding gown.” Quincy scratched his head. “At least that’s what Sophie told me. I saw the three of them only briefly. Amanda stopped by the Home to speak with Blake. I assumed Amanda and Fanny would be staying here overnight.”
“I know nothing of their plans.” Jonas could barely gather his thoughts. He needed to convey his concerns to Quincy before the girls walked in on them. But before he could regain his momentum, Quincy interrupted.
“I was surprised Victoria wasn’t with the girls. Amanda said you’d written Victoria that you planned to come for a visit next week. Your wife decided to remain at the island to ensure you kept your word.” Quincy appeared somewhat bemused. “I didn’t know you’d made arrangements for a trip to the island.”
Jonas sighed. “You don’t know my plans because we seldom see each other. If we could get back to the matter at hand, I have an issue of greater concern than a visit to Broadmoor Island or the purchase of a wedding gown.” He leaned across the desk. “I’ve been in meetings with Judge Webster regarding the estate, and we have combed through all of Mortimer’s records.”
“I’m sure that proved to be terribly boring.”
“Quite the contrary. We discovered that Mortimer had deceived me and falsified the records he presented to the court as true and factual documents.” Jonas didn’t need to force himself to appear distressed. He worried that the girls would walk in the house at any minute, and he wasn’t prepared to include Fanny in their discussion just yet.
Quincy frowned and shook his head. “How is that possible? Did you give Mortimer free rein? You’re the man who prides himself upon keeping abreast of details. How did this slip by you?”
The questions and comments were not what Jonas had expected. He’d thought Qu
incy would simply acknowledge the oversight and ask for financial details. Instead, his brother appeared unconvinced that Mortimer could have accomplished such a feat without his knowledge.
“You may recall that I have had my own business matters to handle. I didn’t have time to oversee all of the issues surrounding the estate. That’s what a lawyer is hired to do. Rest assured that if I’d been checking on Mortimer, I wouldn’t have suffered such huge losses myself. His actions have created problems for all of us.”
With the revelation that Jonas had been financially affected, his brother appeared at least partially convinced. “Exactly how did Mortimer commit these transgressions?”
“From what the judge and I have unraveled thus far, it appears Mortimer commingled the money and skimmed a healthy portion off the top for himself.”
“Why would he commingle the funds?”
“To make his crime more difficult to discover. It appears he’d been converting assets for his personal use for some time. Now that he’s dead, we’re unable to locate any of those funds. This is a financial disaster. And to think that I trusted Mortimer!”
Quincy visibly paled as he digested the unwelcome news. “This affects all of Father’s estate? All of the Broadmoor holdings?”
“I won’t be able to say with absolute certainty until we’ve completed our audit of all the records, but I assure you that Judge Webster has been assisting me with a plan to secure the estate from further losses.”
“This is tragic news.” Quincy massaged his forehead. “We ought not to tell Fanny just yet. There’s no need to upset the girl with this news when she’s in the midst of making plans for her wedding. However, I do hope that you’ve retained a reputable lawyer to help you work through this muddle.”
“I haven’t had sufficient time to decide upon a lawyer. I thought my first obligation was to talk to you.”
“I appreciate that, Jonas. But now that we’ve talked, I think you must make your priority hiring a lawyer who will protect all of our interests. If you’d like me to assist you in finding someone, I’d be happy to request references from several of my acquaintances.”
“No, no—that’s not necessary. You’re busy enough with your duties at the Home. I can make inquiries at the men’s club. I’m sure one of the businessmen there can offer an excellent recommendation.”
Quincy appeared shaken by the revelation, but at least he’d accepted Jonas’s explanation that it was Mortimer who was at fault.
“I suppose you’re correct. The men at the club could furnish an excellent recommendation.”
“You do understand none of this is my fault, don’t you? I hope I can count on your support.”
Quincy nodded. “I know you would never intentionally do anything that would cause the family to lose any of our assets. We’ll get this all worked out. Who knows, perhaps something good will come from all of this.”
Jonas arched his brows. How like his brother to think something good could come from having his inheritance stolen from beneath his nose. He wanted to tell his brother he was a fool. But he remained silent. For now, Jonas needed Quincy as his ally.
“I know you’ll manage to find the proper attorney to help us through this maze. You have my every confidence,” Quincy continued as the men walked toward the front door.
“And we’re agreed that we’ll say nothing of this to anyone else,” Jonas said.
“Yes. I would especially urge you to remain silent where Fanny is concerned. We don’t want her unduly upset.”
“You need not worry yourself in that regard. I’ll not say a word.”
12
While still in the arms of the carriage driver, Amanda glanced over her shoulder to make certain no one had observed her. She’d let out a high-pitched yelp that should have wakened the dead. But from all appearances, no one had noticed. Or if they had, they obviously weren’t concerned over her distress. In her haste to escape Blake and his beautiful visitor, she’d forgotten to lift her skirts and had snagged her hem on the toe of her shoe. Had the carriage driver not been standing nearby, she would have been thrown headlong into the front wheel of his cab.
After righting herself, she showered the driver with profuse thanks. Unfortunately she’d likely overdone it, for the poor man’s face had turned the shade of a ripe tomato by the time he closed the carriage door. Once they were on their way, Amanda leaned forward and lifted the edge of her skirt to examine the stitching. She hadn’t torn the fabric, but the hem would require repair before she went shopping with her cousins. Otherwise she would likely once again become tangled in the hem and end up flat on the sidewalk before day’s end. A disgusted sigh escaped her lips as she dropped her skirt back into place. What had begun as an enjoyable few minutes of banter with Blake had ended in disaster.
She stared out the window and tried to convince herself she’d gone to the Home to check on the progress of ailing patients. In truth, she’d wanted to know how Blake was faring without her. She had hoped Blake would tell her he’d been rendered useless without her and beg her to remain at his side. Before going to bed last night, she’d played the scene over and over in her mind. But instead of being implored to stay, Amanda had been forced to witness a strange woman rushing into Blake’s arms and accepting his marriage proposal. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. She batted her lashes, but to no avail. The tears trickled down her cheeks. No wonder Blake had disavowed he’d ever proclaimed his love for her. He was engaged to marry. What a fool she’d made of herself!
When they arrived at the small house belonging to Paul and Sophie, the driver jumped down and opened the door. Amanda withdrew a coin from her reticule. “For your excellent service,” she said, placing the coin in his hand.
He tipped his hat. “Thank you and a good day to you, ma’am.”
“I don’t think it can get any worse,” Amanda muttered, holding her skirts high. She climbed the front steps to Sophie’s house and tapped on the door.
Within moments Sophie opened the front door. “What has happened? You look like a thundercloud about to burst.”
“I’m not the thundercloud, but you’re right about one thing. A dark cloud arrived in Rochester, and it has dumped a bucketful of cold water on my entire future.” Amanda brushed past Sophie and strode into the parlor while still holding her skirt above her ankles.
“Was that Amanda I heard?” Fanny brightened when she entered the room. “I’m so pleased you’ve returned. We do need to be on our way.”
“We can’t go anywhere until I st-stitch my . . .” She waved the hem of her skirt in the air and broke into heaving sobs.
Amanda sat down and both Fanny and Sophie rushed forward. The two of them surrounded Amanda, and Fanny gathered her into a warm embrace. “Do tell us what has happened. Did you fall and injure yourself?”
“N-n-no,” she sniffled. “It’s B-b-blake.” She accepted the handkerchief Sophie offered and wiped her eyes.
“Take a deep breath and then tell us,” Fanny instructed.
After several restorative breaths, Amanda gave an affirming nod. “I think I’m better now.” In between occasional sniffles, she related the unexpected and harrowing events. “Then, as I rushed down the path and through the gate, I caught my hem on the toe of my shoe and lost my balance.”
Sophie straightened her shoulders. “Exactly who is this Julia woman?”
“I’ve told you everything I know. Blake has never mentioned her to me, but from all appearances they are very well acquainted.”
Sophie’s eyebrows pinched together in a frown. “Who does this Julia think she is, coming to Rochester and interfering with the man you want to marry? I’ve half a mind to go over there and have a long talk with her. I could set matters aright in no time.”
“Sophie Medford, you’ll do no such thing! Remember, you’re a lady.” Fanny tapped Amanda on the arm. “When did you decide you wanted to marry Dr. Carstead? The last I recall hearing, you said you wanted only to become a doctor and that he wa
s too old for you.”
“I never said he was too old.” How could Fanny say such a thing? Amanda had always considered Blake quite perfect—his age, at least—if not his actions. “He is less than ten years my senior.”
“If he’s not ten years older, then he’s nine and three-quarters,” Fanny replied. “I care little about his age. It is you who took issue with his age when he first arrived.”
“I don’t recall any such thing. Sophie, do you remember me ever saying Dr. Carstead was too old for me to consider a suitor?”
Sophie shrugged. “As I recall, you’ve never wanted a suitor, no matter his age.”
Amanda sighed. Their conversation was hardly relevant. It seemed Blake Carstead was a fraud. He’d never so much as hinted that he already had plans to marry. She sniffled and wiped her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Amanda. Instead of showing you proper sympathy, I’ve been busy asking questions.” Fanny grasped Amanda’s hand. “Please forgive me for my insensitivity. I think we should put aside today’s shopping expedition and wait until tomorrow. The two of us should take our bags and get settled at your house, Amanda.”
“I want to come along, too,” Sophie put in.
Amanda blinked away her tears and glanced toward the kitchen. “What about Paul? Don’t you want to remain here with him?”
“He’s not very happy with me,” Sophie whispered.
“All the more reason you should stay,” Amanda replied. “If Paul must return to work later, you can come and join us at the house. We promise that we’ll not do anything fun without you.”
“I doubt the two of you would ever do anything fun or exciting if you didn’t have me to urge you along.” Sophie grinned. “I suppose you’re correct. I’d best stay here for a while.”
Fanny leaned close to Sophie’s ear. “See what you can do to resolve your difficulties with Paul.”
Sophie turned her gaze toward the staircase. “I will.”
A sense of relief washed over Fanny once they arrived at Broadmoor Mansion and the butler informed them the master of the house had departed only a few minutes earlier. “A shame that you missed him, for he’ll likely be out the remainder of the afternoon.”
A Surrendered Heart Page 13
