A Daughter's Inheritance

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A Daughter's Inheritance Page 7

by Judith Miller


  The plan delighted Fanny, but she doubted whether Marvin, the butler, would be inclined to help them. The man was as rigid as the bristles on a brand-new scrub brush. “I like your plan, but what if Marvin won’t help? We could be the ones who end up doused in whitewash.”

  “Don’t fret. Marvin will help us. Now let’s get dressed and go tell Henry to make certain he has plenty of that whitewash left over for us.”

  The entire day had been filled with the excitement evoked by a mixture of fear and anticipation. As Amanda had predicted, Marvin agreed to lend his help and meet them in the kitchen at exactly ten o’clock. Thankfully Aunt Victoria and Uncle Jonas had retired to their rooms earlier in the evening. Now that the designated hour had arrived, the girls silently picked their way down the back stairs. Fanny struggled to stifle the laughter bubbling deep in her throat. She clung to Amanda’s hand until they finally reached the kitchen, where Marvin stood at the ready.

  “Well, ladies, are you prepared for this bit of folly?” His shoulders were stretched into formal alignment as he addressed them. “Not rethinking your decision, are you?”

  The girls shook their heads in unison. Amanda pointed to the bucket of whitewash. “My brothers deserve to receive their comeuppance. Frightening small children isn’t humorous in the least. The next time they consider such a plan, I believe they’ll remember what happened to them tonight.”

  Marvin nodded and pulled a ladder near the back door. “As you wish, Miss Amanda. Once I’ve secured the ropes and this board to the transom, you can hand me the bucket.” The two girls craned their necks and watched as Marvin fitted a board between the knotted sling he’d created with the ropes and secured them above the doorway. He stepped down and tested the device several times before making his final ascent on the ladder. After retrieving the bucket from Amanda, he placed the pail of whitewash strategically atop the board.

  After descending the ladder, he tipped his head back for one final look and then gave a firm nod. “I believe that will serve your purpose quite nicely, miss.”

  Amanda agreed. “Now all we must do is wait.”

  “Which is sometimes the most difficult thing of all,” Marvin said. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ll turn in for the night and permit you ladies to maintain your watch.”

  “Yes, of course,” Amanda said. “And thank you for your help, Marvin. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Marvin grinned. “Let’s make that our little secret, shall we? I wouldn’t want to incur the wrath of your father for aiding in this tomfoolery.”

  Amanda glanced at her cousin. “Our lips are sealed.”

  “Absolutely,” Fanny agreed and touched her index finger to her lips.

  After a final instruction that they should turn out the lights, Marvin retreated up the stairs, and the girls began their vigil in earnest. The minutes ticked by slowly as they listened for any unusual sounds near the back of the house.

  “You don’t think they’ll return and use the front door of the house, do you? Or perhaps they’ve devised some way of crawling through an upstairs window and we’ll end up sitting on these steps all night.” Fanny grimaced. “The joke would surely be on us if that occurred.”

  Amanda shifted on the hard wooden step. “No. They’ll come in this way. I’m certain of it.”

  Though she wished they could see a clock from their vantage point, Fanny was certain at least two hours had passed since Marvin’s departure. Her backside ached, and she wanted to go up to bed. Her cousins were likely spending the night with some of their friends. Just as she opened her mouth to suggest they call off their prank, Amanda nudged her.

  “Listen! I hear voices. It’s them.” Fanny clutched Amanda’s hand in a death grip.

  Amanda squeezed back until Fanny thought the bones in her hand would break. “That’s my father’s voice. He’s with them.” Amanda’s gaze fastened on the door, her eyes now as big as saucers. “What are we going to do?”

  “Maybe it’s not—”

  Amanda wagged her head. “It is him. I know my own father’s voice. Do you think we have time to stop them?”

  “Let’s pray the boys walk in the door—”

  Before she could complete the sentence, the back door opened. Just as Marvin had predicted, the whitewash descended like a milky shower from heaven. Only instead of dousing her cousins, Uncle Jonas was the surprised recipient. He sputtered and gasped, his arms flailing while the whitewash poured over him.

  The girls considered running up the stairs, but Jefferson had already spotted them. “Look what you’ve done, Amanda and Fanny,” he chided in a loud voice. He stood behind his father, grinning like a silly schoolboy, obviously delighted by their plight.

  Amanda jumped to her feet. “I’m so sorry, Father. It was a silly attempt to put Jefferson and George in their place. I thought you had retired for the night, and we heard the boys talk about frightening the Donaldson children, and . . .”

  Her father yanked his spectacles from the bridge of his nose. “Do cease your prattling and fetch me a towel, Amanda.”

  Once he’d removed his jacket and wiped off a portion of the whitewash, Uncle Jonas pointed the girls to the table. “Sit down and explain.” He turned toward his sons. “And you two sit down at that end of the table.”

  One look at Uncle Jonas was enough to deduce that if their scheme had gone according to plan, they would have achieved perfection. Fanny’s older cousins would have turned into ghosts. Instead, her uncle was glowering at the two of them and awaiting a full explanation.

  “I’ll let you tell him,” Fanny whispered to her cousin. After all, the plan had been Amanda’s idea, and Uncle Jonas was unhappy enough with Fanny already.

  All of them focused on Amanda while she explained how the entire scheme had been formulated in order to teach Jefferson and George a lesson and force them to quit harassing the young Donaldson boys. “How were we to know you would be with Jefferson and George? If only one of them had entered the door first.”

  “Well, they didn’t. And what makes you think that you need to take charge of supervising your brothers and their behavior? I am well equipped to manage such matters without your intervention. Your brothers had already been strongly chastised before our return home.”

  “But how did you know what they were up to?”

  “Mrs. Donaldson spoke to me before she departed the other day. She apprised me of your brothers’ pranks, and I had gone to confront them in the midst of their frivolity this evening. All had been resolved, until this.” Uncle Jonas gestured toward the dripping whitewash.

  “What on earth is all the commotion down here? Oh, dear me, Jonas! You look like a ghost.” Aunt Victoria clapped a hand to her mouth and shook her head. “What has happened to you? I thought you went out to put a stop to all these pranks, and now I find you’ve joined in. I never would have believed my husband—”

  “Oh, forevermore, Victoria. I’ve been caught in a prank set up by your daughter and niece. I’ll explain when we get upstairs. For now, I suggest we all get a few hours of sleep before the kitchen staff comes downstairs to prepare breakfast. I don’t want them to find me sitting here with this painted face.”

  Aunt Victoria removed several dishcloths from one of the drawers and dampened them with water. “You children run along to bed. I’m going to help your father.”

  Amanda and Fanny didn’t hesitate. They raced up the back stairs at breakneck speed, with Jefferson and George not far behind, both of the young men chuckling over the girls’ blunder. When Amanda reached her bedroom door, she turned around and pointed her finger at her brothers. “Don’t think you’ve had the last laugh. We have two months at the island, you know.”

  Jefferson chortled. “I believe these girls are throwing down the gauntlet and offering us a challenge, George.” He offered a mock salute. “To an exciting and entertaining summer, dear ladies.”

  Fanny and Amanda watched them swagger down the hallway. This would, indeed, be a su
mmer of challenges.

  Fanny twirled in front of her cousin. “I think this dress will do just fine.”

  Amanda pointed to the pink sash that surrounded the waist of her own pastel foulard dress. “If you don’t mind wearing last year’s frock, who am I to object? Would you tie my sash?”

  While Amanda watched in the mirror, Fanny tied the sash in a proper bow. “I don’t see why a new frock is needed to attend church and the Independence Day festivities.”

  “I think the celebration is a perfect excuse for purchasing a new dress. You merely dislike going for fittings, so you’re willing to wear your old dresses. Grand-mère would be most unhappy with you,” Amanda said. “She didn’t approve of appearing at a public function in the same gown.”

  “No one remembers what I wore last year. You wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t told you. I do wish your father would let us attend some of the other celebrations in town after the parade. I don’t know why the family always insists upon immediately returning to East Avenue. I hear the celebration at Brown Square is great fun. Sophie said some of her friends are going there. She plans to sneak off and join them. I wish we could, too.”

  “We’d be found out for certain. Sophie doesn’t have to worry about getting into trouble because Uncle Quincy seldom knows where she is. Sometimes I don’t think he even cares. On the other hand, my mother and father won’t let me out of their sight for a moment. There should be some sort of balance, don’t you think?”

  Fanny agreed. She would love just a taste of the freedom Sophie enjoyed. Not that she wanted to run amok and stay out late, but she would like to see some of the things Sophie had mentioned—like all of the girls removing their stockings and dipping their feet in the wading pool that Sophie referred to as the mud pit. Hearing the German musicians play their accordions and seeing them dressed in their lederhosen while celebrating the independence of the United States would be great fun. Sophie had enthusiastically told Fanny of the beer drinking, singing, and laughter that continued until well after midnight. Perhaps she and Amanda could steal away for just a little while during the early evening hours. Then again, she knew they wouldn’t be brave enough to do anything so daring.

  Aunt Victoria stood at the foot of the staircase, wearing a pale green corded silk dress with a square yoke of white chiffon. White ospreys and pale green ribbons adorned the fancy straw hat—a perfect match for her gown. “Come along, girls. We’re going to be late for church. The carriage is waiting.” She stopped midstep and inspected Fanny’s dress. “Isn’t that last year’s frock? I thought you told me you had a dress for today’s festivities.”

  Fanny shrugged. “It’s perfectly fine. No one will know I wore it last year.”

  Her aunt frowned. “I knew. The dress is out of fashion. I don’t want people thinking your Uncle Jonas isn’t treating you well.”

  “If you hear any of the local gossips prattling, you may send them my way and I will set things aright.”

  Aunt Victoria tapped her index finger on her chin. “Amanda has another new gown. Perhaps we have time for you to change.” She glanced at the grandfather clock.

  “Mother! You can’t give away my new gown.” Amanda folded her arms across her chest. “Besides, it wouldn’t fit. Fanny is shorter, and the dress would drag on the ground.”

  Her aunt waved them toward the door. “I suppose there’s nothing to do then but hold our heads up and pretend that all is well.”

  “All is well, Aunt Victoria. We need not pretend,” Fanny replied as she looped arms with her aunt and proceeded down the front steps. “Will Sophie and Uncle Quincy be meeting us?”

  “I invited them, but Quincy didn’t respond to my note. That man is in a world of his own. And who knows where Sophie will be. Certainly not her father. You girls keep an eye out for Sophie at church this morning. If you see her, tell her she’s expected at the family festivities this evening. Uncle Jonas has arranged for a spectacular fireworks display.”

  “That’s what he said last year,” Amanda commented.

  Her mother held her finger to her lips. “Shh. It wasn’t your father’s fault that the fireworks didn’t arrive. There was some mistake in the order or some such thing, but he’s told me the fireworks arrived last week, and he’s arranged for them to be discharged once it turns dark. It’s going to be great fun.”

  “They have fireworks and Japanese lanterns and music at Brown Square. And the children play in the wading pool, too,” Fanny said.

  Her aunt regarded her with a stern expression. “Very unsanitary, Fanny. And who’s been telling you about the activities at Brown Square?”

  “Some of the servants were discussing the festivities,” Amanda replied.

  “The servants need to cease their chattering and tend to their duties. They have more than enough to keep them busy, what with preparing food for the picnic and guests this evening.”

  “And packing our belongings to depart for the island. I can hardly wait. I do wish I could go with the servants on Tuesday.” Fanny sighed.

  Her uncle assisted the three women into the carriage. “I thought you ladies were never going to join me. At this rate we’re going to be late for church, and you know how I dislike making an entrance. Where are Jefferson and George?”

  “Don’t fret, dear. They departed earlier and said they’d meet us at church.”

  “Likely story. Those boys are going to be the death of me.”

  While the coach traversed the short distance to the church, Uncle Jonas continued muttering to his wife about the behavior of his two youngest sons. If Jefferson and George weren’t at church, there was little doubt they would incur their father’s wrath.

  Fanny thought that would be a delightful turn of events, considering the whitewash episode two weeks earlier.

  “Uncle Jonas certainly seems pleased with himself,” Fanny murmured as she scooted closer to Amanda on the garden settee.

  A burst of silver shot up overhead and sprayed out against the black skies. The little children clapped and cheered while the adults oohed and ahhed. The fireworks had truly been amazing, and now as the evening’s festivities were nearly over, Fanny was sorry for it all to end.

  “Everything has gone off as scheduled,” Amanda replied. He’s always pleased when he has charge of everything.” She leaned back and sighed. “It has been a very pleasant day, to be sure.”

  “I agree. I prefer celebrating the Fourth at the island, but this was quite grand,” Fanny admitted. “I ate too much, however.”

  “It’s hard not to when there are so many delightful delicacies to choose from.”

  “Especially the iced creams. Goodness, but I had to sample a bit of each one,” Fanny said rather shamefully.

  Amanda laughed. “As did I.”

  A yelp from Jefferson caused everyone to take note. One of the lit fireworks had fallen over, and when it erupted, it sent sparks into the few remaining fireworks near Jefferson’s feet. It was only a moment before everything was firing off at once and flames were burning up the paper wrappings.

  “Grab a bucket of water,” Amanda ordered Fanny, “and follow me.”

  There were many well-placed buckets around the gathering, and everyone raced for them at once. They knew that keeping the fire under control was critical, and plenty of water had been made available for just such a purpose.

  Jefferson grabbed a bucket offered by his mother and put out the bulk of the flames right away. George followed suit, dousing much of the remaining fire, while their father, too, cast a bucket of water.

  Amanda came up behind Jefferson, who already had another bucket in hand. She motioned to Fanny and pointed at George. Grinning, she nodded and Fanny immediately figured out her game.

  Without warning, the girls tossed the water, drenching George and Jefferson. The young men gave such loud cries of protest that Victoria immediately worried they were injured.

  “Have you been burned?” she called out.

  Jefferson turned to face his sist
er. Water dripped down the side of his face. “Not burned, but nearly drowned.”

  “I’m so sorry, brother dear. I was attempting to cast water onto the flames,” Amanda said innocently.

  “Yes, we were just trying to be helpful,” Fanny agreed.

  “Of course,” George said, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. “Just like we’re going to be helpful in return.”

  “Boys, get inside and change those clothes before you catch your death,” Victoria instructed. Fanny thought she detected a hint of a smile on her aunt’s lips. “Girls, I suggest you avoid trying to help with the fire next time.”

  Amanda and Fanny grinned. “But of course, Mother,” Amanda replied as she looped her arm with Fanny’s. “At least until our aim improves.”

  “I’d say your aim was just fine,” her mother said with a wink.

  6

  Monday, July 5, 1897

  Broadmoor Island

  Even though there were many duties that required Michael Atwell’s attention, the hours couldn’t pass quickly enough for him. He would work day and night to complete the necessary tasks if it would hasten Fanny’s arrival at the island. While most of the island staff dreaded the return of the Broadmoor family, Michael counted the minutes until their return—at least until Fanny arrived. The influx of the family meant added work for all of the staff, but Michael knew he would find ample time to spend with Fanny.

  From her early years, Fanny had been different from the rest of the Broadmoor family. She hadn’t cared that Michael was the son of the hired help or that his status could never match that of the Broadmoors. She had taken to Michael and then to his parents, treating them as though they were family and exhibiting a fondness for Frank and Maggie Atwell that amazed Michael.

  “There you are!” Michael’s mother stood in the doorway of the kitchen. “There’s no time for daydreaming. The family will be arriving this week and there’s much to be done. Come in and help me rearrange some of this furniture.” Michael strode toward her, his mass of wavy brown hair tucked beneath his cap. “And take off that cap when you cross the threshold, young man.”

 

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