by Jane Peart
Graham cleared his throat. “You see, my dear, the way the law stands, unless specific exceptions are made in a will or provisions made before the death of parents, only male children are eligible to inherit an estate. Your parents were both very wealthy and their combined property and individual wealth amount to an enormous fortune. Unfortunately such wealth breeds unscrupulous claimants, and greedy would-be inheritors often appear on the scene.”
At this point Graham, hands clasped behind his back, began to pace back and forth. Then he halted in front of Avril and, holding her in a gaze both tender and concerned, continued, “In your case, a male claimant, a very distant relative, has come forth to claim the whole estate. That is what we want to discuss with you. You see, if a female child is the sole survivor—as you are—” Again Graham paused. “The inheritance is transferred into the keeping of her husband as her protector—if she marries.”
Graham seemed to be casting about for support, looking first to the two lawyers, then to Judge Cameron. “On the advice of these two gentlemen and of my trusted friends, we have come up with a plan to save your fortune. We could safeguard your inheritance until you reach the age of twenty-one … if you would consent to a marriage.”
“Marriage!” gasped Avril. “But who? Who would want to marry me?”
Graham’s face flushed but he held her eyes steadily. “We have discussed this at length, and it is thought I would be the most logical person. I am already your legal guardian, since your father did leave a witnessed paper to that effect. This would be a marriage on paper only, secretly performed, and later quietly annulled—the purpose being only to protect your rightful inheritance and secure your future.”
“But am I not too young to be married?” Avril looked bewildered.
For the first time Mr. Daniels spoke. “Not if you give your consent … since it has all been explained to you and since you were neither threatened nor persuaded against your will.”
“If you fully understand the reasons we are suggesting this legal step be taken, only your consent is needed,” Mr. Fisher added.
Numb, Avril turned to Auntie May for her reassurance and Mrs. Cameron patted her arm. “What Graham is suggesting, darling, is that you give your consent to a legal ceremony so that he can continue taking care of you until you are old enough to take care of yourself. At twenty-one, you will be a very wealthy young lady, and you can decide then what you want to do with the house, property, and valuable land your dear mama and papa owned and wanted you to have. Otherwise, strangers will get everything. So, you understand, this is for your own good.”
Mr. Daniels then picked up the thread of explanation. “Miss Dumont, this measure will give your guardian greater authority to protect all that belongs to you. It is simply a matter of legality.”
“As the law now reads,” Mr. Fisher followed up, consulting a heavy volume, “ ‘a husband has custody of his wife’s person; total, exclusive, sole ownership of her property—real estate, lands, jewelry, monies, and any other so designated items, chattel and the use thereof, unless previously settled on her by will or placed into a trusteeship if she is a minor.’ In your case, Miss Dumont,” he said, looking up over his spectacles, “this was not done. So, unless you marry immediately, everything that should have been yours to inherit upon your parents’ deaths is in jeopardy.”
“You see, darling, why this formality is necessary—and right away?” Auntie May leaned close to Avril and she was immersed in the scent of roses that always clung to Mrs. Cameron. “It is the only way Graham can do what your dear mama and papa trusted him to do in your behalf.”
“Judge Cameron is legally qualified to perform the ceremony, so there is no need to wait,” added Graham, who had been strangely silent since his introduction of the subject.
Avril focused her large gray-green eyes on Graham. “You? You would marry me?”
Graham’s lean, handsome face reddened slightly. “Yes, but of course it would be understood by all of us that when you are twenty-one, this marriage, which will exist only on paper, can be easily put aside, leaving you free to marry anyone of your choice. It is only a legal guarantee that your home in Mississippi will remain yours as well as the income from the lands belonging to your estate. It will not in any way inhibit your girlhood, your education, or any future matrimonial plans.”
Avril continued to stare wide-eyed at him and for a moment Graham seemed to be struggling for composure.
It was Judge Cameron who came to his rescue. “I’m certain that an intelligent young lady such as you seem to be should have no trouble grasping the importance of the situation. Are there any questions you would like to ask, my dear?”
Auntie May rushed in with an impatient little toss of her head that set the plumes of her bonnet dancing.
“Oh, come now, Hugh,” she admonished her husband, “there’s no need for Avril to understand every tiny detail as long as she knows Graham is doing this for her own good. Listen, darling, all you have to do is sign your name on the papers the lawyers have drawn up. Then we shall just go through the little ceremony in which you and Graham will repeat the words Hugh gives you to say and voilà, you can put it out of your mind. Isn’t that right, Hugh?” “Well, just about—,” answered Mr. Cameron cautiously. Avril did not understand at all, but it didn’t really matter. The one thing of which she was certain was that she wanted to please Graham, whatever that might mean. If he wanted her to sign papers, then that’s what she would do.
Within a few minutes the two of them were standing side by side in front of Judge Cameron, who had put on his spectacles and looked quite imposing. From the scent of roses and the rustle of taffeta, Avril knew that Auntie May was close behind her, flanked by the two lawyers.
Judge Cameron read some words from a small black book, and in a faint voice Avril repeated them after him: “I, Avril Dumont …” followed by the solemn promises that were echoed by Graham in his deep, steady baritone.
Afterwards she placed her wobbly, childish signature under his firm, bold-stroked one on the line Mr. Daniels pointed out after reading the following paragraph slowly aloud:
On this tenth day of September, in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and eight, in the county of Mayfield in Virginia, the marriage of Avril Dumont and Graham Montrose was legally solemnized and so witnessed.
chapter
5
“BUT I DON’T WANT to go away! I don’t want to leave Montclair! I won’t go! I won’t!”
The three adults facing Avril reacted in stunned silence to the girl’s outburst. The first to recover was Clarice Fontayne, who lifted her delicately arched eyebrows knowingly above her unfurled fan.
“Ah, a temper to match the hair,” she remarked in an amused tone.
Auntie May quickly moved toward Avril, who stood quivering with emotion, hands balled into fists, huge gray-green eyes blazing with indignation.
“But, darling, don’t you see it is for your own good? You are much too isolated here—with no young girls of your age for companions. School will be a wonderful experience. So many new things to see and do and learn.”
“I don’t need anything or anyone new! I am perfectly happy! And I’m learning all sorts of things right here at Montclair. We are just teaching Fancy to jump and I am getting much better. Please, Graham, don’t make me go!”
Graham turned pale. He had not expected this violent reaction to the prospect of going away to school. Avril had never behaved in such a defiant manner.
“My dear—,” he began, halted, then tried again, “I believe … we feel … it is thought—”
The eyes staring at him in disbelief suddenly grew bright with tears, and the stubborn little mouth trembled. Graham’s heart wrenched within him. To hurt this dearly loved child was the last thing he wanted. Before he could say more, she gave a rebellious toss of red curls and stamped her foot.
“It’s not fair! I don’t want to go! I shall hate it! If you send me away, I shall never forgive you!”
“Well!” Auntie May let out her breath. “I never dreamed the child would take the idea of boarding school so negatively. I must admit I am more than a little surprised.”
Clarice gave a little laugh, fanning herself. She glanced over at Graham. A lightly mocking smile touched her pretty mouth.
“Graham must have spoiled her extravagantly for her not to think of going away to boarding school as an exciting adventure.”
Graham looked worried. “I hope not. I did not intend—”
“No, of course you did not. These things happen and before long you have ‘l’enfant terrible’ on your hands—unhappy herself, and certainly not a cause of joy to anyone around.”
“I’m afraid Clarice may be right, Graham dear,” May nodded. “Avril has had the run of the place since she came, with no real discipline, no duties expected of her, and most unfortunate of all, no formal studies. A girl with her breeding and background and her future position must be educated.”
Graham did not bother to defend himself. How could he explain to the two ladies that Avril had not needed discipline, that anything he had asked she had done quite willingly, that instead of a problem she had been a pleasure, a cheerful, bright companion, an antidote to his loneliness. He had been more shocked by her outburst than either of them.
“Would you like me to follow her? See if I can talk some sense into her?” May asked anxiously.
Graham shook his head. “No. That is my responsibility. Perhaps we should have prepared her for this, not just sprung it upon her, expecting her to be delighted. I shall talk to her later. But first, I think she should be given time to compose herself.”
“Well, then, we should be off”—Clarice rose and, picking up her gloves, beaded purse, and ivory-handled parasol, gave Graham an amused smile—“and leave Graham to his difficult task.”
May darted an uncertain glance at Graham. “You’re sure I cannot be of any help?”
“Quite sure. At least for now, May. Later, when we ready Avril for her departure, we shall probably need all the help we can get,” he replied, opening the large double doors and allowing the ladies to precede him into the hall.
At the front door May turned back, anxiety puckering her brow. “Are you certain you don’t want me to go up to Avril before we leave?”
Graham glanced toward the upstairs rooms where Avril had fled after the upsetting scene. The line of his jaw was set. “No, thank you, May,” he insisted. “I’ll attend to it.”
“Maybe that would be better,” sighed May. “It’s clear the child adores you.”
Clarice put a slender hand on Graham’s arm and said in a low, teasing voice, “Don’t take it so seriously, mon cher. A child Avril’s age is given to such displays. Melodrama is a tool used to manipulate one like a puppet or a weapon to achieve certain demands. Do not give way. You, after all, are the adult.” She gave him one of her most charming smiles and swept past him on a whiff of expensive perfume.
After his guests’ carriage had rumbled down the driveway and out of sight, Graham remained deep in thought. Looking down, he was surprised to see that he was still holding the booklet on Faith Academy May had brought him. On the cover was a pen and ink sketch of a brick building. Flipping through the pages, he quickly scanned the contents—information as to the teaching staff, boarding accommodations, eligibility for admission, curriculum offered, and fees.
Tapping the booklet on his open palm, Graham glanced again toward the second floor. Then he mounted the steps and strode down the hall to Avril’s bedroom, where he paused before rapping softly on the door.
“Avril,” he called. “When you are quite ready to discuss this matter, I will be in the library.” Then he stooped and slid the little brochure under the doorway.
At his knock and familiar voice Avril raised her head. Leaning on her elbow she saw the brown pamphlet appear on the floor as Graham pushed it through the crack of the door. She guessed what it was but made no move to retrieve it.
She squeezed her eyes tight shut, wishing she could blot out the terrible scene. She knew she had behaved horribly. The minute she had heard the library door bang shut behind her she had stopped, expecting it to be yanked open again by an angry adult. Certainly she had expected instant punishment, for she knew she deserved it.
But the thought of going away to school, leaving Montclair, had come as such a shock that she had lost her head.
Standing outside the library door, frozen with guilt, she could not help overhearing the discussion about her that had followed her exit.
Clarice’s comments had been particularly humiliating. “A temper to match the hair.” Sometimes the Cameron boys had teased her about her red hair, but she had been crushed by the contempt with which the lady uttered the words.
She had not waited to hear more and had run upstairs, but just as she reached the landing, the adults came out of the room into the hallway. To avoid being seen, Avril had hunched down, hidden from view. It was then she had heard Clarice’s warning to Graham. Cheeks flaming, Avril had scurried to her bedroom and there flung herself face down on the bed in a torrent of tears.
She was furious with herself for what she had done, but angrier still at what had been done to her. It was all that woman’s fault, Avril was sure. Graham would never have thought of sending her away if she had not suggested it! But why would Graham want her to go when they were so happy together? And he was happy, she could tell. They had such good times together. Riding, walking, reading, talking …
Avril pounded her fists into the mattress. Seething inside, fury like quicksilver raced through her slight frame. But it was an impotent kind of fury. She would, in the end, have no choice. Children never did. Adults ran the world—in this case, strangely enough, the ladies. And no matter how Graham really felt about it, he would pay attention to their advice.
She didn’t blame Auntie May. Avril knew that she truly believed this was the wisest course and desired it only because she loved Avril. It was Mrs. Fontayne she didn’t like, could not trust.
Avril had noticed the way Clarice Fontayne made everything seem amusing with her honey-sweet voice, making comments about people that grown-ups thought clever and witty, but were actually cruel and cutting. How strange that no one else seemed to notice. Not even Graham.
Sighing, Avril swung her legs over the edge of the bed, jumped down and went over to the door to pick up the slim book. She took it back to the bed and, sitting cross-legged, began to read.
After a long while, she tossed it aside and got up to pour fresh water from the rose-patterned pitcher into the porcelain bowl on the washstand, splashing her swollen eyes and warm face with the cooling liquid.
She brushed her hair, tugging viciously at the tangles almost as if to punish herself. Then she made a face in the mirror and, smoothing her wrinkled pinafore, picked up the pamphlet from Faith Academy and started downstairs.
At the library door she knocked tentatively until she heard Graham’s gentle “Come in” before pushing it open and going inside.
“I’m sorry, Graham. Very sorry,” she whispered meekly.
“I’m sorry, too, Avril. It was a mistake not to talk it over with you first. That was my fault. I apologize.” His gaze on the abject little figure before him was tender.
She raised her chin then rather defensively and said in a firmer voice, “But I still don’t want to go.”
Graham was silent for a minute, as if giving her words full consideration, then he spoke to her very directly.
“Do you believe, Avril, that any decision I make regarding you is, in my judgment, in your best interest and ultimately for your happiness?”
Never taking her eyes from his face, she nodded solemnly.
“Well
, then, you must trust me this time as well.” There was firm conviction in his next words. “It is settled, Avril. You have been enrolled in Faith Academy, which I am convinced is a very fine school in every respect.”
Avril caught her lower lip between her teeth to keep it from quivering and tightened her hands clasped behind her back.
“I’ll go then, if that’s what you want me to do,” she said, but her tone was plaintive.
“Thank you, my dear. I counted on you to understand my decision in this matter.” A smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he continued to look at her. She was being dramatic, he thought, with some inner amusement. “I feel sure once you are at the Academy with girls your own age, you will wonder why you ever made such a fuss. Mrs. Fontayne tells me her days at boarding school were among the happiest of her life.”
Avril dug her nails into the palms of her hands to suppress the angry protest that rose to her lips. She certainly did not care to hear about Clarice’s school days!
“I am happy, here with you!” Avril cried stubbornly. “Girls my own age are probably silly, giggling creatures. And what shall I do without Fancy?” Now the voice quavered.
“Fancy will be here waiting for you when you come back for vacations and holidays. In the meantime she will receive the best of care, have no fear.”
“I shall still miss her—and you, Graham—most awfully!” Avril moved closer to his chair, her eyes luminous, pleading.
Graham put out his arm and pulled her close.
“And I shall miss you, too, Avril. But children need companions their own age. Aren’t you ever lonely here?”
She shook her head emphatically.