A Daughter's Inheritance (14 page)

“You may be exaggerating just a wee bit,” Amanda said.

“And how would you know, Amanda? Your mother is constantly at your beck and call. You don’t know what it’s like to be ignored by your mother. While Mother was alive, my father spent all his time working for Grandfather and was seldom home. As for me, I don’t miss either of them.”

“Sophie Broadmoor! How can you say you don’t miss your mother?” Amanda clucked her tongue.

“You can’t miss what you never had.” Sophie’s rebuttal dripped with sarcasm.

“That’s not true,” Fanny declared. “I never knew my mother, but I feel a deep longing in the pit of my stomach at the very thought of her. You were fortunate to have your mother for so many years. One day you’ll agree with me. And you should make an effort to spend time with your father, too. If something should happen to him, you’ll regret not having made the effort.”

Sophie groaned. “Haven’t you become the idealistic soul! My father is so consumed with his Home for the Friendless that I could disappear from the face of the earth and months would pass before he even realized I was gone.”

“You do have a flare for the dramatic,” Amanda said with a chuckle. “And if your father is so uncaring, why does he provide aid to the homeless and why does he make an appearance on the island during the middle of the week? My father seldom arrives until Saturday afternoon and departs on Sunday evening or Monday morning. He’s rarely on the island, yet I don’t condemn him as heartless.”

“I suppose that’s because you’re a better person than I am. And don’t think my father is here because he’s interested in my welfare. Do you see that young man he met at the dock only a few minutes ago?”

Fanny and Amanda strained forward and watched their uncle crossing the lawn with a young man they’d never before seen. Fanny cupped her hand over her eyes and squinted. “Who is he? I don’t believe I’ve met him.”

“You haven’t. He’s Paul Medford, father’s new protégé and a recent graduate of Bangor Theological Seminary. You’ll notice Father has scads of time for Paul. He clings to every word young Mr. Medford utters.”

“He works for your father? Doing what?” Amanda asked.

Sophie turned her back on the two men as they continued toward the house. “Father advertised in the newspaper and contacted several divinity schools, stating he planned to hire a man to live at the shelter—someone who had a heart for ministering to the less fortunate and was willing to reside on the grounds with all those
friendless
people he takes in.” Sophie wrinkled her nose. “According to Father, Paul is a gift from God, a man who seeks nothing more from life than helping his fellow man. The man is a true bore. He thinks of nothing but God and those wretched people who live at the shelter.”

“I think he’s quite handsome,” Fanny remarked.

“I find him somewhat plain,” Amanda observed, “but I’m sure he must be very kind.”

“I suppose because I am rather plain, I attempt to find beauty in the simple,” Fanny said.

Amanda chuckled. “You are far from plain. With your beautiful skin, those auburn curls, and beautiful brown eyes, you are a beauty.”

Fanny didn’t argue with her cousin. If the conversation continued, they would think she was begging for compliments, but compared to her cousins, she was very ordinary.

Sophie leaned close to Amanda. “Paul would be perfect for you, Amanda. Just like you, he thinks people should spend all their time serving mankind through charitable works.”

Fanny leaned against the tree while her cousins argued about Paul Medford and Amanda’s aspirations to perform charitable work. They all three realized the one who would have the final say in Amanda’s future would be Uncle Jonas. They also understood that he wouldn’t agree to his daughter’s seeking a career. He would expect Amanda to wed. He would insist her husband be a man of wealth and position, regardless of Amanda’s personal desires or the physical appearance of her intended. Amanda was his only daughter, and Uncle Jonas would not permit her to marry some beggarly fellow who didn’t meet his expectations. For years, Amanda had worked alongside her mother performing charity work, and her mother knew of her desire to continue with such endeavors. But her father had also made his desires known: she could perform her charity work as a married woman, just as her mother had done before her.

A passing launch drew close to the water’s edge, and several of their friends waved and hollered greetings. “They’re likely on their way to Hopewell Hall. I do wish my sister would have chosen some other day for her arrival. You might know that she had to select the day when the Brownings are hosting their party.” Sophie pulled a handful of grass and tossed it into the air.

“We’ll be attending parties, dances, and picnics all summer long, Sophie. You may as well cheer up. Your continued pouting hurts no one except yourself.” Amanda waved to the group as they continued down the river. “And I’d think you’d want to offer a show of support for Louisa. Life can’t be easy for her with three little children and so recently a widow, too.”

“Louisa should have no difficulty. Her husband left her with a handsome inheritance. She had best keep her purse strings tied or Father will be seeking a large contribution for his Home for the Friendless.”

“Sophie! What a terrible thing to say.” Amanda frowned at her cousin. “You’ve become quite disparaging of late, and it doesn’t suit you well.”

“Say what you will. I know my father. He had Paul arrive today so it would coincide with Louisa’s arrival. Oh, what if he’s planning some wild matchmaking scheme between the two of them? Now wouldn’t
that
make for an interesting summer!”

Fanny couldn’t believe Sophie’s flippant attitude. “Louisa’s husband has been dead for less than a year. Your father would never consider such a thing.”

Sophie pulled her hair off her neck and bunched it together atop her head. “You must admit it’s a delicious idea. If Amanda has no interest in Paul, I shall mention him as a possibility to Louisa myself.”

“You wouldn’t! Promise me you’ll do no such thing.” Fanny reached across Amanda and grasped Sophie’s arm. “If you’re angry with your father, then talk to him, but don’t add to your sister’s pain and bereavement with such irresponsible antics.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re correct. Louisa isn’t to blame for our father’s behavior.”

Fanny gave a sigh of relief. She couldn’t believe her cousin would entertain such a foolish idea. Then again, after hearing of Sophie’s behavior at the Independence Day party, Fanny knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Obviously, the breach between Sophie and her father had widened considerably during the past year. It seemed Sophie hoped to gain her father’s attention with her outlandish behavior. Instead, he seemed even more distant and aloof.

“It appears your sister has arrived while we’ve been discussing her future.” Amanda pointed toward the dock. Louisa was holding a child by each hand as the
Little Mac
slowly moved away from the dock.

Sophie shaded her eyes and looked. “I suppose we should go down and see if she needs our help.”

When Sophie made no move to get up, Fanny jumped to her feet. She extended her hand and helped Amanda up from the grassy slope. “Come on, Sophie. Let me help you up.”

“There’s no rush. And where are the servants? Don’t they see her down there with her luggage and the children?” Sophie slowly got to her feet. Before heading off with her cousins, she stopped to fold the blankets and stack them beneath the tree.

The wails of the little boys were carried on a rush of wind as they walked alongside their mother. Louisa bent down to pick up one of the boys, and the other immediately ran from her side. The child fell as he reached the graveled path, and the nanny hurried to lend aid to Louisa and the injured child.

“Hurry, Sophie. Louisa needs our help with the children and her baggage,” Fanny shouted. A sudden wind whipped at the girls’ skirts, and whitecaps crested the breaking waves. “There’s a storm moving in. We’d better get the luggage before it begins to rain.”

They hurried toward the dock as another gale of wind swooped down from the sloping path. Slowly but then beginning to gather a trace of speed, the unattended baby carriage rolled down the dock. Fear clawed at Fanny’s throat. “Is the baby in there?” She gasped for air. “Did the nanny have the baby in her arms?”

Amanda’s blond tresses whipped about her face. She clawed at the hair and held it from her eyes. “I don’t think so.
Hurry!
” Fanny sprinted at full speed with Amanda and Sophie on her heels. A roar of wind muted their urgent screams for help. Fanny squinted. Surely her eyes deceived her. The buggy had picked up speed. Without slowing her pace, Fanny uttered an urgent prayer for the child who might be lying in the buggy. Her shoes clattered and echoed on the dock’s wood planks. Her screams continued. If she could only lengthen her stride, she would reach the buggy before it plunged into the water.

She stretched in a mighty leap, but the toe of her shoe caught between the planks as she landed. She hurtled forward, unable to gain her balance. A keening wail escaped her lips, and she could do nothing more than watch the carriage topple into the dark water below.

10

Michael was in the boathouse when he heard the first scream. More screams followed and sent him running from the shelter up the path toward the house, where he saw several people yelling and pointing at the river.

Fanny was lying prone on the dock, her arms stretched toward the end of the structure. He turned and saw what appeared to be a carriage dropping off the end of the pier and into the water. Horrified, he raced to the dock’s edge and jumped into the water. The buggy had tipped sideways in the water, and the hazy sun cast an eerie shadow across a pale blue blanket. Michael fought his way through a surging wave and grasped the object. He lifted the bundle into the air and was greeted by a howling cry. Jumping to avoid a wave that threatened to toss him off his feet and the baby into the chest-high water, Michael struggled to maintain his balance while holding the infant. He leaned forward and fought against the current that pummeled and pushed him toward the wood pilings supporting the dock.

“Michael! Can you move this way so I can reach the baby?” With her cousins holding her legs, Fanny lay flat on the dock and stretched her arms over the edge.

Easing his foothold, Michael allowed the current to move him toward the dock. The wind briefly abated and he lifted the baby high into Fanny’s hands before ducking beneath the deck and grabbing hold of a wood piling on the other side. He worked his way forward into the shallows and then hefted himself onto the dock. Keeping his wits about him, Michael spotted the buggy, now wedged in a stand of rocks not far from the dock. After retrieving a pole from alongside the pier, he freed the soggy carriage from the rocky crevice.

The wind snatched Mrs. Clermont’s flower-bedecked hat and bounced it across the lawn as she raced toward the dock. From the terror reflected in her eyes, it was obvious she’d observed the frightening scene. “Evan! Is he all right?” Her scream pierced the air.

Several family members followed behind carrying blankets while Mrs. Clermont shouted commands and clutched the infant to her chest. She grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around the wet child.

Michael sat hunched on the edge of the dock. Mrs. Clermont slowed her pace and stepped to his side. “Thank you for saving my child. Once the baby is cared for and asleep, I shall speak with you.”

The staff and family members who had continued to scurry to the dock during the incident now gathered around Mrs. Clermont. While the group walked toward the house as one huddled mass of humanity, Michael was left to consider the woman’s final comment. She had thanked him, but did she expect some explanation of what had occurred? If so, he surely couldn’t tell her. He’d not observed anything until the carriage careened into the water. Surely she didn’t hold him responsible. After all, she
had
thanked him for saving the baby. He forced himself upright. Right now there wasn’t time to dwell on the matter.

The storm clouds and rough gales had continued to build with surprising ferocity, and unless the wind turned, the water would soon be rising. Though he longed to change out of his wet clothes, he couldn’t spare the time. He must secure the boats.

While the nanny rushed off to unpack dry clothing for the infant, Louisa fiercely rubbed his tiny limbs with a soft towel. With each wail, the baby’s lower lip quivered, but the bluish purple shade had now vanished from his lips. His rosy complexion had been restored—due either to Louisa’s robust toweling or to the fact that his body temperature had returned to normal. Fanny couldn’t be certain where to assign credit.

Sophie held her fingers to her ears. “That baby certainly has healthy lungs, doesn’t he?”

Louisa glanced up at her sister. “Yes, and his name is Evan— not
that baby.
”

“I don’t need your criticism, Louisa.” Sophie glared at her sister. “If it weren’t for the three of us, he’d have drowned in the river.”

“I believe it was that young man on the dock who saved Evan, not you.”