Lost Fortune (The Unbridled Series Book 1)

by Sandra E Sinclair

  “Couldn’t the same be said of me? Am I not a woman in trade?”

  The look Mrs. Woolum gave her said she agreed, but her words spoke differently. “I fear you use my own words against me. Regardless, I dare say this oversight will soon be corrected once you’re married. I can think of a few things Odum would want changed. Like that Indian teacher passing as white being one of them. I suppose until then, things can pretty much remain as they are.”

  “That’s extremely charitable of you, Mrs. Woolum,” Jewel said, rolling her eyes.

  “I doubt very much anything will change once I’m married,” Rilla said with more confidence than she felt.

  “Well I’m sure that’s down to Odum, don’t you think? Once you’re married, all your property will be transferred to him.”

  A black cloud hovered over Rilla, her heart began to pound in her chest, echoing in her ears, and with it her need to remain civil slowly evaporating. Jewel squeezed her hand. Rilla gave her a wry smile and stood.

  “Well I’d love to sit here all morning chatting with you, but we trade women have to work. We both have a class in a few minutes. Would you mind seeing yourself out?” Feel free to appraise the chandeliers and antique furnishings while you’re at it.

  “Miss Inghram, are you ready?” Jewel rose. “I’ll make sure to have someone bring you your belongings.”

  They walked out leaving an openmouthed Mrs. Woolum behind. Rilla knew what she did was rude, but she couldn’t tolerate the woman one second longer. No doubt she would report Rilla’s behaviour to Odum. However, the way Rilla felt had taken her way past caring.

  Chapter 6

  How did she get herself so entangled with this family? Odum was a good man, but was being with him worth the drama of having to deal with his mother? Jewel made a valid argument. Mrs. Woolum was going to be a problem.

  “You do know that she isn't going to let that go so easily. She’ll be running straight to Odum, to report your slight of her,” Jewel said, then giggled. “Great way to make a lasting impression with the soon to be mother-in-law. You were magnificent.” She held herself, then curtsied in front of Rilla.

  Rilla couldn’t fight the grin that spread to her lips. It had felt satisfying to leave the old goat standing there openmouthed.

  “Stop now, Jewel. What I did was wrong. She got me all riled up with her uppity ways,” Rilla said half-heartedly. “I will make arrangements to apologize. Needless to say, she did arrive uninvited in the middle of a school day, and I do have classes to teach. I wasn't lying. I just needed to have been politer about it.”

  Rilla groaned inside, this was an apology she wasn’t looking forward to, mainly because she wouldn’t mean a word of it.

  She had her doubts about Odum’s ability to overrule anything his mother said. Nevertheless, she couldn't back out of marrying him now. She only had a couple of months left to find a husband, or lose her inheritance.

  Who else would marry her at such short notice, and be serious? If she found a man now, he'd only be after her money. At least she knew with Odum, they were evenly matched on income. Rilla exhaled and went into her class. She told the girls what book to read, sat at her desk, and stared out the window.

  The cherry blossoms looked so pretty this time of year, she could almost smell them through the pane of glass separating her from the splendor of the beautiful landscaped garden. It came fully maintained with the land the house was built on. The workers were out there in the sun clipping and pruning the luscious array of flowers the land produced, to take to market in town.

  The clanging of her school bell seeped through Rilla’s thoughts. She wondered where the time went. Lost in her pondering, she couldn't rightly recall what she did after snubbing Mrs. Woolum.

  She dismissed the class and went back to her thoughts. So much had changed since she’d left Boston. Her future looked uncertain in light of her change of status. From belle to bastard as easily as that. She clicked her fingers and then looked about to see if she’d been seen or heard. Rilla sighed and looked at the offending digits.

  Her decline had already begun, acting unladylike, clicking her fingers, her actions those of a barroom floozy. The grandfather clock chimed its evening song. She’d better go and freshen up.

  Would she still be in this predicament had the man she’d met in Boston responded to the letter she wrote him? At the time, she’d been feeling alone and vulnerable as she waited in this strange land for Jewel to arrive from France.

  What would life have been like had he only reciprocated the gesture? After all, hadn’t he given her his card for just such a purpose? Her mind would often wander to him. He’d made quite the impression on her, and then simply vanished as quickly and easily as he’d appeared. She shook her head, no use dwelling on the past, or what might have been. Odum was her future.

  Exiting the classroom, she made her way to the residential part of the house. She pulled on the cord in her bedroom, signaling for one of the maids. Rilla needed a bath, she would be dining with Odum, a meeting she was not looking forward to. No doubt he’d have already spoken with his mother, and any conversation she could expect this evening would surely be tedious and leave her with indigestion.

  Maybe it would be best not to eat too much tonight and keep the meal, as well as the conversation, light.

  Rilla greeted Odum at the door herself, wanting to get her encounter with any unpleasantness over and done with right from the start. Odum raised an eyebrow when he saw it was her.

  “My, Rilla, you look mighty fine this evening. I trust you had a good day?” Odum removed his hat and bowed, before handing his hat and coat to her. Rilla rested Odum’s things on the side table in the hall, and turned toward him.

  “It was most pleasing, thank you for asking.” He kissed the back of her hand and smiled. Then he turned her palm upward and kissed her wrist, holding it to his cheek for an instant before releasing his hold.

  Rilla expelled a sigh in relief. Was it possible the old dragon hadn’t informed Odum of her rudeness earlier? “Shall we dine? I've arranged for a light meal this evening.”

  Odum followed her into the dining room, and stared at the table set for two. “Will Miss Jewel not be joining us?”

  “No, she had a prior engagement.” The truth was, Rilla had told Jewel to make herself busy elsewhere. If she was going to have it out with Odum, she'd prefer if there were no witnesses. Odum was a good man but he was a mommy's boy, and she would have to work really hard to change that.

  She’d planned to start right after the wedding, but after today, she realized she needed to put her plan for the removal of Mrs. Woolum into action at lot sooner. The woman was like a tumor which grew at an exponential rate. She’d have to work faster and harder to achieve her desired outcome.

  “Mother said she called upon you today.” Odum pulled out her chair before leaving to sit on the seat next to hers.

  So his mother had reported her. She could wave good-bye to a relaxing evening after all. “Yes she did.” Rilla paid much more attention to placing her napkin on her lap than was necessary.

  “She said you were unceremonious in your treatment of her.” Rilla looked up to see Odum staring at her. His voice was calm but his eyes held a fire she’d never seen in them before.

  “That’s not quite how I remember it,” she said, head bent, smoothing her napkin.

  “Just how do you remember it? Because she seemed quite distressed by the…by the experience.” He raised his handkerchief to his lips. “She had to take a sedative to calm her fragile nerves.”

  Rilla stilled the urge to roll her eyes. The old rattlesnake was a witch, if ever there was one, make no mistake. “She came a few minutes before class was due. I tried to explain it to her. Her visit was unannounced. It was inconvenient.”

  “You call my mother calling on you an inconvenience?”

  Rilla heard a tremor in his tone. Her temper flared. Who was he to chastise her for doing her job? “It is when I have a school to run.”<
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  Her tone must have registered with him because Odum released an exasperated breath and removed his kerchief. Whatever she’d seen in his eyes faded as fast as it had arrived. “I see. No matter, we can discuss the intricacy of such a remark later.” He flicked his napkin and rested it on his lap.

  “No, actually I think I'd like to discuss it now. Because from where I’m standing, I still have a business to run, regardless as to whether or not your mother thinks it’s a plaything, and that she can just show up, if and when the desire takes her.”

  “That's not what I’m saying, and you know it.”

  “I'm afraid I don't, Odum. Please...enlighten me. It would appear I'm a little dense today.”

  “Can we do this after we've eaten, please? Rilla, I'm sorry I even brought it up.”

  “As you wish, but it’s very much a topic we shall have to revisit at some point this evening.”

  “Fine.” Odum indicated to the waiting staff to start serving the meal.

  Chapter 7

  The meal was had in silence. Rilla didn’t want to talk to Odum just yet—not after the way he’d left her feeling after his last remark. She had so much she wanted to say, but held back. Life would be so much richer if her father hadn’t put that stupid clause in his will.

  To be fair, the stipulations of the will weren’t the only consideration and cause of her frustration. She needed to shoulder some of the blame for her current position. She should have shown more diligence, and exercised caution in evaluating all the complexities of having a union with a man such as Odum. Instead, she’d opted for the first man of means to show more than a fleeting interest in her, and thus, her circumstance would have been much improved.

  “I have to ask you something; it’s a little delicate,” Odum said, handing her a glass of sherry. They had since moved into the lounge.

  “Well, ask.” She took the glass. “What do you want to know?”

  “Mother says you've taken to teaching a dark girl here at the school, is that right?”

  “Yes, it is, and what of it?”

  “Well…mother thinks it could affect the reputation of the school. You know, educating a darky.” He covered his nose with his handkerchief, a nervous reaction Rilla had come to know and dislike. If he wanted to say something, just say it. Don’t hide behind a skimpy piece of material.

  “And what do you think?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat and glanced at her over the top of his kerchief. “I've turned a blind eye to the questionable legitimacy and parentage of your other students. I’ve even held my tongue, when you took into your employment a half Indian teacher, whose mother is wanted for murder, no less.” More throat clearing. Rilla, averted her eyes for fear he would see her rolling them as he continued to speak.

  “But I have to put my foot down sometime, and this is it.”

  Your foot, my darling Odum, or your mother’s oversized, elephant hooves? Those were the words Rilla wanted to utter.

  Instead, she said, “We had an agreement, Odum. The school was to be mine now, and even after we’re married, and you wouldn't interfere with how I ran things. Are you reneging on your word?”

  “No…I know what I said, but mother is insisting this will affect our reputation, and you know how she likes everything proper.”

  Rilla bit down hard on her lower lip, so hard her teeth pierced through the skin and it bleed.

  Odum’s eyes popped with surprise. He lowered his kerchief, and raced to her side. “Oh, my darling, you’re bleeding.” Odum took out a fresh handkerchief from inside his jacket, and mopped the side of her mouth as he fumbled out. “I'm sorry, Rilla, I didn't mean to upset you in any way. It’s just, well, with mother saying that... I mean she doesn’t hold kindly to women being educated anyway, other than to have the teachings of the Bible, and cooking. You know what she deems as womanly duties.”

  Rilla gave a slight bow, to separate herself from him, pressing the kerchief Odum had given her to her lip.

  She could see it now. She wouldn’t be marrying him; she’d be marrying his mother. Rilla would sooner see herself floating face down in a babbling brook. She rose and walked away, turning her back on him in an attempt to compose herself.

  But Odum’s mother kept right on speaking through her son’s voice. “It’s not right to be educating girls. Mother says all this education only interferes with women’s heads, giving them ideas above their station.”

  Rilla's nostrils flared as she stifled any rebuff. It wouldn’t be of any use. She didn't want to jeopardize their union, but she was beginning to think her battle was lost before it had even begun. She’d been trying desperately to refrain from counting how many times he used the word mother in a sentence, and finally gave up. It had been too many to count. How in tarnation was she going to woo a man so firmly attached to his mother’s teat?

  Maybe she did need to look elsewhere for her salvation, because Odum and his mother surely weren't the answer. She’d be a fool to continue jumping out of the pan and into the smothering hot flames that were Mrs. Woolum.

  Rilla made up her mind she would have to let Odum go, and set her sights a little lower. It wasn’t like she had any real claims to a decent life—not anymore. She was nothing more than the bastard child of a whore and her lover.

  Was it wrong to hope her second letter had gained more traction with her mysterious stranger from Boston? After all, he’d left her without word, dining alone after she’d spent most of the afternoon deciding she would go for that walk with him.

  She’d sent the first letter as a gauge as to whether or not she’d imagined their connection. There was no doubt she’d been attracted to him. However, he hadn’t replied to either of her letters to date. So why did she carry on hoping? Because she was desperate, that’s why.

  Rilla had sent the second letter a month ago, when her doubts about Odum had begun to take roots. He’d turned up at the school after a previous “mother said,” conversation—asking to see her books. His mother wanted to make sure financially, they were properly matched, thus doubling their income overall and giving them a fair footing socially.

  Doubling their income, and elevating both his and his mother’s social standing was not on Rilla’s agenda, and she wasn’t about to make it so either. She was thankful she had the prudence of mind to keep the income from the school, and the earnings from the conglomerate separate. Odum, nor his mother had any idea of her true worth, and she’d do her damnedest to keep it that way.

  Chapter 8

  “You’re a detective, aren’t you? So why haven’t you detected where my inheritance has gone? You have no trouble detecting how to file for your expenses.” Wyatt leaned back in his chair, red faced and puffing out like a blowfish.

  “There has to be another name. I have tried every registry and there is nothing which bears your father’s name. From what I’ve found out over the last ten months, you have everything you're entitled to. The lawyer has cheated you out of nothing. I'm about ready to call this investigation quits.” Cal ran his fingers over and around the brim of his hat. He’d never had a client he hated more than this man.

  “No.” Wyatt shook his head. “I won’t accept it. You can find it. I know there's more out there. Go out there and detect.” Wyatt searched through the top drawer of his desk, pulled out a scrap of paper and shoved it in Cal’s direction. “Here, read this.”

  He handed Cal a promissory note for shares in a gold mine conglomerate. Cal rubbed the back of his neck as he suppressed the urge to sigh in frustration. The man was like a bloodhound, he wasn’t going to give up on finding his prey. “This is no different from the information I already have. Yes, it says there’s gold, a house, land, but there is no name and no street, town or territory, nothing.”

  The scrunched up note didn’t help. He was good at what he did, but he wasn’t a magician. Even the most arduous of cases left some clue behind. This fool had nothing. Except for having him traipse up and down the country, when he could be doi
ng real investigative work, such as finding his gal for one.

  He’d try again to get through to this stubborn idiot. “Like I said before, this is no different from anything you've shared with me. How do you suppose I track down the owner of this mark without a name? I need names, names of places, something where I can make a start. California covers a lot of ground. It’s like looking for a needle in a thousand-mile-wide haystack. Impossible.”

  This irked Cal as he didn't like to lose, and this would be a mark on an otherwise untarnished record at the agency. It sure as hell didn’t sit right with him. He knew he should have refused this assignment from the beginning. Right then, when he discovered he couldn’t stand hide nor hair of the man sitting in front of him.

  “Here take a look through this list. It's the last one left. I’ve gone through hundreds and narrowed it down to these possible names.” Cal held out the documents.

  Wyatt snatched the list of names out of Cal’s hand. Cal’s brows narrowed and his jaw clenched. He took a seat before he did something bad. Although he wouldn’t regret it, he could lose his career over it, and Wyatt Worthington wasn't worth his future at the agency. If nothing else, he loved his job. He was a rising star, and he wanted to keep it that way.

  To calm his nerves while Wyatt checked through the list, Cal's mind went back ten months to the cute filly he’d met at his cousin’s guesthouse. She was maybe going to California; he’d got that much out of her. He’d hoped to run into her again over the months he’d spent traipsing back and forth. But it didn't happen. Maybe she didn’t go there after all.

  He'd checked his mail with such excitement the first few months—before giving up the idea she had any intentions of corresponding with him.

  Maybe she didn't find him genteel enough for her. It was times like these he sometimes felt he should display the upbringing he had, and act more like the idiot sitting in front of him, but that was not the Dalton way. We are what we are. He was raised as a gentleman, but was encouraged to follow his dreams.