A Daughter's Inheritance (12 page)

Michael pressed by the women with one of the trunks in his cart. He didn’t care to hear any more of this discussion. He had started up the path when Theresa caught up with him.

“Can I help you with that heavy load?”

Michael shook his head and continued pushing. “No. It’s easier for one person to push, but thanks. There might be some other items down there you could carry.”

She ignored his suggestion and continued alongside him. “How long have you lived here, Michael?”

“All my life.”

“How can you stand it? I mean growing up all alone on this island with no one to talk to or play with?”

Michael laughed. “I was never bored. Besides, I had two older brothers to keep me company while I was young. Now one of them lives in Canada and the other in Delaware. They were anxious to leave, but I love this island. I have no desire to live elsewhere.”

Theresa’s dark unbound tresses blew about her face, and she brushed the strands behind her ears. “Well, I suppose that’s a good thing for the Broadmoors. They don’t have to worry about finding a replacement for you.”

Perhaps Theresa could answer some of his burning questions. He wondered if he should broach the topic of Mr. Broadmoor’s death. “How long have you worked for the family, Theresa?”

She shrugged. “It seems like I’ve always worked for them in some capacity. Mother was working for Mr. Jonas and his wife when I was born. My father died when I was five years old. The Broadmoors didn’t want to lose Mother, so they permitted her to move into the house and me along with her. As you heard, she was delighted when Miss Victoria listed me as one of the servants to come here this year.” She lowered her voice. “I truly was surprised. I thought with Mr. Broadmoor’s death they’d all be wearing their mourning clothes and not care about parties and the like.”

Michael raised his brows. “And?”

“Mr. Broadmoor said in his will that he didn’t want them mourning him.” She stepped closer. “He said they hadn’t cared about him while he was alive, so they didn’t need to mourn his death.”

“He said that?”

“Well, something along that line. The servants weren’t invited into the library to hear the reading of the will and such. But Treadwell, he’s the head butler at Broadmoor Mansion, was close enough to the doors to hear most everything that was said.”

While Theresa held the door open, Michael hoisted the trunk and carried it inside. Theresa pointed to the trunk. “That one belongs to Miss Fanny. You can put it in whichever room is hers.”

Throughout the remainder of the unloading, Theresa remained by Michael’s side. She carried an occasional basket or pretended to help him with a trunk. It was a charade to avoid helping her mother in the kitchen, he decided. He didn’t object, for Theresa seemed to enjoy talking more than most anything else. His simple questions were answered with lengthy, informative replies. Theresa was a virtual fount of details. He’d learned more about Mr. Broadmoor’s death and the family’s reaction to it in the past hour than the other servants would have divulged over the next two months.

“Since this is my first time on the island, why don’t you take me for a tour, Michael? Once the family arrives, I doubt I’ll have much free time for exploration.”

Theresa’s interest in the island pleased him, and he agreed to meet her once he’d completed his chores. When he returned to the house a short time later, she was waiting outside.

She formed her lips into a tiny moue. “I thought you’d forgotten me. It’s been nearly an hour.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I needed to complete my chores and secure the boat in the boathouse. But I have enough time that we should be able to walk a good portion of the island. Does your mother know you’re going with me?”

“She’s busy preparing menus with your mother. They won’t miss us.” She skipped ahead of him. “Tell me what it’s like living here. I’m amazed that this house is even bigger than the mansion in Rochester.”

“It was built that way because the entire family comes here every summer. Each family is accustomed to being in their own home, so Mr. Broadmoor wanted to be certain there would be adequate space when they gathered under one roof. That’s what my mother told me when I was a little boy.” He grinned. “I can’t imagine they truly need all this space, but the men who build these houses aren’t happy unless they are huge.”

“Status. They all want to outdo one another,” Theresa said. “They act the same way in Rochester. One after another, they build their enormous houses along East Avenue. Perhaps I would do the same if I possessed their wealth.”

Michael led Theresa to an outcropping of rocks that overlooked the water and assisted her as she sat down. “Not me. If I had enough money, I’d buy my own island.” He pointed toward the diverse plots of land that dotted the river like a hodgepodge of stepping-stones. “I’d be happiest with even the smallest piece of land out there. No big house or steam launch needed. I’d settle for a tent and a canoe or skiff—at least until winter set in. Then I might build something a little more substantial.”

Theresa laughed. “You must want more out of life than a small island and a tent.”

“A woman to love me and children someday.” At the mention of marriage and children, he pictured Fanny. She would make the perfect wife for him—if only . . .

Theresa tickled his ear with a wild violet. “And who might you be thinking of as a mother for those children you hope to have one day?” She tucked her knees beneath her chin and batted her lashes.

“That’s not yet been decided. Most of the girls who live on the islands or in the villages can’t wait to move to a large city, and the girls who come here to vacation are wealthy socialites. I may never find the perfect woman.” He glanced toward the sun. “I need to get back. There will be things needing my attention with the family soon arriving.”

Theresa took his outstretched hand and jumped up from the rock. With a sharp cry, she clenched his hand. Michael attempted to grab her other hand as she toppled to the ground. “I’ve twisted my ankle.” She lifted the hem of her skirt.

The ankle hadn’t yet begun to swell. Michael carefully removed her shoe and gently moved her foot until she yelped in pain. “I doubt it’s broken, but I can’t be certain. Let’s see if you can sustain any weight on it.” He complimented Theresa on her brave attempts, but from her anguished cries, he didn’t think she could walk back to the house.

She tilted her head to the side and looked up at him. “Perhaps you could carry me—if I don’t weigh too much.”

Michael surveyed her form and laughed. “I doubt I’ll have much trouble. You’re no bigger than a minute. Since the terrain is rough, maybe it would be best if I carried you on my back. I won’t be able to see as well with you in my arms.”

She gave him a momentary pout, but then agreed. Though riding on his back would not prove the most ladylike position, Michael didn’t want to chance a further injury. He was afraid Mrs. O’Malley wouldn’t be pleased when her daughter returned with a swollen ankle. And if Theresa wasn’t up and about by tomorrow, he imagined the Broadmoor women would be displeased, also.

Theresa’s hands were clasped around his neck, and he could feel her breath on his ear as they continued toward the house. She was good company—not like Fanny but nice. “We’ll need to get ice on your ankle.”

“You’re panting. I’m heavier than you thought, aren’t I?” She giggled. “You can say so. I promise I won’t be angry.”

He shook his head and rounded the corner of the house. “I’d never admit—” At the sound of laughter and voices, he glanced up, straightened, and nearly dropped Theresa to the ground. “Fanny! When did all of you arrive? I mean, how did you get to the island?” The entire Broadmoor family stood in the path before him. One glance at the river and Michael knew they had ferried from Clayton on the
Little Mac
.

Theresa wiggled and then whispered in his ear. “You can put me down, Michael.”

He lowered her onto the steps leading to the rear of the house while the family continued onward. “I thought you weren’t to arrive until tomorrow. Mrs. O’Malley said . . .”

Jonas Broadmoor looked over the top of his glasses. “And I decided we would arrive today.” He turned a cold stare on Theresa. “Don’t the two of you have duties to perform? I’m not paying you to play about in the woods.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir, we weren’t playing about. Theresa fell, and . . .”

Mr. Broadmoor continued walking, obviously not interested in an explanation, but Michael didn’t fail to see the look of betrayal in Fanny’s eyes. He must talk to her. Goodness, but she was more beautiful than ever.

“Michael!”

His mother was calling from the kitchen, Theresa was injured, Mr. Broadmoor was angry, and he’d obviously caused Fanny pain. On his way up the steps he promised to return with ice for Theresa’s ankle. So far it was a glorious beginning to the summer.

Mrs. O’Malley was down the steps in a flash, without the ice. Michael and his mother followed close behind.

“So you’re already thinking to get out of some work, are you?” Mrs. O’Malley was standing on the step below her daughter. “Let me see that foot.” She lifted Theresa’s skirt, wiggled the ankle, and pointed a finger under the girl’s nose. “Put your shoe on and get upstairs. There’s nothing wrong with your foot.”

Theresa didn’t attempt to argue. She shoved her foot into the shoe, laced it up, and followed her mother up the stairs. With a grin and a shrug, she strode past Michael.

“There’s no time for romancing Theresa O’Malley.” His mother’s brows knit together in a frown. “We’ve enough problems with the family arriving unexpectedly, Michael. You know better.”

Without giving him an opportunity to explain, his mother marched back up the steps to begin meal preparations for the unexpected family members. He sat down on the steps and rested his head in his hands.

“I see you and Theresa have become fast friends.”

He startled and lifted his head at the sound of Fanny’s voice. “Fanny! I’m so glad you’ve come outdoors. Would you let me explain?”

“There’s nothing to explain, Michael. Theresa injured herself and you were kind enough to assist her.”

“Well, that’s what I thought until Mrs. O’Malley chided Theresa and declared the injury a hoax. After watching her scurry up the stairs, I realized I’d been duped. I wanted to explain so you wouldn’t think I’m courting her.”

Fanny smiled. “I’ve known Theresa for many years. Further explanation isn’t necessary. She’s a nice girl who is anxious to wed and begin a life of her own.”

Michael changed the subject. “I was sorry to hear about your grandfather. We didn’t know he had died until I went into town yesterday to pick up supplies. One of the shop owners told me.”

“Uncle Jonas didn’t send word?”

“No, but that’s not what’s important now. How are you doing, Fanny? I can hardly believe my eyes. You’re all grown up.”

“For all the good it’s done me,” she declared. “My life seems to constantly be in the hands of others to order about.”

He listened while she told him she’d been forced to move from the mansion and that her uncle Jonas had been appointed her guardian and the trustee of her estate. “He wants me to go on a grand tour of Europe, but I truly want to remain here—on the island.”

“Would your uncle agree to such an arrangement?”

Fanny tucked a curl behind her ear. “Not without proper supervision. Even then, I’m not sure he’d agree. He’s angry that I inherited my father’s share of the estate, and I think he’s determined to force me to bend to his will until I’ve reached my majority.”

Michael rubbed his jaw. “It’s lonely out here on the island once all the summer people return home.”

“I know what it’s like, Michael. Don’t you recall the many summers when my grandparents and I would arrive well ahead of the family and remain at least a month after they’d all departed? I enjoy the solitude and beauty of these islands as much as you do.”

He didn’t dare tell her he remembered every minute of every day that she’d spent on this island with him. When they were young, he’d been like an older brother to her. Sitting under the trees with a picnic lunch and reading books together, teaching her how to thread a worm onto her fishing hook and then how to remove the fish, exploring the river in her grandfather’s skiff and finding caves beneath the rock outcroppings—he remembered it all.

“Do you think your parents might agree to take on the responsibility of providing proper supervision?” she asked. “We could talk to them, and if they thought it was a feasible plan, perhaps they could help convince Uncle Jonas. After all, I’ll be eighteen in March.”

“We’ve nothing to lose by asking them, but I think we should wait a few days. Your family wasn’t expected until tomorrow, and Mother won’t want to think about anything except food preparations.”

“Thank you, Michael.” She glanced toward the house. “I better go back inside before I’m missed, but I’m looking forward to a picnic very soon.”

He nodded his agreement and then watched her return to the house, his thoughts jumbled. Fanny was now an heiress with a vast amount of money. To some, that might be exciting news. To Michael, it meant only one thing: the chasm between them had grown even wider. Unless he could find some way to bridge that gulf, she would be lost to him forever.

8

Wednesday, July 7, 1897

Jonas sat beside Quincy in one of the outlook rooms in the castle turret. He’d been anxious to speak with his brother privately, but since his father’s death, either they were surrounded by other members of the family or Quincy would sneak off and return to his Home for the Friendless, which remained a matter of contention between the brothers. But Jonas was determined to present a magnanimous spirit this day. He wanted his brother as an ally.

Jonas settled into one of the heavy leather chairs and puffed on his cigar. “It’s only early July, and already this has proved to be a summer of difficulties. Let’s hope our troubles will soon ease.”

Quincy fixed his gaze on a freighter moving downriver. “I won’t be able to spend much time on the island, Jonas. I know the provisions of Father’s will require the men of the family to devote as much time as possible to the family during the summer, but I’m sure you understand that if I’m to keep the shelter afloat, I must be absent a great deal during the week.”