Dawn's Prelude (13 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: Dawn's Prelude
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Mitchell looked indignant. “And you’re only now sharing it with us? Why the delay?”

“There seemed no reason to rush the matter, and there were other issues that needed to be dealt with. As you know, Mrs. Gray had already agreed to let you take possession of the house and the belongings there within. Of course, we were forced to delay until the court decisions were handed down, but now that this has been established, I believe you will agree that it is time to see this case through to conclusion.”

Marston crossed his arms. “Very well. Continue.”

Robinson focused once again on the paper. “Mrs. Gray has decided to settle most generously with you.”

This comment did not surprise Evie. Lydia had never been a vindictive person. She had often made some effort on behalf of Evie or Jeannette, even knowing her actions would not bode well for her own comfort.

“The property and belongings are yours to share equally amongst you. The stocks and bonds held by your father prior to his marriage to Lydia Rockford are also to be returned to you to be shared.”

“And what of the businesses?” Mitchell questioned.

“The Gray furniture business and that of the Rockfords were merged to create the Rockford and Gray’s Casket Company. Then there are the smaller business concerns of your father, such as the freighting company and the two mortuaries.” Robinson drew a deep breath and paused to consult his paper once again.

Mitchell’s impatience got the better of him. “Get on with it, man.”

“Mrs. Gray has agreed to return the freight business interests and mortuaries to the Gray family. Rockford and Gray’s Casket Company, however, will remain in her control, via operational managers that she will appoint through my counsel.”

“Never!” Mitchell jumped to his feet. “I will not stand for this.”

Robinson looked at him for a moment, then glanced back to the paper. “Where did I leave off?”

“Did you not hear me? This is unacceptable,” Mitchell declared.

He leaned forward on Robinson’s desk and was nearly nose to nose with the man. “Rockford and Gray’s Casket Company will not be given over to that woman.”

“I’m afraid you have no further say in the settlement,” Robinson declared. He took off his glasses and relaxed back against his chair. For a moment, he studied Marston and Mitchell.

Evie couldn’t help but wonder what the lawyer was thinking. It was obvious Lydia had been most generous with her family. There would be thousands of dollars to share between the children of Floyd Gray, but still it was not enough for her greedy siblings.

“I believe now would be a good time to bring in my associate,” Robinson said, getting to his feet. He walked to the closed office door and opened it. “Mr. Sterling, would you join us, please?”

Nash Sterling entered the office, looking for all the world like a man afraid of his own shadow. Evie felt sorry for him as her brothers turned accusing eyes on the man. Sterling nodded in greeting but said nothing. He took a seat as far from the others as possible and seemed to cower there as Mr. Robinson rejoined them.

“Mr. Sterling and I have been in communication regarding the settlement. He has supervised the drawing up of the paperwork and is here to advise you at this time for the signing of said papers.”

“I won’t sign anything,” Mitchell declared. He stalked back to his seat and plopped down like a spoiled child who hadn’t been allowed pudding with his supper.

“Gentlemen, ladies, I have to say that Mrs. Gray has been quite considerate of your family. Should you reject this offer, I will advise her to pull any further offers from the table.”

Marston uncrossed his arms. “And if we agree to this, how soon will the transfer take place? She told us last April that she was yielding the house and its possession, yet you put a stop to that before we could do anything about it.”

“The transfer would take place immediately. That is why Mr. Sterling is here. I felt it would behoove all of us to settle this amicably and quickly.”

Marston nodded. “Very well.”

Mitchell looked to Marston in stunned silence.

“Does this mean there will be funds immediately?” Jeannette questioned.

“If a sale of the house and goods takes place immediately, there will be,” Robinson replied. “Your brothers will, no doubt, advise you in such matters.”

“We will,” Marston said. “Now let me consider the papers you’ve drawn up.”

“I can’t believe you agreed to any of that,” Mitchell said. He sat nursing a brandy in Marston’s office.

Marston shook his head. “There was nothing else to be done.

Do you suppose I’ve sat idle while Sterling handled all of this? I had other lawyers researching and exploring our possibilities. The fact of the matter is that unless we can somehow force Lydia to do otherwise, we are at her mercy.”

It was ironic, really. For years, she had been forced to yield to their desires, and now she held the cards. He stirred sugar into his coffee and pondered.

The key to the entire situation was to locate Lydia. Robinson was still unwilling to explain where she had gone. He obviously didn’t want the Grays to have any contact with her. He was smart in that decision, and Marston had to give the man credit. Robinson no doubt knew that Marston and his brother would do whatever it took to regain their father’s entire fortune.

“Will you not even discuss the matter?” Mitchell asked.

Marston looked at him, then took a long sip of the steaming coffee. The liquid burned slightly, but Marston almost welcomed the pain. “I’m considering what is to be done. You would do well to stop blabbering and do likewise.”

“But you simply agreed to the offering. You didn’t fight back in any way.” The accusation in Mitchell’s tone was clear.

“And what would you have had me do? Reject the offer and delay our benefits for that much longer? To me, it seemed reasonable to take what we could get at this point and go after the rest at another time. Lydia hasn’t heard the last of us, to be sure, but now we are free to sell the house and other properties. We can cash in the stocks, or at least reinvest them in our own names, and get Jeannette and her husband off of our backs.”

“And then what?”

Marston smiled. “Then we continue with our plans. I’m still not so sure that our original idea to get Lydia to marry me is such a bad one. She will need persuading, of course, but there are ways to entice her.”

“That will be much harder now that she’s financially independent. She doesn’t need our kindness to see her through.”

Marston put the cup down and nodded. “It will be more difficult, but that doesn’t mean it will prove to be impossible. What we need is a solid plan.”

“You both look exceptionally beautiful,” Kjell said as Lydia and Zerelda entered the main room of the cabin.

“I certainly didn’t come to Sitka with a thought to attending a ball every month, but Zerelda assured me that this simple gown would once again suffice,” Lydia told him. “Even though I wore it last month at Mrs. Ensign’s ball.”

“You look perfect,” Kjell replied. “That color suits you.”

Lydia touched the bodice of the burnished copper–colored dress. “I thought here in the wilds of the north country, such fashion worries would be happily absent.”

“You sound as though you don’t enjoy such things. Most women like to show off their pretty dresses at a good party.”

Zerelda laughed and pulled on a shawl. “Lydia has become quite the wallflower, I’m afraid. She prefers quiet nights at the fire’s side with a book and a cup of warm milk.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” Kjell admitted. The only thing he would have changed about the scene was to insert himself alongside Lydia during one of those private evenings at home. He couldn’t deny his attraction to her. He longed to know her better.

Lydia said very little on the way to the residence, and once there, Kjell found her quickly whisked away to dance with a bevy of officers from the fort. Zerelda, too, became an instant focus of attention, and before he realized it, Kjell was standing alone.

He watched Lydia waltzing with first one man and then another.

She smiled and made conversation with each person, but Kjell could sense she was not truly enjoying herself. He still wondered about her past and the pain that had been inflicted upon her.

Lydia never talked about anything to do with her dead husband, but Zerelda had indicated the situation had been horrific.

The music stopped, and Lydia and her partner stopped directly to his right. Kjell had thought to claim Lydia for the next dance, but to his surprise, she approached him first.

“I hope you won’t think me forward, but I wonder if you might escort me outside for a bit of air.” She reached for her wrap hanging by the front door.

He smiled. “I’d be happy to.” Extending his arm, he felt her place her small hand in the crook of his elbow.

“You aren’t leaving us, are you?” one of the officers questioned when Kjell led Lydia to the door.

“We’ll return, never fear. The lady would like a bit of air.” Kjell’s explanation seemed to assuage the man’s concerns. He stepped aside and let them pass into the coolness of the night.

Lydia shivered as they stepped onto the porch, and Kjell realized she was still holding her woolen shawl. “Here, let me help you.” He took hold of the wrap and secured it around her shoulders. In doing so, he allowed his arm to linger around her for just a moment.

“Will it snow soon?” she asked.

“In the mountains, perhaps, but not down here—not yet. We get more rain than snow. It actually stays pretty mild throughout the winter. Some years are worse than others, of course, but for the most part, we make out all right.”

Lydia nodded. “I remember Zerelda saying something to that effect. I suppose I had forgotten. It snowed back in Kansas City most winters. It wasn’t always deep or long lasting, but we generally had some.”

“Is it a large city?” Kjell asked, hoping she would feel free to discuss the past with him.

Lydia considered his question for a moment. “It is. Much too large to suit me after living here. I thought I might miss it, but I don’t. Here I find myself feeling a . . . a sense of coming home.” She gave a small laugh. “There’s a peace here that I’ve never experienced. Sitka somehow fills an emptiness inside me. I suppose that sounds silly.”

“Not at all,” Kjell assured her.

“So now I’ve answered a question. Will you do the same for me?” she asked.

“Certainly.” He grinned. “What would you like to know?”

“Kjell. What does that mean—what kind of name is it?”

“It’s Swedish. It’s from the word
kettil
, meaning caldron or kettle. Why do you ask?”

“I suppose because it’s so foreign to me.” Lydia gave him a smile. “But now I have answered two of your questions, so you must take another of mine.”

He leaned back against the house and shrugged. “You can ask me anything. I don’t mind at all. My life is pretty much what you see.”

Lydia was silent for several minutes, and Kjell thought she’d changed her mind. When she did speak, he was surprised by her request.

“Tell me about your wife.”

“Raisa? Well, she was from a Russian family who had moved here from the old country to run a flour mill. I met her first when she was fourteen. I was twenty at the time and didn’t give her much attention. A couple of years passed, however, and I started to notice her plenty.” He laughed. “She was like no other girl I’d ever known. She had a natural happiness that seemed to make life easier for everyone around her. That’s not to say she didn’t have moments of sadness. When her parents returned to Russia, she was devastated. I didn’t want to leave Sitka. My mother had just died, and I wasn’t yet ready to say good-bye to all I’d known here.

I suppose now, looking back, it was selfish of me. Probably the most selfish decision I’ve ever made.”

“If that’s the worst choice you’ve made, you’ve fared better than most,” Lydia said, her voice barely audible. “I’ve known selfish men, and that hardly measures up.”

“It hurt her just the same. She knew her place was with me, but she longed for her family. They were all very close. By the time I was ready to consider the possibility of leaving, Raisa took ill.

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