11
Wednesday, December 15, 1897
Fanny unfolded her napkin and tucked it onto her lap while attempting to avoid Daniel’s attention. He had arrived moments earlier and had asked to speak to Uncle Jonas. Her aunt had invited him to join them for breakfast. Unfortunately, Aunt Victoria directed him to the chair beside Fanny. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed Fanny could not escape Daniel. She caught Amanda’s eye, receiving a sympathetic look in return.
Her uncle offered his usual morning prayer over their food, but Fanny wondered if he truly meant what he said. The prayer seemed little more than hollow words. On the other hand, she ought not to judge her uncle; sometimes her prayers were no more than mechanical recitations. Of late, she’d attempted to make her prayers a conversation with God, which seemed to work much better. Except at night, when she would fall asleep in the midst of her private one-way discussions.
Her uncle motioned for the maid to begin serving, and while the platter of ham and sausage circled the table, Daniel made mention of the light snow that had begun to fall.
Upon hearing his weather report, Aunt Victoria perked to attention. “We need to begin planning the family Christmas celebration. Goodness, but it’s only ten days away.”
“Oh, must we discuss this over breakfast, Victoria?” Uncle Jonas jabbed a piece of ham and dropped it onto his plate. “You ladies can talk about that later. I don’t need to be a part of a Christmas discussion.”
“Well, you need to help with the decisions. This will be the first Christmas since your father’s death. I thought it would be nice if we hosted the celebration here at our home.”
Jonas grunted. “I think of it more as mayhem than a celebration, but if you want to invite the family here, that’s fine with me.”
Fanny straightened in her chair. “I have an idea.”
Her aunt beamed. “Good! What’s your idea, Fanny?”
“I think we should celebrate Christmas at Broadmoor Mansion. After all, that has been the family tradition for all these years, and there’s no reason we can’t continue to do so. It will help us remember Grandfather and Grand-mère, as well as—”
“That is not a good idea. We’ll host Christmas here.” Jonas signaled for the biscuits.
“But Broadmoor Mansion has been my home since I was an infant.” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed. “I would truly enjoy it if we could host the event there.”
“I see no reason why we couldn’t manage the celebration at the mansion,” Victoria said as she dabbed her napkin at the corner of her mouth. “After all, the servants are still there to help.”
Her uncle gulped the remains of his coffee and cleared his throat. “I’m afraid your plan will not work, Fanny.” He shifted in his chair and focused on his plate. “You may find this news a bit discomfiting, but I sold my parents’ home.” He gave a curt nod. “Broadmoor Mansion no longer belongs to the family.”
Fanny’s fork slipped from her fingers and clanked on the china plate. “Please tell me you are jesting.”
“I’m afraid not. The house sold while you were in England.”
“Why? How could you sell Broadmoor Mansion? Other than Grandfather’s home on Broadmoor Island, the mansion here in Rochester is the only home I’ve ever known. Why wasn’t I told before this?” Her hands shook as she shouted her questions.
“Now, now, Fanny, do calm yourself. It isn’t necessary to shout. I’m certain your uncle will answer all of your questions as well as my own. Won’t you, Jonas?” Anger shone in Aunt Victoria’s eyes.
“You women need to gain control of your emotions. I had no choice in the matter. Liquidation of some assets was necessary in order to make the partial distribution called for under the terms of Father’s will.”
The maid refilled her uncle’s coffee cup and quickly retreated to her station near the sideboard.
“Why wasn’t I advised? I had hoped to purchase the house for myself.” The eggs she’d swallowed only moments earlier now roiled in her stomach. How could her uncle do such a thing?
Amanda chimed in and supported Fanny’s argument. “You know what you did was improper, Father. You should have first spoken to Fanny.”
He shook his head. “The funds were not yet available to her, and the home had to be sold. Telling her would have only caused her greater distress. But if you ladies will permit me a moment without interruption, I think your anger will be assuaged.”
Fanny folded her arms tight around her waist. “I don’t know what you could say to make this better.”
“Before you departed for England, Daniel came to me and professed his love for you, Fanny. I know the house is important to you. It is for that very reason I sold the house to Daniel. Don’t you see? This way you can return to your home again.”
Daniel’s mouth formed an oval. “I don’t know . . . well, I’m not . . .”
“I’m terribly sorry to ruin your surprise, Daniel. But as you can see, with all this talk of Christmas, I had no choice but to reveal the truth.”
Tears streamed down Fanny’s cheeks as she attempted to gain control of her emotions. Amanda rushed to her side and wrapped her in a comforting embrace. “Do take heart, Fanny. If the house is meant to be yours, you will have it one day. I’m certain Father will do everything in his power to help you.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve done, Amanda. Why else would I agree to sell the house to Daniel? I thought the two of them . . .”
Fanny glared at her uncle and pushed away from the table. “This is nonsense! You know I plan to marry Michael. Why would you do such a thing?” She wheeled around toward Daniel. “If this is an attempt to coerce me into marriage, it will not work! It’s Michael I love. I won’t marry Daniel even if he does own Grandfather’s house. Even if Michael should die, I wouldn’t marry him.”
“I was only attempting to help,” her uncle called after her.
Fanny stopped in the doorway. “If this is the way you help, then please don’t ever help me in the future, Uncle Jonas.” Before storming out of the room, she turned toward Daniel. “And I never want to see you again!”
The morning quickly dissolved into chaos, but Jonas wasn’t the least bit concerned. He motioned Daniel to his office, closed the door, and put the pandemonium from his mind. “I know you’re surprised by my announcement regarding the house.”
“To say the least, sir.”
“I had to do something, and this seemed the best idea. In fact, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”
“But, sir, I can’t afford to buy Broadmoor Mansion.” Daniel looked rather upset at the very idea.
Jonas laughed. “Of course you can’t afford it right now, but once you marry my niece, you will have ample funds to purchase it from me. I shall set things in motion for you to be deeded the mansion ahead of time. We can get my attorney to work out the details.”
“But won’t someone object?”
“Who? My brother? He’s too busy with his own affairs, and Fanny is too young to have any say over the matter. Once she calms down, she’ll see the sense in this. She loves that house, and I think this might very well be the one thing we needed to get her to focus her attention on you.”
“I had rather hoped she’d focus her attention on me, because of . . . well . . . her love for me,” Daniel said, sounding like a disappointed little boy.
Jonas rolled his eyes. “We don’t always get things the way we’d like them to be. I’m sure in time you can make the girl fall passionately in love with you, if that’s your desire. Now leave me. I have to write a letter. Say nothing of this to anyone, and if Fanny speaks to you about it . . . well . . . avoid the details and turn her attention to matters of the heart.”
Jonas waited until Daniel had exited the room before sitting down to his desk. While this hadn’t been his first plan of action, it did seem to resolve the dilemma nicely. There would be no more discussion of Fanny moving back to the mansion, nor of her trying to force Jonas to let her buy it
with her share of the inheritance.
“This will buy me time,” he said aloud. He knew there would be a price to pay, but he was more than willing to risk it all for the sake of what he might yet take hold of.
Jonas smiled to himself. “The end will justify my means, to be certain.”
Sophie found her emotions a mix of happiness and sorrow. A year ago in December her mother had died without warning. The year since had proven to be harder on Sophie than she liked to admit. She’d filled it with a variety of activities and ambitions, but nothing had given her much comfort. Well, nothing but Wesley, and that’s where she cushioned her sorrow with joy. She struggled to contain her excitement. She’d thought this day would never come. Wesley’s letter stated he would arrive on the twenty-second of December, and she’d marked off each day on her calendar. Thinking of Wesley had helped her to ignore the anniversary of her mother’s passing. Not that her sisters had made it easy. They loved to moan and mourn. On two different occasions, within days of each other, they had invited Sophie and their father to dinner, only to go on and on in tearful conversations about their loss. It had put Father in a dreadful state and hadn’t helped Sophie much, either. Still, there was always Wesley’s visit to think about.
Now that the day had arrived, her anticipation climbed to new heights. Wondrously, Aunt Victoria had extended an invitation for Wesley to stay in their home. And then she’d offered for Sophie to come and stay with Amanda and Fanny during Wesley’s visit. Things couldn’t have been planned more perfectly had she made the arrangements herself.
She’d placed all of her gowns on the bed. Thankfully, Aunt Victoria had promised she would send Veda to pack Sophie’s clothing and then have the trunks delivered to their house. She simply had no talent when it came to arranging her belongings in bags or trunks. Father had dismissed most of their servants after Mother had died, and it was only at her insistence that he had kept the housekeeper. And just last September he’d added a cook when the housekeeper announced she was unable to keep up with that duty, as well. He hadn’t liked the extra expense, but even Sophie’s sisters reasoned that it was the only way.
After pinning her hat in place, Sophie scribbled a note to remind her father of her whereabouts. He never remembered what she’d told him from one day to the next, and although she had mentioned Wesley’s arrival on several occasions, Sophie doubted he would recall that today was the date she’d been anticipating since arriving back home.
Snow fell in fat, heavy flakes that rapidly covered the deep grooves created by the carriage wheels. The damp cold cut through her heavy cloak, and Sophie shoved her hands deep into her fur muff. In the past, she had always loved the snow, especially at Christmastime, but not now, not today. Not when Wesley was due to arrive. She didn’t want anything to impede his arrival. The thought of seeing him sent a lingering warmth through her midsection. “Please don’t let anything keep him away,” she whispered, snuggling deeper into the cushioned carriage seat.
She’d already purchased and wrapped Christmas gifts for both Fanny and Amanda. Although the family always gathered for Christmas dinner and celebration, gift exchanges were held privately at each home. Years ago someone had declared the family far too large for such an exchange, and the practice had terminated the following year. Sophie was pleased it hadn’t ceased while she was a small child, for she’d always looked forward to the pile of gifts each Christmas and thought it unfair to the young children when the tradition was stopped. Sophie had no say in such family decisions, but she, Amanda, and Fanny had vowed they would never stop exchanging gifts at Christmas and on birthdays—and they hadn’t. Withdrawing her hand from her muff, she pulled the bag that contained the gifts close to her side. She hadn’t entrusted that task to Veda.
Now she must decide what she would give Wesley. She’d been thinking on the matter ever since he had accepted her invitation to spend Christmas in Rochester. Until that morning, she’d had no idea what gift might please him. But when she’d been laying out the items for Veda to pack, her gaze had settled upon the beautifully framed picture of her mother, the one Sophie had kept near her bedside ever since her mother’s death. Having the picture near was a comfort to Sophie. Thinking of Wesley, Sophie knew she’d cherish a picture of him and wondered if he would like one of her. With the distance that separated them, she hoped he would enjoy something that would constantly bring her to mind.
Of course, she didn’t know if she would have sufficient time to have a picture taken, especially if the snow continued to fall. But she hoped to convince her cousins to accompany her into town. If all else failed, she could at least purchase a frame and write a note telling him she would sit for her photograph and mail it to him. Yes, a photograph of her would be the perfect gift. She would ask her cousins for their opinions. If they rejected her idea, Sophie would require them to furnish her with a spectacular substitute. She doubted they could think of quite so perfect a gift.
After bringing the team of horses to a halt in front of her uncle’s home, the carriage driver opened the door. “Careful of your step, miss. It’s slippery on this wet snow.” Sophie clutched his outstretched hand in a tight hold, but the sole of her leather slipper slid from beneath her the moment her foot touched the ground. The carriage driver tightened his grasp while stretching for her other arm with his free hand. He struggled valiantly to keep her upright, but when she grappled for his free hand, her feet slipped from beneath her, and both of them tumbled into the fallen snow. They were a tangled mix of livery wear and silk gown sprawled across the sidewalk like a hideous Christmas decoration.
The driver managed to disentangle himself and, after several gallant attempts, was able to gain a foothold and maintain an upright position. “I’m so sorry, miss. I do hope your cloak protected your dress to some extent.” He forced a smile while assisting her to her feet. “At least the snow is clean, and it permitted us a softer landing.”
“True, but it’s that very snow that caused our fall.” Clinging to the driver’s arm, Sophie rescued her fur muff from the snow.
“That was quite a sight, Sophie. Could you do it again? Jefferson missed it the first time.” Both George and Jefferson stood on the front porch, doubled in laughter.
She leaned down, scooped up a handful of the wet snow, and deftly formed it between her hands. “Don’t let me fall,” she commanded the carriage driver before she circled her arm in a wide arc and hurtled the snowball at her cousins. “Perfect!” she cried when the icy sphere made a direct hit on George’s leg.
He jumped and squealed in pain as the carriage driver looked back and forth between the young men on the porch and his passenger. “Shall I escort you to the front door?”
Sophie gave a nod. “Both of you go inside the house. This poor carriage driver is afraid to come any closer while you’re outside.”
She could see a wide grin split George’s face. “I’d be pleased to come and help you up the walkway, Sophie.” He took several steps toward them, and Sophie pointed a warning finger.
“You best go back into the house, or I’ll be forced to report your uncivilized behavior to your father.”
Jefferson cackled. “Our uncivilized behavior? We merely laughed at you. You’re the one throwing snowballs.”
“Go inside!” Sophie stomped her foot and once again nearly landed on the snow-covered ground. Her cousins chortled with delight while she did a quick shuffle to maintain an upright position. The driver glanced longingly toward his awaiting carriage. No doubt he’d be willing to pay her if he could escape without threat of being pummeled by a snowball.
Her cousins backed slowly toward the front door. When they eventually retreated inside, the driver retrieved Sophie’s bag, containing everything except her gowns, from the carriage and then escorted her up the front steps. She handed him an additional coin from her reticule. After enduring a tumble in the snow and braving the possibility of being bombarded by snowballs from her cousins, he deserved even more, but she must save enoug
h to purchase Wesley’s gift.
The driver touched a finger to his hat and carefully made his way back to the conveyance. Already fresh snow had filled their tracks. After wiping the remains of wet snow from her coat, Sophie proceeded inside, where George and Jefferson awaited her with gleeful smiles.
“You needn’t look so pleased. Both the driver and I could have been injured falling on the sidewalk.”
Jefferson snorted. “Perhaps the driver. He did appear somewhat scrawny. But you, my dear cousin, have ample padding to protect you against any such injury.”
“What?” Hands on hips, Sophie’s elbows jutted forward at an angle that invited confrontation. “Are you saying I’m overly plump?”
Eyes gleaming, they shook their heads in unison. Jefferson pointed at her skirts. “I was referring to your skirts and coat, Sophie.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, shrugging out of her cloak and handing it to the maid, who had apparently heard the flying barbs and come scurrying to the foyer.
“Your coat is quite damp, Miss Sophie. Oh, and your gown, too. Let’s go upstairs and get you out of your wet clothes before you catch your death.” Minnie, Aunt Victoria’s longtime maid, stepped toward the stairway with a determination that caused George and Jefferson to jump out of the way.
Sophie jabbed a finger at Jefferson’s chest when she passed by. “We’ll finish this discussion later,” she hissed.
“Indeed we will,” George replied for both of them, rubbing his leg.
Sophie didn’t miss his meaning. She’d need to be on the lookout each time she left the house. George and Jefferson would likely be lying in wait with a heaping mound of snowballs. She followed Minnie to the upper hallway and into the bedroom adjacent to Amanda’s room.
The maid signaled for Sophie to turn around. “Let me help you out of your gown, and I’ll see that it’s dried, pressed, and returned this afternoon.”
“No.” She wagged her head. “I have nothing else to wear. My trunks aren’t to be delivered until later, and I must go out.”
An Unexpected Love Page 14
