“And why did I not know of your return?”
“We wanted it to be a surprise. Our way of adding to the holiday celebration. We haven’t even been home to Rochester yet. We came directly to Clayton, where Mr. Atwell met us at the train station and brought us directly here. He’d been sworn to secrecy.”
Amanda grasped his arm. “Well, having you and George home has certainly added pleasure to my holiday. Otherwise I would find this day totally gloomy.”
“What? When you’re here with a man who adores you and has asked for your hand?” He nodded toward a clump of trees not far away. “The shade of those trees would be preferable to standing out here in the sun.” He grinned. “I don’t have the protection of a parasol.”
After quickly scanning the area and seeing no sign of Ellert, Amanda agreed. “Based upon your earlier remark, I assume you’ve learned that Father is headed for financial ruin. At least that’s what he and Mother have told me.”
“Frankly, George and I had knowledge of the difficulties before we sailed. Father had us look into some possible investments overseas, but once we’d located a few high-yielding prospects, he couldn’t raise sufficient capital.” They located an unoccupied bench, which Jefferson swiped with his handkerchief. “I don’t want to see that lovely dress ruined.”
She stared at him for a moment, remembering the mischievous young brother who had taken pleasure in teasing her throughout the years. When had he evolved into this considerate young man their father now trusted for investment advice? How had she missed the transformation?
Jefferson sat down beside her and peered into the distance. “Of course we didn’t realize the depth of Father’s difficulty.” He covered her hand with his own. “Father speaks highly of this man you are to marry. I hope he will prove to be deserving of you.” He smiled and the dimple in his left cheek appeared.
She reached up and touched the small indention. “There’s that dimple I love,” she said.
He laughed. “As I recall, you always took great pleasure in teasing me because of that dimple. Now tell me about this man of yours. Mother says we’ve never met him—that he lived in Rochester some years ago.”
“Many years ago would be a more accurate statement. His first wife is deceased and—”
“Amanda! I thought we agreed you would remain near the race track? And who is this?” Ellert asked, focusing upon her brother.
Jefferson stood and extended his hand. “I am Jefferson Broadmoor, Amanda’s brother. And you are?”
Amanda stood up and grasped Jefferson’s arm. “This is Ellert Jackson. The man to whom Father has pledged me in marriage.”
Jefferson let out a snort. “Do cease your teasing, Amanda.”
“I do not consider our betrothal a matter of jest, Mr. Broad-moor. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to why you find our engagement so astonishing.”
The gleam in Jefferson’s eyes faded, and his smile disappeared. “Forgive me, Mr. Jackson. I merely expected Amanda’s suitor would be a man who was not so, so . . . A man closer to her own age.”
“I believe Amanda is convinced the advantages of marrying a mature man far outweigh any benefit of marriage to someone her own age. Isn’t that correct, my dear?” Ellert turned sideways and edged between Amanda and her brother. “Nice to meet you, Jefferson. If you’ll excuse us, we’re going over to the races.”
“I’m sure Jefferson would be pleased to join us,” Amanda said.
“On the contrary, my dear. I imagine your brother would be much more comfortable with his young friends—boys with whom he has more in common.” Ellert grasped her elbow with a force that caused her to flinch and propelled her forward. “Do come along. We don’t want to miss the first race.”
In spite of Ellert’s remark, Amanda hoped her beseeching look would persuade Jefferson to join them. But as they walked away, her brother remained near the bench, staring at them. While she hastened to keep pace with Ellert, she glanced over her shoulder at Jefferson. They locked gazes, and he mouthed the word later. Her spirits soared. He understood she needed him.
The remainder of the afternoon passed in a blur. The races, the polo matches, games of horseshoes and lawn tennis. Ellert kept her close by his side but refused to participate in any of the fun. “Games are for children,” he’d said, and she didn’t argue. Since losing wagers on the races earlier in the afternoon, he’d become a bit ill-tempered. She supposed it was to be expected, but she didn’t want to provoke him further. He thwarted her efforts to visit with friends or family at every turn. Even during the picnic supper, he’d arranged for them to maintain a distance, insisting to her mother that they needed time to become better acquainted without family interference. He gained her mother’s approval with honey-laced words and an engaging smile.
Amanda supposed he was right. They didn’t know each other at all, and it would benefit their arrangement to spend time together. Still, there was a side of Ellert Jackson that Amanda couldn’t quite explain or understand. It was as if just beneath the exterior of his charm and wit, a monster was waiting to be unleashed.
Ellert maintained his hold on her arm as the musicians began to play for the first dance of the evening. Jefferson was working his way through the crowd, but before he could approach, Ellert insisted they take to the dance floor.
The second dance had begun when Jefferson tapped Ellert on the shoulder. “I’d like to cut in, Mr. Jackson.” Ellert frowned as he stepped back and handed her over to Jefferson.
“I believe I’ve angered him,” Jefferson said, grasping her around the waist.
“I’m confident he will recover,” Amanda said with a grin.
The dance ended all too soon, and before she knew it, Ellert reappeared to claim her. “I wonder if you wouldn’t enjoy a walk with me. I would like very much to discuss our plans.”
Amanda thought to reply in the negative but changed her mind. Given all that had happened—the things her father had done to Fanny and others in the family, she really needed to do her best to make this work. “Of course.”
Leaving the dance behind, Ellert led Amanda down to the river walk.
“I’ve decided that we will be married immediately.”
His words startled Amanda. She looked at him and found his fixed expression betrayed determination. “But that’s impossible. The family is in the midst of making arrangements for Fanny’s wedding, and that must come first.”
His eyes shone with lust. “Unless her wedding is to take place in the immediate future, I’ll not wait. I have my needs and desires, and I plan to have them met—by you.”
Fanny spread a blanket a short distance from where Paul and Sophie had settled. Under most circumstances she would have joined them, but they’d been in a state of disagreement for most of the evening. Paul had protested when he discovered Elizabeth had returned to Broadmoor Island with her nanny. Although Sophie explained that the damp night air would have worsened the baby’s case of the sniffles, Paul dismissed the explanation as an excuse for his wife to be free of any responsibility. Their voices drifted across the short expanse, and Fanny wanted to chide them for their behavior. Neither was completely correct.
The band struck up a lively march, and the young children paraded across the grass, keeping time to the music. When Paul stood and started wending his way through the young marchers, Sophie scooted over to Fanny’s blanket.
“Can you believe the way he’s acting?” Sophie asked.
“I think I can.”
“What? You’re taking his side?” Anger flashed in Sophie’s dark eyes. “You know the night air doesn’t agree with Elizabeth.”
“I’m not taking sides. I think you are both wrong. Paul is jealous because you’ve been attracting a lot of interest from the single men. He believes you’ve sent Elizabeth back home so that you will have total freedom to do as you please without the hindrance of a baby or her nanny. And you, dear Cousin, still want to punish him for sending you to Broadmoor Island when you wanted to remain i
n Rochester.”
Sophie peeked from beneath the brim of her straw hat. “When did you become so wise?”
“I’m not wise. I can be objective because I’m not involved. I do think you’re both squandering time that could be put to better use.” Fanny looked toward the sun setting on the distant horizon. An edge of the orange globe touched the water and sent rays of light shimmering across the dark ripples. “You love each other. Why not replace your childish anger with joy and thankfulness that you have the pleasure of his company? I’m sure you’ll find that Paul will respond with the same spirit.”
Sophie appeared lost in thoughtful consideration for several moments. “You’re right,” she finally said, grinning. “But it’s difficult to be the first to extend the olive branch, don’t you think?”
“Yes, but it appears Paul is trying, too.”
Sophie followed Fanny’s gaze across the lawn, where she spotted Paul returning with two tall glasses of lemonade. “Thank you,” Sophie whispered as she brushed a quick kiss against Fanny’s cheek. “Why don’t you move your blanket and sit with us. You look far too lonely over here by yourself.”
“I’m quite content. You need to be alone with Paul. I think Amanda may join me a little later.”
Sophie wrinkled her nose. “If she can get away from Mr. Jackson. I can’t imagine why she accepted his invitation to escort her.”
“I’m uncertain, as well, but there isn’t enough time for us to discuss her reasons right now. You’d better return to your spot or Paul will think you’ve deserted him.”
As the sky began to darken, Fanny leaned against the trunk of a giant pine tree and waited for the first explosion of color in the sky. How she longed for Michael’s return. He’d promised a June return, but June had now turned to July. Each morning she and Mrs. Atwell prayed for Michael’s safe and speedy return. And when their spirits waned, they did their best to encourage each other. Now that the last day of June had passed, keeping faith that Michael would soon return proved increasingly difficult. This was the Fourth of July celebration that she and Michael should be attending together—at least that had been Fanny’s dream. Now she simply longed to know he would return before summer’s end.
Seeing the many couples happily settled on the blankets that dotted the grass did little to keep her jealousy in check. “Be happy for them,” she muttered in an effort to tamp down her feelings of envy. The first explosion boomed overhead, and a proliferation of color streaked the sky in a showy display. The crowd responded with thunderous applause and appreciative oohs and ahs.
When the second blast exploded and the overhead illumination offered a silhouette of Paul and Sophie locked in a warm embrace, she could feel her resolve begin to vanish. “Why hasn’t he returned? I’m trying to trust, but . . .” Words failed her. She did want to believe all would be well. But how did one continue to cling to hope in spite of disappointment?
“May I join you?”
The grass had muffled the sound of approaching footsteps, and Fanny twisted around. She jumped to her feet, unable to believe her eyes. “Michael!” She was certain her squeal of delight could be heard above the sound of the fireworks, but she didn’t care in the least. “When did you arrive? Let me look at you! Have you been back to the island yet? Are you well? I can’t believe it’s you!” She clasped his face between her hands to assure herself he was truly standing before her.
He pulled her into a warm embrace and tipped her chin with his finger. “Before I have the strength to answer all of those questions, I believe I need a kiss.” He claimed her lips with a long and passionate kiss that set her heart racing. “I love you, Fanny, and I promise I’ll never leave you again. Tell me that the wedding plans have been made and we’ll be married soon.”
“We can be married in only a few days from now.” She breathed his name and returned his kiss with reckless abandon.
16
Wednesday, July 5, 1899
After removing a cigar from the humidor, Jonas settled into the leather chair situated behind the desk in the library of Broad-moor Castle. He was never quite comfortable at this desk—probably because the chair had been a better fit for his father’s lanky frame. Jonas was required to stuff his portly figure into the chair at an angle. “Most uncomfortable chair in the house,” he mumbled while he clipped the end from his cigar. Not a Cuban cigar, but a cheaper, less aromatic replacement.
Michael’s return during yesterday’s Fourth of July celebration had caught Jonas unaware. He first thought Fanny had withheld information regarding the young man’s return, but apparently she had been as surprised as the rest of the family. Now Jonas was eager to discover the profitability of Michael’s sojourn to the Yukon. He’d set up an appointment to meet with Michael at one o’clock, and the clock had struck the hour several minutes earlier. Jonas puffed on his cigar, growing more annoyed as each minute ticked by. Who did Michael Atwell think he was to exhibit such disrespect? His time in the North had apparently numbed his good manners.
When a knock sounded at the library door, Jonas first looked at the clock before calling, “Come in.” The moment the door cracked open, Jonas leaned across the desk. “You’re late, Michael.”
“Yes, I know. Fanny and I were discussing our wedding plans.”
Jonas couldn’t believe his ears. No apology or request to be forgiven for his breach of etiquette? Not only had Michael forgotten his manners, he’d also forgotten his place in this household. “I’m accustomed to servants following orders.”
Michael met his gaze with an air of indifference. “So you are, but I am no longer your servant, Mr. Broadmoor. I have been providing for myself since my departure to the Klondike.”
“Technically that’s correct. But let’s don’t forget that your parents are dependent upon me for their positions in my household.” The comment didn’t have the desired effect, for the young man had developed an air of confidence he’d lacked prior to his departure. “Sit down, Michael. We need to talk.” Jonas took a long draw on the cigar. “I’m sure you recall we had an agreement before you departed.”
“How could I forget.”
The statement dripped with sarcasm, and Jonas arched his brows. Michael had best watch his tongue or he’d find himself off the island and out of Fanny’s life before nightfall. “Since you’ve already made yourself comfortable, why don’t you tell me about your travels. I’m anxious to learn of your success—or failure, whichever the case may be.”
“I suppose you could say I experienced some of both. I was blessed with the friendship of two men and joined with them in prospecting. I think Zeb and Sherman were the greatest blessing I received. Their friendship and what I learned from them are more valuable than the gold we discovered.”
Jonas perked to attention. “What could be more valuable than gold? What is it they told you about? If you’ve come upon some other discovery, you must permit me the opportunity to invest.”
Michael laughed and shook his head. “What they taught me is free, Mr. Broadmoor. While I was with them, I experienced the love that Jesus taught about. They shared with me as though I were their brother, and they willingly made me a partner in their claim. Best of all, they taught me what it means to be a true follower of Christ.”
Jonas pushed away from the desk and flicked his ashes into the fireplace. “I don’t want a Bible lesson, boy. I want an accounting of your finances. We had an agreement that if you attained enough wealth that I could be certain you weren’t after Fanny’s inheritance, I’d permit the two of you to wed.”
“You can demand whatever you wish, but Fanny and I intend to be married in three days. I doubt I could ever offer an accounting that would convince you Fanny’s wealth isn’t of importance to me.”
Jonas narrowed his eyes, convinced Michael was toying with him. The younger man didn’t want to divulge the depth of his fortune, or lack thereof, and Jonas wasn’t enjoying their game of cat and mouse. “You owe me repayment of the funds that I advanced for your jou
rney. Are you able to pay me?”
Michael withdrew a leather pouch from his pocket and dropped it in front of Jonas. “I believe this will cover my obligation to you.”
“There’s interest due on the loan.”
Michael nodded. “If you look inside, you’ll find that your interest has been included with my payment.”
Jonas picked up the bag and arched his brows. He’d expected the bag to be heavy with gold nuggets. Instead, it felt empty. He tossed the bag at Michael. “Is this a joke?”
With a swipe of his hand, Michael grabbed the bag and yanked open the top. He withdrew a bank draft and pushed it across the desk to Jonas. “I believe a bank draft is still considered negotiable tender.”
Jonas lifted the draft and examined the amount. “This will do, but there’s still the issue of how well you fared financially while you were gone. You have a responsibility to convince me, as Fanny’s guardian, that you can care for her in a proper fashion.”
“I’m not required to convince you of anything, Mr. Broad-moor. You’re no longer Fanny’s legal guardian, and we intend to be married—with or without your blessing.”
“Don’t you raise your voice at me, Michael! You’re nothing but—”
“Jonas! What is going on in here?” Victoria pushed open the library door and stepped inside. “I could hear the two of you the moment I entered the hallway.” She continued to stare at him. “Well? What seems to be the problem?”
“Michael is unwilling or unable to fulfill an agreement we made before he went to the Yukon. Therefore, I’ve told him it will be impossible for him to marry Fanny.”
“Oh, pshaw! Cease your nonsense, Jonas. Fanny and Michael will be married on Saturday. The plans are made.” She smiled at Michael. “You and Fanny have our blessing, Michael. We will be pleased to welcome you into the family.” She patted the young man’s hand. “Now, if you will excuse us, I need to speak with my husband privately for a few moments.”
A Surrendered Heart Page 18
