“Oh no, thank you. We have rooms waiting for us in Eugene.”
Millie’s smile disappeared. “Fine. Let me get your things.” She walked to the pegs where Dan’s hat and Anne’s jacket hung.
David was still gaping at Anne. “I certainly didn’t expect to inherit anything from your father.”
Anne’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t?”
“Well, no. Why should I?”
“As I explained earlier, Uncle John is also deceased. He had no heirs.”
“That was mighty nice of him, but how come you don’t get it all?”
Anne drew in a deep breath but seemed unable to speak.
Millie came over and held out Dan’s hat. Turning to Anne, she offered the velvet jacket of her habit. “Did your pa name David in his will and cut you out or what?”
Anne made a strangled sound.
“Nothing like that, I assure you,” Dan said, taking Anne’s jacket. He held it for her, determined to remove her from the house as swiftly as possible. “We promised our friends we’d get back before night, so we must go.”
“Well, we’ll be looking for you in the morning.” Millie’s voice had taken on a hard edge.
“Yeah, bring them papers with you. Address and such.” David walked to the door with them and opened it.
Dusk had fallen over the valley. Dan led Anne to the horses and tightened Bailey’s saddle cinch. As he untied the horse and turned the gelding toward Anne, her uncle followed them down the steps and grasped Anne’s sleeve.
“There’s more to this than you’re saying, gal.”
“Let go of me.”
Anne’s icy voice spurred Dan to action. He stepped up beside her and glared at her uncle. “Stand back, Stone. We’ll bring everything necessary in the morning.”
David glowered at him. “Make sure you do.”
They cantered out of the dooryard and northward toward Eugene. Neither spoke until they’d gone nearly a mile. Anne slowed Bailey, and Dan let Star drop into a trot, too.
“Dan, I must apologize to you.”
“Whatever for?” he asked. “Seems to me your uncle and aunt are the ones who need to apologize.”
“I should have told you everything before we set out for this place. I deeply regret not doing so.”
Dan’s face softened. “Miss Anne, you have no obligation to me whatsoever.”
She turned forward for a moment while she tried to collect herself. Her face burned. “That may have been true until today, but I owe you much for what you did in there.”
Dan rode in silence for a moment, then said, “I’m glad I was along.”
“So am I!” She looked at him in the twilight. “Daniel Adams, I can’t imagine what would have become of me if I hadn’t had you to lean on. At first, I thought it was just me. I was disappointed that my uncle wasn’t all I’d expected him to be. Not just his appearance—though I’d imagined him to be taller, fairer, and more…shall we say, more fit? And his eyes. In the portraits we have of him, his eyes are quite blue.”
“You might say they were blue,” Dan said pensively. “Sort of grayish blue.”
“Yes. Not at all the vivid blue in the paintings. I told myself, that is the painter’s fancy. But I knew it wasn’t. You see, my father’s eyes were blue, and Uncle John’s as well. At Stoneford there’s a portrait of the three brothers. They sat for it when David was fourteen. And his eyes are the same shade as Father’s and John’s.”
“Your eyes are brown,” Dan pointed out.
“True. They say I favor my mother, which is a great compliment. Her hair was a rich brunette, and her eyes brown.” Anne sighed. Now was not the time to get sidetracked in her memories. “But this man! He claims to be my uncle, but he can’t be. His manner is vulgar, and his speech—what can I say? No Englishman of gentle birth would so forsake the language. It’s not as though he hiked about the wilderness with trappers for twenty years. He ran a respectable business in St. Louis and then in Oregon City. People recalled his British accent.”
Dan nodded soberly. “You believe this fellow is an impostor.”
“Yes.” Relieved to have said it, Anne huffed out a deep breath. “I see no other explanation. Add to that the fact that he knew nothing of the family’s matters. He didn’t ask after any family members, and he didn’t seem to know the first thing about…well, about anything I hadn’t put in my letter or mentioned after we arrived.”
“I see what you mean. And that woman—she’s a sly one.”
“Isn’t she?” Anne shuddered. “I can’t bear to think of her presiding at Stoneford.”
“This…Stoneford,” Dan said. “That’s your home in England?”
“Yes.” She looked down at her hands, grasping Bailey’s reins. The well-trained horse kept up his trot without urging from her. She’d given no thought to guiding him for the last mile. “Dan, I should have explained my family’s situation to you. But you see, Elise and I had agreed before we left New York that it was best to keep it quiet. Other people didn’t look at me the same way if they knew….”
“It’s all right,” Dan said. “I believe in privacy.”
“Yes, and I appreciate that. This wasn’t really a secret, but it seemed more effective not to shout it about—sort of like your brother’s fiancée. I’m sure if Hector had felt anyone needed to know, he’d have told them.”
“Certainly he would.”
Anne nodded. “So I’m telling you. My uncle David—whether he is this man or not—and I highly doubt that he is—” She hesitated, knowing their relationship would change forever when she uttered her next few words.
“Yes?” Dan said gently.
“He inherits everything—Stoneford and all its lands, the family fortune, and the title.”
“Title?”
Dan’s frown for some reason tugged at her heart like an infant’s cry. He was so innocent, so guileless.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to say it. “My father was the earl of Stoneford. The title and the estate are passed down to male heirs only under British law. I, being a female, do not inherit.”
“I…see.”
Darkness had cloaked them so that Anne could still see his face, but indistinctly. What was he thinking?
“I had no brothers,” she added.
“So your father’s brothers are next in line.”
“Exactly. Uncle John was next. Unfortunately, he died in battle unmarried. Uncle David had no way of knowing that. But it’s up to him now, him and his sons—if he has any.” She thought of the man they’d just left at the little farmhouse and shivered again.
“If that man is your uncle, I’ll eat my hat,” Dan said.
She smiled at that. “Thank you! For that and so much else you’ve done today.”
“I could see how uncomfortable you were, and I knew something wasn’t right. At first I wondered how you could have such a crude relative. It didn’t take me long to see that you wondered the same thing and were having doubts about coming here.”
Anne nodded. “That’s when I decided not to tell him about the earldom or give him details about how to claim his inheritance. I wish I hadn’t said a word about it, but I had, so it’s too late. I’ll have to go back tomorrow.”
“We’ll tell Rob everything. He’ll go with us.”
“Yes.” That thought buoyed her. “He’s a very smart man, and he reads people well. I’ve another card to play, too.”
“Oh?” Dan asked.
“You know I had some dealings with the marshal in Oregon City.”
“Yes. That fellow Peterson was trying to hunt down your uncle. I’m beginning to understand why.”
“My uncle—my real uncle, I should say—is worth a lot of money to some people. What worries me most is that to some he’s worth more dead than alive.”
Dan pulled back on Star’s reins. Both horses stopped, and Dan peered at her in the darkness. “Is there another brother?”
“No. But there is a cousin. He can’t inhe
rit unless David is proven dead.”
Dan let out a deep sigh. “Now it makes sense. Anne, I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.”
He nudged his horse closer to hers. “We’d best hurry back to Eugene.”
“I agree. As I was about to tell you, the marshal has a deputy there. Perhaps he would come out here with us and Rob tomorrow. If we act cleverly, I’m sure we can expose this charlatan.”
“Yes, but we need to make sure before we leave town tomorrow that the person who owns this farm is really your uncle. There could be two David Stones.”
“Yes, there is that.”
“Well, let’s get a move on. I don’t like to have you out here in the open like this, now that I know your story.”
Anne chuckled. “I’m in no danger. And I have a rather large, armed escort along.”
“Well thank you, ma’am,” Dan said, “but I disagree. You are the messenger who wants to alert your uncle to his new position and wealth. Remember Peterson? There may be someone else out there who would like you to give up the search.”
CHAPTER 4
The boarders had long since eaten their supper when Anne and Daniel rode into Eugene, but the landlady had graciously set out coffee, crackers, cheese, and cookies for them and the Whistlers in her parlor. Dulcie’s reaction to Anne’s story was as Dan would have expected—she gathered Anne to her bosom and assured her that Rob would get to the bottom of things. Dan fully anticipated Rob to continue wearing his captain’s persona, willing to take charge and face down the imposter.
Rob, however, surprised him by going out immediately to fetch the deputy marshal. While he was gone, Dulcie told them of how they’d at last untangled themselves from the pioneer families. Rob had spent a good half hour at the post office, talking to Eugene Skinner, the postmaster and founder of the city. One of their numerous topics had been where Rob could locate the deputy marshal for Miss Stone, so that she could check in with him as Marshal Nesmith had instructed her in Oregon City.
Rob returned with “Bank” Raynor in tow. The deputy stood only a couple of inches taller than Anne, and thin as a sapling, but his face—the part that showed above his gray-streaked beard—looked like a tanned hide. As he entered the parlor, he snatched off a disreputable-looking felt hat. He wore tall boots over whipcord breeches. A long hunting shirt hung down below his buckskin jacket. A sheathed hunting knife was mounted on his rawhide belt, and he wore a long-barreled pistol strapped to his side. Dan decided that Raynor was the man to have beside him if he ever came face-to-face with a grizzly.
After the introductions, Rob set a chair for the deputy strategically near the food, the fire, and Anne. It seemed prudent to Dan to keep in the background, so he eased around to the corner, where he leaned against the wall and listened to the conversation, but contributed only when asked a question.
Patiently, Anne told her story again, from the death of the earl back in England to the strange couple they’d found living at the farm south of Eugene City.
When she’d finished, Bank Raynor sat in silence for a long minute, gazing at her face. He’d downed a great quantity of cheese, at least half-a-dozen cookies, and two cups of coffee. Dan wondered if he was feeling sluggish, lulled by the warmth of the fire and Anne’s musical voice.
“So, what should I call you?” he asked at last. “Are you ‘your ladyship,’ or ‘countess,’ or what?”
Anne smiled at him. “Miss Stone is fine, sir.”
“And you can call me Bank.”
“All right.”
Bank moved slightly, making the smallest gesture with his coffee cup, and Dulcie jumped to refill it.
“So, Miss Stone, you have several indications that the man who claims to be your uncle is not really your uncle.”
“That’s right,” Anne said.
“Is there any possibility that this is all a misunderstanding—that this is another individual with the same name? Stone is not that uncommon.”
“I thought of that.” Anne clasped her hands on her knees and leaned toward the deputy. Her earnest, beautiful face couldn’t help but win him over, Dan thought. “If it were a mistake, surely he would have protested when he read my letter, saying I had arrived from England. Wouldn’t he have written back asking questions? Suppose this other David Stone coincidentally had a niece in England, too. Wouldn’t he balk when I told him his two brothers had died? I don’t know as I mentioned my father’s given name, Richard, to him, but I surely told him about my uncle John’s death. I also spoke of my mother, and I mentioned a longtime family servant by name. Why didn’t he raise questions?”
Bank shot a glance into the corner, surprising Dan. He’d almost felt invisible. As the deputy addressed him, he straightened his shoulders.
“You agree with that, Adams?”
“Yes, sir. Miss Anne mentioned several things that would cause a complete stranger—one with any integrity, that is—to say, ‘Hold on, miss, you must have made a mistake.’ But this fellow never did that. And he kept trying to draw more information out of her.”
Anne nodded. “His companion, too. Millie. She seemed especially anxious to learn more about my family and my father’s will. I wish I’d never mentioned that, but on our arrival I was so confused I wasn’t sure how to proceed. As it was, I at least had the presence of mind not to give them any details about the estate or Uncle David’s inheritance. But I did let fall that an inheritance from my father would come to him. I shouldn’t have done that, but there it is. I was still sorting the facts and realizing that this man knew nothing about how English inheritance law works.”
Bank nodded, stroking his beard. “And you first made contact with this man when?”
“Last week. I wrote a brief letter from Corvallis as soon as we arrived overland.”
“Right. But you didn’t tell him in the letter about the earl dying or his inheritance.”
“No, sir,” Anne replied. “I wanted to break it to him in person. And so far as I know, he still doesn’t realize that my father was an earl.”
Dan folded his arms and leaned back into the corner again. He was beat, and Anne had dark shadows beneath her expressive brown eyes. He hadn’t taken the time yet to work out the implications of all he’d learned that afternoon. The woman he loved was a true aristocrat. He’d always known Anne was quality, but the daughter of an earl! How could he ever have imagined she might accept his suit? He shook his head. He and Hector would have a good laugh someday over his audacity, but right now his heart ached too painfully for him to see it as humorous. Maybe one day, Uncle Dan would take his brother’s kiddies on his knees when they asked him why he was still a bachelor and tell them the tale of “The Lady and the Farmer.”
Rob set his coffee cup on the side table. “Sure wish I’d known about this before I met Mr. Skinner yesterday. He seemed to know who Mr. Stone was and think well of him. Said he last came in for his mail a few weeks ago.” He shrugged. “Miss Anne, maybe there’s a way you could test this fellow to find out for sure how much he knows.”
Bank nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. Trap him somehow into showing he’s no kin to you.”
Anne opened her handbag and reached into it. “I agree. I’d like to show you the portrait I have of Uncle David. I’ve shown it to Mr. Whistler before, but I don’t believe Mrs. Whistler or Mr. Adams has seen it.” She took out the framed miniature she’d carried from England to Oregon, opened the case, and passed it to Bank. “He was the youngest of the three brothers. Of course I don’t personally remember him, since he left England while I was a baby, but I’m told this is a good likeness of him at the age of twenty—that is, about twenty years ago.”
Bank studied the picture and handed it to Dulcie.
“Oh, he’s a gorgeous boy,” Dulcie said. “Those eyes! And lashes as long as a girl’s.” She passed the miniature to Daniel.
He looked down at it. The blond young man in the portrait was indeed handsome, with wavy locks and vivid blue eyes. Any young woman w
ould swoon over him. Dan glanced over at Anne and met her gaze. “He’s as unlike the man we met today as a bluebird from a blue jay.”
Anne smiled. “Yes. Alike in a few general characteristics, but very different. I might have accepted that he’d gained weight and coarsened his looks through drink and poor food, but his manner of speech and gaps in knowledge clinched it for me. He’s not my uncle.”
Dan passed the portrait back to her and resumed his place in the corner.
“Well, an obvious way to trick him would be to ask if he remembers something and make the details wrong,” Rob said. “If he agrees with you, he’s lying.”
Anne nodded. “Perhaps we can plan such a snare.” She drew two envelopes from her handbag. “I also have the last letter my father received from him ten years ago. It’s quite worn and tattered, I fear, but I ask you to put it next to this brief note I received in Corvallis and tell me whether the same person could possibly have written the two.”
Bank carefully extracted the first letter and glanced at the flowing script that went on for two full pages.
“Is that the same one that was stolen from your luggage on the wagon train?” Rob asked.
“Yes, and I’m extremely thankful that you and the other men on the train were able to recover it for me.”
Bank opened the second letter and grunted. After a moment, he held the two envelopes side by side. “Interesting. Not only are these addressed in different hands, but I submit that the person who addressed this second one is not the person who wrote the note inside it.”
“I agree with you again,” Anne said with a smile. “My guess is that David—or whatever his name really is—wrote the note, and Millie addressed it for him.”
Bank passed the two letters to Dan, and he compared the handwriting, especially that on the two envelopes. “Something tells me that reading and writing are not his long suit.”
“No. But my uncle David was an avid reader. In that letter to my father, he mentioned two books he had recently read.” Anne placed the miniature back in her purse. “I should have seen it earlier. In fact, I did see it—or at least I saw clues that made me uneasy. But I didn’t want to believe I was being deceived. I’ve looked so long and hard for him that I wanted it to be true. I wanted my search to have finally come to an end.”
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 36
