A Daughter's Inheritance

by Judith Miller

  “Theresa!”

  Mr. Broadmoor stood on the upper veranda with his arms folded across his chest. He pointed toward the ground. “Meet me on the lower veranda.”

  Theresa sighed. Mr. Broadmoor was going to expect a report on her progress. No doubt he’d find her excuses unacceptable. Perspiration dampened her palms. Theresa swiped her hands down her skirt and prepared to be chastised. She forced a smile as Mr. Broadmoor stepped onto the porch. His white shirt appeared nearly as stiff as the set of his shoulders.

  He didn’t waste time with idle chitchat. “How are matters progressing between you and Michael?”

  She remained standing, though Mr. Broadmoor had settled into one of the cushioned wicker chairs. “Not as smoothly as I had hoped—though it’s not from my lack of trying,” she hastened to add. The older man remained attentive while she proceeded through the litany of difficulties she’d experienced. She was certain he was unhappy with her. He rubbed his jaw and stared into the distance.

  When she could no longer bear the silence, Theresa sat down beside him. “I even spoke to his mother and inquired how I might win his affections.”

  Jonas arched his brows. “And?”

  “Mrs. Atwell said he had eyes for only one woman, and she didn’t think I’d be successful.”

  “Hmm. So even his mother realizes he’s smitten with my niece.” Jonas studied the vessel slowly moving downriver. The steamer whistled two short blasts, and Captain Visegar waved his hat high in the air. The aging captain conducted fifty-mile cruises through the islands twice a day in his New Island Wanderer. Visitors came armed with the captain’s brochure that described the different islands, the beautiful mansions, and résumés of the various owners. “I have an idea that Michael won’t be able to refuse.”

  Theresa leaned forward, anxious for details. Her excitement mounted as Mr. Broadmoor described the harbor lights cruise that was conducted every Saturday night. “Perhaps you’ve heard some of the family or guests mention it?”

  “I haven’t, but it sounds like great fun. However, I doubt Michael would invite me.”

  “I’ll take care of that. My wife and I will host all of our guests on the tour this Saturday night. I’ll purchase tickets for you and Michael. I’ll tell him that I mistakenly purchased the incorrect number of tickets and ask that he act as your escort, since this is your first summer on the island and you’ve not been on the tour.”

  “What a wonderful plan.”

  “Indeed. And I’ll expect you to make good use of your time on the cruise. Make Fanny believe that Michael is romantically interested in you.” He leaned forward in his chair. “May I count on you to do your very best?”

  She gave an enthusiastic nod. “Trust me. You won’t be disappointed, Mr. Broadmoor.”

  19

  Saturday, August 7, 1897

  Fanny slumped in her chair. “I don’t want to be included in the searchlight excursion this evening. I truly cannot believe your father purchased tickets and expects all of us to attend.” She rested her chin in her palm. “The entire outing is unlike him. He detests socializing with anyone other than his equals and discourages the rest of us from doing so, too.”

  Amanda giggled. “With the entire family and all of our guests, he’s likely assumed there will be no space for any other passengers.”

  Sophie wrinkled her nose. “I hope that isn’t true. I want to mingle with some other people—we’ve been with family all week long. I think I’ll send Michael to Castle Rest and have him deliver an invitation to Georgie and Sanger Pullman. They’re always enjoyable company.”

  Amanda turned from her dressing table. “You’d best not send out any invitations without Father’s approval.”

  Sophie had already retrieved a piece of writing paper from Amanda’s desk and didn’t hesitate while dipping her cousin’s pen into the bottle of ink. “I’m not sending an invitation. I’m merely telling them we’ll be on the steamer and they should join us if they have no other plans for the evening.” The minute she’d completed the note, Sophie jumped up from the writing desk.

  “I’ll go with you. I’ve a need of fresh air,” Fanny said.

  Sophie playfully grasped her cousin’s arm. “Would you feel the need for fresh air if I wasn’t going to search for Michael Atwell?”

  Fanny ignored the question. Sophie already knew the answer. Though they invited Amanda to join them, she declined. The two cousins hastened toward the boathouse, their laughter drifting overhead on the warm afternoon breeze. The clatter of their shoes on the wooden dock surrounding the boathouse eliminated any element of surprise. Michael was watching the door when they entered.

  He continued to sand one of the small skiffs. “What can I do for you ladies?”

  Sophie held out the envelope. “I was hoping you’d have time to deliver this note to Castle Rest within the hour. Is that possible?”

  Michael stroked his palm along the black walnut gunwale of the skiff. “So long as Mr. Broadmoor has no objection.” He stepped closer and retrieved the envelope.

  “If Uncle Jonas should ask, I’ll tell him you made the delivery at Sophie’s instruction,” Fanny replied.

  He nodded. “Good day then, ladies.” Michael tucked the envelope into his pocket and picked up the sandpaper.

  Sophie stared at him when he didn’t budge. “When are you going to depart?”

  Michael shrugged. “In a half hour or so. It doesn’t take long to get to Pullman Island.”

  She waved toward Michael’s pocket. “That’s a note asking the Pullman brothers to join us for the spotlight tour of the islands this evening. The sooner it’s delivered, the better.”

  The sandpaper dropped from Michael’s hand and fluttered to the floor. “You’re going on the cruise, too?”

  “What do you mean, too? Are you going?” Sophie shot a grin in Fanny’s direction. “As much as you’re around boats, I wouldn’t think you’d be interested in a cruise on someone else’s vessel.”

  Fanny pinched her cousin. If Michael was going to be on the boat, that changed everything. The idea of a late-evening cruise now held appeal, and she didn’t want Sophie to influence Michael otherwise.

  “He’s taking me on the cruise, aren’t you, Michael?” Theresa sashayed to Michael’s side and grasped his arm in a possessive hold.

  Fanny wilted at the sight.

  Michael wrenched free of Theresa’s grasp. “I’ll deliver your note immediately.”

  Theresa hurried behind him. “Oh, may I go with you? I’ve completed my chores and—”

  “No. Against the rules,” he curtly replied before jumping into the launch. “Am I to wait for a reply or merely leave this with one of the servants, Miss Sophie?”

  She pondered for a moment. “No need to wait for a reply, but ask that it be immediately delivered to either Sanger or Georgie.”

  Michael touched two fingers to the brim of his cap and saluted. Had Sophie not yanked on her sleeve, Fanny would have remained to watch his departure. Truth be told, she would have waited until he returned. She couldn’t believe he had invited Theresa to accompany him on a cruise that was touted as the islands’ most romantic tour. Yet he hadn’t denied the assertion. And her pride wouldn’t permit her to question Theresa.

  Fanny plodded back toward the house with Sophie at her side. “Can you believe Michael asked her? I think it was probably the other way around. Theresa purchased the tickets and asked him. Or his mother’s forcing him to go as a favor. She and Mrs. O’Malley are friends. I’d wager that’s what happened.” She tipped her head to the side and arched her brows. “Don’t you think, Sophie? I mean Michael absolutely wouldn’t have taken it upon himself to do such a thing. I don’t believe it—not for a minute!”

  Sophie stopped in her tracks. “Do you want me to answer, or have you already sufficiently answered the question for yourself?”

  “I’m not certain. I want you to respond but only if you say what I want to hear.”

  Sophie giggled. “A
t least you’re honest. I think Theresa played a large part in arranging the evening with Michael, but you must remember that Michael is a grown man. He has the ability to say no—and he obviously didn’t.” She grabbed Fanny’s hand and continued up the hill. “You need to make him jealous. Michael needs to see that you can attract other men. Perhaps we should ask Sanger or Georgie to help us with our plan. One of them would be willing to play the part of an amorous admirer. That would be great fun.”

  “No. I don’t want to involve anyone else. The twins would ask questions, and soon everyone would know of my feelings for Michael.”

  “Then simply act interested in one of those young men in Uncle Jonas’s entourage. Problem resolved.”

  Fanny didn’t agree, but she didn’t argue with her cousin. Unlike Sophie, she had never learned the finer points of flirting. What’s more, she had no desire to cultivate her cousin’s womanly wiles.

  Fanny’s excuses failed. Uncle Jonas had turned a deaf ear to her every attempt. She’d even resorted to going behind his back and seeking her aunt’s permission to remain at home, but that too had proved futile. In the end there had been no escape. Along with their weekend guests and other members of the household, Fanny donned her finery and boarded the DaisyBee for their ride to Clayton. They were packed into the launch like sardines in a can, with Fanny squeezed between Daniel Irwin and Benjamin Wolgast. Theresa had positioned herself as close to Michael as humanly possible—or so it seemed to Fanny. At least they wouldn’t be sandwiched together in close quarters once they boarded the Wanderer. Hopefully she could escape Daniel and Benjamin as well as their tiresome anecdotes.

  “Which one have you chosen?” Sophie whispered as they disembarked in Clayton.

  “Neither,” Fanny hissed.

  Sophie grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away from the crowd. “If you’re going to gain Michael’s attention, you must do as I say. I’ll be required to sic Georgie or Sanger on you if you don’t choose someone and begin to flirt.”

  “Don’t you dare, Sophie!”

  Sophie cast a triumphant look over her shoulder. “Then do as I say, Cousin.”

  Fanny surveyed the men and then noticed that Michael and Theresa had distanced themselves from the Broadmoors and their guests. Obviously they were uncomfortable. She experienced a twinge of pity and then shoved the feeling aside. Michael should have known better. Did he care so much for Theresa that he would subject himself to this awkward and humiliating situation? Perhaps he did. The thought was sobering.

  “Come along now. We don’t want to detain the captain or the other passengers.” Uncle Jonas stood at the edge of the pier while waving them forward.

  As predicted, her uncle had assumed there wouldn’t be space on the Wanderer for anyone other than his guests. He’d been wrong—and he was unhappy. Her uncle had attempted to persuade the captain to send the additional passengers over to ride on the St. Lawrence. Citing the fact that angry customers made for bad publicity, the captain hadn’t yielded to Uncle Jonas. The captain was bright enough to understand that a rare excursion by Jonas Broadmoor and his family didn’t hold enough sway to offset the possibility of a bad reputation among the hordes of vacationers who arrived daily and didn’t hesitate to spend their hard-earned cash for an outing on his boat.

  Her uncle did his best to arrange their seating in a segregated manner, waving Jefferson, George, and both of the Pullman twins toward the rear of the boat when they attempted to mingle with the tourists. Unexpectedly, he directed Michael and Theresa toward the rear of the boat, also.

  With a smug smile, Theresa squeezed onto the seat and forced Fanny closer to Daniel, who immediately assumed she was seeking his attention. When he fumbled for her hand Fanny yanked away and accidentally elbowed Theresa in the ribs. Theresa yelped in pain while Aunt Victoria shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Please don’t cause us any embarrassment, Fanny.”

  Fanny glared at Daniel. “Keep your hands to yourself and there won’t be any further problems.”

  Daniel grinned and casually draped his arm across the back of the seat. “That should give you a little more room.” He tipped his head closer and winked. “You need not be coy with me. I can always tell when a lady is captivated by my charm.”

  “Can you? Then I’m certain you realize I find you a total boor,” she whispered before turning her attention to her aunt. “Did you tell Uncle Jonas we visited Mrs. Comstock while we were in Brockville, Aunt Victoria?”

  “Thank you for the reminder, Fanny,” she said and then addressed Jonas. “Mrs. Comstock mentioned that her husband wants to visit with you in the near future regarding some investments.”

  Jonas rubbed his hands together. “I’d wager he’s concerned about George Fulford infringing on his patent medicine business. Did you invite them to come to the island for a visit?”

  Victoria nodded. “I did. She was going to check with her husband, but they may visit in late August if their schedule permits.”

  The boat continued slowly downriver while the captain pointed out the colored gaslights that lit numerous islands, including their own. When Theresa and Michael moved from their seat toward the rail, Fanny edged away from Daniel. He immediately closed the gap.

  “What other news was circulating in Brockville? Was there much talk of the gold strike in the Yukon?”

  At the mention of the gold strike, the young men’s excitement escalated. Daniel finally shook his head in disgust. “Only a fool would waste his time running off in search of gold. The men return broken and destitute.”

  “You’d best not make such a comment in front of our father,” Sanger told him. “It’s Colorado gold that helped him on his way.”

  Daniel laughed. “You’ll not fool me with that story. It was his luxurious railroad cars that made the Pullman money—not gold.”

  “Sanger’s speaking the truth,” Georgie said. “Of course not all of those men were as fortunate as our father, but for those who were . . .” His voice trailed off on the breeze. “I’m just glad I don’t have to concern myself with making money. There’s far too much time and energy involved in the process, and I wouldn’t want to rob my father of the pleasure. Besides, I much prefer the spending process, don’t you, Sanger?”

  Fanny noted Michael’s obvious interest as he leaned forward to listen to the conversation. Gold—and lots of it, one of the fellows reported. Ready for any man willing to head north. Fanny experienced a sense of satisfaction when Theresa’s attempt to lure Michael into a conversation failed. Like the rest of the men, he was far more interested in the Yukon gold than the colorful island lights or the moonlight dancing on the water.

  Fanny yanked the thick-bristled brush through her unmanageable curls. “Did you see how Theresa behaved this evening? She draped herself across Michael like a wool shawl on a cold night!”

  Amanda giggled. “I do think that’s an exaggeration, dear girl. And I don’t believe I saw Michael object to her attentions.”

  Sophie slipped into her nainsook nightgown and tied the pale blue ribbons. “I’m not so sure. He attempted to withdraw from her several times, but she followed after him like a puppy dog longing for affection. Do you think she loves him?”

  “How could she love him? She barely knows him,” Fanny protested.

  “No need to take your anger out on me,” Sophie said.

  Amanda unpinned her hair and let it fall around her shoulders. “I thought you had released all your anger when you poked Theresa in the side. I heard her complaining to Michael when we returned home. He had to nearly lift her off the DaisyBee.”

  Fanny slapped the hairbrush onto her dressing table. “Oh, pshaw! She wasn’t hurt in the least. Can’t you see that she’s nothing more than a flirt and a fraud? She wasn’t injured, and she doesn’t truly care for Michael. He’s simply a diversion, another conquest.”

  “Sounds as though you’re describing Sophie,” Amanda said with a grin.

  Sophie tapped her finger to her chin. “Hmm.
I suppose it does.” She immediately brightened. “If she’s truly like me, then she doesn’t care about Michael and you need not worry yourself, Fanny. I think you should confront Michael and ask him if he has feelings for Theresa. The two of you have been friends for years. If he’s half the man you profess, he shouldn’t object to giving you an honest answer.”

  Amanda immediately warned against Sophie’s suggestion. Such a confrontation would be foolhardy, she advised. So by the time Fanny departed for her own bedroom, her thoughts were a jumble and she’d arrived at only one conclusion: she wanted Michael for herself.

  Fanny’s sleep was fraught with dreams of Theresa and Michael. Theresa in a beautiful wedding gown while Mrs. Atwell held a wedding cake high in the air for inspection; Theresa’s name inscribed on the cake in large black letters; a happy Michael retrieving a wedding ring from his pocket to show her and then turning to place it on Theresa’s finger. At the sound of wedding bells, Fanny awakened with a start. Her forehead was damp with perspiration, and the ringing bell that had awakened her was a boat on the river. The wedding had been a dream—or a nightmare.

  Fanny’s decision was clear when she descended the stairs. The rest of the family hadn’t yet come down for breakfast. Michael would be at the boathouse, and Theresa would be helping with breakfast preparations. Fanny and Michael could talk without fear of interruption—if he didn’t find another excuse to avoid her.

  The river cooled the August breeze, and Fanny longed to be out in the skiff fishing with Michael. He’d refused her every request, citing his increased duties, yet he seemed to have time for Theresa. Her decisiveness waned as she opened the boathouse door. What if he said he loved Theresa? What would she do?

  Michael turned as she opened the door. Surprise shone in his eyes, but he didn’t move. She hurried toward him, anxious to close the distance that separated them. “We need to talk, Michael.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the rear exit, and she touched his arm. “Please don’t make excuses and run off. I thought you cared for me, that you were my friend. Yet every time I come near, you flee. What have I done?” When he didn’t answer, she forced herself to ask the question that burned in her heart. “Is it Theresa? Do you love her?”