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.
One by one, Jonas pulled aside Daniel, Fred, and Benjamin for a private discussion and a reminder that Fanny should be the object of their affection. Only Benjamin argued.
He tugged on his stiff shirt collar and fidgeted like a schoolboy. “I like Sophie a lot, Mr. Broadmoor. And Fanny doesn’t appear to be interested in having me around. If it’s okay with you, I’d rather take my chances at winning Sophie’s heart.”
“This has nothing to do with love or winning a young woman’s heart, Benjamin. Have you so quickly forgotten this is about money—a large inheritance?”
Benjamin winked. “But Sophie is a Broadmoor. One day she’ll inherit, too.”
The young man’s sly grin took Jonas by surprise. Benjamin was plotting to have his cake and eat it, too! Perhaps this young fellow wouldn’t prove as tractable as Jonas had thought. “Don’t expect Sophie to come into a large sum of money. Her father will pour his inheritance into his Home for the Friendless. Even if there should be some small remainder, Sophie has four siblings who would share in such funds. You would reap little financial gain from such a marriage, and even that would not occur for years.” Jonas squeezed Benjamin’s shoulder. “This is your decision, but I expect you to remember our agreement.” The boy’s shoulder quivered beneath his grasp, and Jonas smiled. Benjamin had understood his warning.
Jonas ordered Amanda to the kitchen with instructions for Mrs. Atwell to prepare a picnic lunch large enough to feed all of their guests. But when Fanny attempted to join Amanda on her errand, Jonas blocked her path. “Amanda doesn’t need your assistance, Fanny; she knows her way to the kitchen. You can help Daniel gather the mallets and balls for the croquet game. He doesn’t know where they’re located.”
Daniel hastened to Fanny’s side. “I’d be most pleased to have your assistance.”
“I’ll help, too,” Benjamin said. “We can set up the wickets now and begin our game as soon as we’ve eaten our lunch.”
Soon all of the young men were following Fanny’s bidding as she directed placement of the wickets—all except George and Jefferson, who were lounging on the lower veranda, watching in amusement.
Sophie paced in front of them until George begged her to sit down. “I realize you’re angry because you’ve lost your admirers to Fanny, but do take heart. She’s not at all interested in any of them. Watch her! She’s merely tolerating their attention. And the men are out there because Father insisted. To ignore his request would have been rude. Bide your time, Cousin. They’ll soon be fawning over you again.”
Amanda rounded the corner, and both of her brothers jumped to their feet. “I do hope you’ve come to announce lunch. We’re starving,” George said.
“I’m afraid not, though you may as well help yourself to the lunch Mrs. Atwell packed for Fanny and me. It’s over near the front door. Don’t eat it all, or you’ll ruin your appetite.”
Jefferson laughed. “Don’t worry. I doubt your dainty sandwiches will be sufficient to ruin my dinner.”
Amanda dropped onto one of the chairs. “They appear to be having a gay time.”
Sophie glanced over her shoulder and then joined her cousin. “They all are quite nice and very attentive. At least they were until your father turned their attention toward Fanny.”
“In truth, I thought Father had decided upon those young men as possible suitors for me. Silly, but I actually believed he’d been thinking of me while he was in Rochester last week. He’d recently mentioned finding a young man who would prove a perfect match.” Amanda rested her chin in her palm. “Not that I desire a husband anytime in the near future, but my father is seemingly more interested in Fanny’s future than that of his own daughter.”
“And that surprises you?” Sophie groaned. “In case you haven’t noticed, none of the Broadmoor men have ever taken an interest in their daughters—unless it offered some advantage.”
“I suppose that’s true enough,” Amanda agreed. Her father had never doted upon her. In fact, he’d shown her very little attention throughout the years. It was one reason she’d been stirred to seek fulfillment in charity work rather than a marriage to someone who would likely treat her as impersonally as had her father throughout the years. “Why, then, do I feel betrayed that this group of men wasn’t invited for my benefit? I knew Father would concern himself with finding Fanny a proper husband. He is, after all, her guardian.”
“Not only that, she’s become exceedingly wealthy,” Sophie added.
“Still, I thought he would give her time. She is only seventeen, and I’m nineteen.”
“But you’re completely dependent upon your father’s money and therefore the situation is not quite so urgent. Uncle Jonas is your father, but he’s devoted his time and thought to Fanny and her future rather than yours.” Sophie turned her gaze back toward the group of men knocking the croquet balls across the lawn. “I believe your father has chosen one of those fellows as Fanny’s husband. I think he’s going to force her into an arranged marriage. Something I would rail against. You should count yourself fortunate.”
“What makes you think that’s what he’s doing? Grandfather just died. Surely Father would not expect Fanny to consider matrimony just yet.”
“Do open your eyes, dear girl. He sent her out with Frank this morning, and now that she’s returned, he’s busy arranging for her to spend time with the others. Maybe he hasn’t selected the exact one yet, but I’d guess he’s trying to choose a favorite.
If you watch closely, you’ll see that he keeps maneuvering several of the men toward her.”
Amanda sighed. “You may be right. I had mentioned that very possibility to Fanny but hadn’t expected it this soon. I know Father will worry about undesirables trying to woo her now that she has a fortune. Still, none of us will have the final say in the person we wed. The women in our family are expected to marry a person of their own social standing.”
“Did I hear the two of you discussing the possibility of prospective husbands?” Both girls swiveled toward the sound of Beatrice’s voice, and she laughed. “It appears I surprised both of you.”
Sophie glared at her sister. “You were eavesdropping—not a particularly admirable behavior.”
“And you would certainly know about admirable behavior, dear Sophie. Have you decided to marry one of those fops Uncle Jonas brought with him for the weekend, Amanda?”
“Quite the contrary. Sophie thinks my father has brought them as possible suitors for Fanny. I haven’t decided if that’s the case, but she may be correct.”
“I don’t care whether she finds a suitable husband or not. I still can’t believe Grandfather left a third of his estate to that little snippet. It’s completely unfair! And she has no brother or sisters—no one with whom she’ll have to share.” Beatrice’s lips drooped more than usual.
“Would you like all of us to apologize for being born, Beatrice?” Sophie asked. “Your greed is even more
unbecoming than your eavesdropping.”
Beatrice wagged her finger. “One day you’ll care. Then it will be too late.”
Sophie chuckled. “Too late? I have no control over how the family money is divided, and neither do you. More to the point, I don’t care if Fanny receives a greater share of the estate. Just as your future was decided by the men in this family, mine will also be determined by their whims.” Sophie smoothed the bodice of her gown as Fanny and the men sauntered toward the lower veranda. “For now, dear Beatrice, I intend to assert my own will and have more fun than proper society permits.”
16
Saturday, July 31, 1897
Fanny buttoned Sophie’s dress and then bade her cousin turn around. “I do fear your father won’t be pleased with the gown you’ve chosen.”
“My father won’t even notice. He seldom is aware of me, even when I’m in the same room.” The topaz necklace that circled Sophie’s neck sparkled in the soft light. “Beatrice will swoon when she sees I’ve pirated our mother’s necklace and brought it along.” Sadness shone in her eyes as she touched a finger to the jewels. “I always thought Mother looked beautiful when she wore this necklace.”
“And so do you,” Fanny said. “She would be pleased that you’ve chosen to wear her necklace.”
Sophie brightened. “In any case, I doubt Father will attend this evening. He dislikes parties and dancing. He’d much rather be in Rochester working alongside Paul than out here on the island with his family.” She shrugged. “But then, I’d rather be in Rochester, too.”
Fanny arranged a lace insert in the décolletage of her emerald green gown. “I thought you were excited about the ball.”
“I am, but the ball lasts for only one night.” With a giggle, Sophie leaned forward and attempted to remove the insert from Fanny’s dress. “You’re old enough to wear your gown without an insert.”
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