William frowned. “I would hope you’d also give them some type of financial reward for their many years of devoted service.”
“Yes, of course. Now if we could discuss the issue of the house sale?” Jonas didn’t wait for a response before he removed the paper work from his leather case and spread the pages across William’s desk. He pushed the contract across the desk to William. “Read this,” he said into the ear trumpet.
After he’d completed his reading, William tapped his finger on the second page. “I assume you want me to set up this account?”
“Yes. That’s why I had you read the contract.”
He rubbed his jaw and glanced over the top of the spectacles perched on his nose. “Why is this sale being handled outside of the court’s oversight? Is that legal? Aren’t you required to list this in the inventory of assets?”
“The legalities are not your concern, William. That’s why I have a lawyer. Mortimer Fillmore is well versed in estate law, and I have every confidence the sale is being handled properly.”
“Don’t you think it would be wise to make certain? Mortimer’s getting up in years, and he’s been known to make a mistake or two in his time.”
Jonas wanted to laugh aloud. William was referring to Mortimer as old, yet they were likely the same age. One couldn’t hear; the other couldn’t stay awake long enough to conduct business. He should replace both of them.
“Mortimer has checked on the legalities and assures me everything is in proper order. If you don’t want to open the account, I suppose I could take my business across the street to First National. I doubt they’d turn away my business.”
His threat had the desired effect. Jonas knew the prospect of transferring the Broadmoor accounts would be enough to motivate William. The banker dropped his ear trumpet onto the pile of papers and curled his lip. “There’s no need to behave like an ill-tempered child, Jonas. I’ll make the arrangements, but if any problem arises regarding this matter, remember that I warned you.”
Jonas leaned back into his chair. With Judge Webster on his side, there was no need to worry. No one would know about the sale until the transaction had been completed.
At Sea
Sophie leaned close against Wesley’s shoulder and enjoyed the tingle that traced down her arm each time she drew near him. “You fret overmuch. No one will even notice that we’ve slipped away for a few minutes.”
Her words didn’t appear to ease Wesley’s concerns, for he immediately glanced over his shoulder. “We may have been wiser to wait until later in the evening.” He nodded toward a small library that was seldom in use—especially during the evening hours. They stepped inside the dimly lit room, and Wesley led her to a leather couch. “Your charm and beauty have cast a spell upon me, dearest Sophie.” He traced his finger along her cheek. “You cannot imagine the depth of despair one feels when hope is lost, but you have renewed my hope and gifted me with the ability to love again.”
Her heartbeat quickened at his words. She’d always found pleasure in flitting from one man to another. But now that she’d met Wesley, she was certain no other man could capture her interest for even a second. Strange how Wesley had mesmerized her. And wonder of wonders, she’d seemingly had the same effect upon him. She reveled in his words of endearment and hoped his feelings for her would remain constant once they arrived in New York.
“It’s obvious you loved your wife very much. I’m honored that I, of all people, have been the one to renew your optimism for the future.” Sophie clasped his hand in her own. “I would enjoy hearing about your wife. What was she like?”
With a faraway look in his eyes, Wesley seemed to consider her question. “She was much different from you—in truth, I’d say you are complete opposites.”
Sophie’s heart plummeted at the remark. Perhaps she was only a fleeting diversion, and Wesley would soon tire of her. “I see. Then you are generally attracted to staid women who prefer sipping tea and performing charity work.”
He tipped his head back and laughed. “No. I’ve always preferred a woman who has a delightful sense of humor and enjoys life. When we married, I thought my wife to be much like you. And she very much wanted children, but as time passed and children didn’t arrive, she became quiet and indifferent to life. Actually, it was quite sad to observe her change from a vivacious young woman to a recluse of sorts. My love for her never swayed, though in the final years of our marriage, I missed her cheerful spirit. You have once again reminded me that life is to be enjoyed.”
“That’s what I tell Amanda and Fanny all the time. We need to seize the moment and enjoy what life has to offer.”
He squeezed her hand and leaned in until only a hairsbreadth separated them. “I love that you dare to speak your mind and show your feelings.”
Encouraged by his words, she boldly fell into his arms and savored his closeness. He lifted her chin and looked deep into her eyes. Warmth stirred within and slowly trailed throughout her body until even her fingertips burned with heat. “Wesley.” His name was but a whisper on her lips before his head slowly descended and his lips covered hers with a soft, lingering kiss.
“We must restrain ourselves and be careful. If someone should see us, your reputation would suffer, and I would never forgive myself. You are very dear to me, and I would never want to compromise you in any way.” He brushed her palm with a kiss. “Your family, as well as the rest of polite society, would consider our present behavior improper.”
“Thank you, Wesley. The fact that you are concerned about my reputation touches my heart.”
Sophie had spoken with absolute sincerity. Yet why had she always considered such warnings from Paul annoying? She weighed the thought and decided that the answer lay in the way the words were spoken. Wesley’s words had been cloaked in an air of protection that both warmed and comforted her. On the other hand, Paul’s admonitions always seemed directed with an air of authority and censure, likely due to his religious zeal. Love made all the difference, she decided. Her love for Wesley and, from what he’d indicated, his love for her. Rather than finding Wesley’s words harsh and unyielding, she treasured his concern. And though she would have preferred to remain in his arms for the remainder of the evening, Sophie willingly followed him from the room.
Fanny hurried down one of the ship’s corridors, certain she’d receive a reprimand from her aunt. Aunt Victoria clearly disliked late arrivals, but this time Fanny’s tardiness couldn’t be helped. Repairs to her gown and struggling with her uncooperative hair could both be blamed. Minnie had taken ill late in the afternoon, leaving only Veda to assist with her dress. In the maid’s haste to press the wrinkles from Fanny’s gown, she had torn the lace trim that adorned the bodice. The repair had taken a good half hour. And although Amanda had attempted to arrange Fanny’s hair in a neat pile of curls, they’d easily escaped the hairpins with each movement of her head. Poor Veda had been in tears by the time Fanny finally departed their suite.
Her aunt had been evasive when she’d invited Fanny to the small dinner party—even Amanda, who hadn’t been invited, insisted she knew nothing of the event. Fanny hadn’t doubted her cousin’s word. Amanda had been both intrigued and insulted when Fanny had mentioned the dinner party. Fanny only wished she could have changed places with her cousin. She disliked these formal gatherings, especially when she didn’t know what to expect. She’d tried to decline the invitation, but Aunt Victoria would have none of it.
“This is a very special dinner, and you will be amazed by the surprise that awaits you,” her aunt had said.
The only surprise Fanny desired was a letter from Michael, but receiving mail on the ship would be impossible. She hoped she would discover a missive or two awaiting her the moment they arrived home. The mere thought of Michael brought a smile to her lips. How she longed to read his words and learn when he would return to her.
She entered the main dining room and was immediately whisked away by one of the white-jacketed waiters. With a wide sw
eep of his arm, the waiter bid her to enter one of the private dining rooms. The room was dimly lit, and she squinted as she entered. Her eyes soon adjusted to the diffused light, though her smile immediately faded as the figure across the table stood. Daniel. Only one table had been arranged in the room—with only two place settings. Surely her aunt hadn’t expected her to rejoice over a private dinner with Daniel. Fanny glanced over her shoulder. Surely someone else would join them.
Daniel stepped around the table and stood by the chair. “Do sit down, Fanny.”
“Who else will be joining . . .” Her voice faltered. She couldn’t speak the word us. The implication was more than she could grasp at the moment. “Who else is joining you for dinner?”
He stepped closer and touched her elbow. Her feet moved forward against her will. Within moments they were seated at the table, and Daniel was staring at her. Though she’d never been nose to nose with a fox, the gleam in Daniel’s eyes brought that animal to mind. Her chair was positioned on the far side of the table. In order to escape, she’d be forced to pass by Daniel. Once again he’d trapped her in a corner.
Resting his forearms on the table, Daniel reached for Fanny’s hand. Surprised by his bold behavior, she yanked away and then watched in horror as the water pitcher tumbled onto its side. Water streamed across the linen tablecloth, soaking and pooling here and there until the final vestiges trickled onto the floor. Too late, she retrieved the pitcher and returned it to an upright position. Only a meager amount of liquid remained at the bottom. Tracing her fingers over the edges, she quickly examined the cut-glass container and offered a quick prayer of thanks when she discovered no chips or cracks.
Daniel hastened to signal the waiter, who politely suggested the couple enjoy a brief turn about the deck while he cleared and reset the table. Though she would have preferred to remain with the waiter or return to her room, Daniel was only too pleased to escort her to the deck. A cool breeze greeted them, and Fanny struggled to lift her lace wrap to her shoulders.
“Let me help,” Daniel said, grasping an edge of the fabric. He draped the shawl across her back and permitted his palm to rest lightly on her shoulder.
Fanny shrugged and gave a quick twist of her upper body to jar his hand from her shoulder. “Thank you. I believe my wrap is secure.” She sidestepped to place a few inches of distance between them. “You never answered my earlier question. Will anyone else be joining us for dinner?”
The moonlight beamed upon the water and cast a rippling design upon Daniel’s face. “We’ll be dining alone, but lest you concern yourself over the propriety of our private dinner, be assured that I gained your aunt’s permission.”
Fanny inhaled a deep breath. Daniel and Aunt Victoria had planned this—the two of them—together. A sense of betrayal knifed its way into her heart. Although her aunt had clearly stated she didn’t consider Michael a proper match, Fanny hadn’t expected her to aid Daniel in his romantic pursuit. The fact that her aunt had touted the dinner as one that would involve a lovely surprise only served to heighten Fanny’s dismay. While Daniel attempted to keep pace with her, Fanny continued along the perimeter of the ship at a measured clip. When they’d circled the deck, she reentered the main dining room and stopped outside the private room Daniel had reserved.
Noting the waiter still at work setting the table, she turned to Daniel. “There’s no reason why we couldn’t enjoy our meal out here with the other passengers.”
Daniel ignored her remark and signaled to the waiter. “How much longer?”
The waiter motioned him forward. “My apologies. I have only to retrieve another pitcher of water. You may be seated if you’d like.” He pressed the palm of his hand across the edge of the tablecloth to remove a slight wrinkle.
Daniel stepped to one side and motioned Fanny forward. There was no escape for her. She offered another apology to the waiter before sitting down. “I’ll do my best to be more careful.”
The waiter tipped his head. “It’s my pleasure to be of service.”
Fanny doubted he meant it, but she didn’t argue. The waiter returned with the water, filled their glasses, and placed the pitcher on a nearby sideboard. He evidently didn’t plan on taking any chances. Daniel had ordered their meals in advance, and although Fanny would have preferred making her own choices, she thanked him for his thoughtfulness.
When the waiter later departed to retrieve their dessert, Daniel leaned forward. “You know how much I’ve grown to care for you, Fanny. From the moment I first set eyes upon you at Broadmoor Island, I knew you were the woman of my dreams.”
She giggled. “I’m sorry, Daniel, but I truly don’t know how you could consider a complete stranger to be the woman of your dreams. Surely you are interested in more than appearance. I hadn’t considered you quite so shallow.”
He reared back at the comment. She’d clearly struck a nerve.
“I don’t consider myself shallow in the least. ’Tis true that your beauty drew me, but it is your intelligence and sweet spirit that have held me captive ever since.”
She bit her lip. Daniel sounded as though he’d been reciting poetry. Had he thought he must find the perfect words to woo her? Obviously he didn’t know her. She much preferred a man who would speak straight from his heart. Someone like Michael, who would tell her the truth. “I have no desire to hold you captive, Daniel. Please consider yourself released from any hold you think I may have upon you.”
“But can’t you see that it is my desire to be your prisoner, Fanny? I want to spend the rest of my life imprisoned by your love.”
She stared at him, too dumbfounded to speak. Had her cousins Jefferson and George been aboard the ship, she would have suspected they were playing a joke on her. But neither of them was there.
Now Daniel reached into his pocket and retrieved a jeweler’s box. She pushed back in her chair, longing for an escape.
“I love you, Fanny.” He lifted the lid of the box and there, encased in velvet, was a massive diamond ring. “With your Aunt Victoria’s assistance, I have chosen this ring especially for you, and it is my fervent hope that you will agree to marry me. This diamond reflects the depth of my love for you. Please say you will be my wife.”
In one swift gesture she slid her hands from the table. “I couldn’t possibly consider your offer. I am already engaged to Michael. You know that.”
“And I am begging you to reconsider, for you know that your uncle Jonas would never approve your marriage to someone of Michael’s social standing.” He squared his shoulders. “I believe your uncle would be pleased to accept me into the family.”
“Uncle Jonas has already agreed that I may marry Michael when he returns. We solidified the arrangement before Michael left for the Yukon. Michael will return with his fortune, and my uncle will offer no objection to our marriage.”
“And you believe that?” Daniel scoffed. “You are a Broadmoor. Even if Michael returns a wealthy man, I don’t believe your uncle will give his blessing. Money will not give him the social status your uncle requires. He likely gave his word believing Michael would never return.”
“My uncle’s blessing will be of little import, for I shall be of age by the time Michael returns, and I will no longer be forced to adhere to the Broadmoor rules.” She tilted her head and grinned.
“You may be freed from following your uncle’s rules, but remember that if you go against his wishes, you’ll be isolated from the rest of the family. Would you give up your family so easily, Fanny?”
She squared her shoulders. “Amanda and Sophie would never desert me. We love one another.”
“You must remember that your cousins are both dependent upon their fathers for their well-being. If they are to maintain their social status and eventually make good marriages, they dare not defy the wishes of their fathers.”
While Daniel forked a bite of his apple pie, Fanny considered his words. She feared much of what he said was correct. Although she could help her cousins financially once
she attained legal age, she doubted they would be willing to sacrifice their families for her. If Uncle Jonas disinherited Amanda, she would lose her social standing as well as her ability to make a good marriage. And although Uncle Quincy would never, of his own volition, recommend alienation of a family member, there was little doubt that he’d abide by Uncle Jonas’s decision. Given Aunt Victoria’s willingness to help Daniel arrange this private dinner as well as assist him in the selection of an engagement ring, her aunt had obviously come to the conclusion that Fanny would forget Michael and fall in love with another man.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she pushed away from the table. “You must excuse me. I’m not feeling well. Thank you for dinner.” She avoided Daniel’s outstretched hand as she fled the room. Racing down the corridor, she allowed her tears to flow with abandon.
10
Saturday, December 4, 1897
Rochester, New York
Sophie strolled toward the punch table, uninterested in the conversation and dancing that swirled around her; she would have much preferred to remain at home that evening. Although every eligible bachelor in Rochester was in attendance, Aunt Victoria’s coming-home party held little appeal, and she looked forward to escaping at the earliest opportunity. They’d celebrated with a Thanksgiving dinner only days earlier, and she wasn’t interested in any further festivities.
“Am I to assume you are ill this evening?”
Sophie turned from the punch table and discovered herself face-to-face with Paul Medford. She furrowed her brow. “Why would you think I am unwell? Has the pale gray shade of my dress caused me to appear sallow?”
“No. In fact, your gown is quite beautiful, but I am unaccustomed to seeing you stand at a punch bowl. Normally, you can’t seem to find enough dance partners, yet tonight I’ve not seen you dance even once.” He pointed to the card that hung from her wrist. “I believe I see a number of vacant lines on your dance card. How can that be? Sophie Broadmoor, the most sought-after dance partner in all of Rochester, not dancing?”
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