A Surrendered Heart (6 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: A Surrendered Heart
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The need to make an immediate decision left her breathless. If she employed Mr. Rosenblume as her lawyer, what would her uncle say or do? Would he insist she move out of his home? Not that she would mind that idea, of course. She silently prayed for guidance.

“If I should decide to employ Mr. Rosenblume, how would the transfer take place?”

Mr. Fillmore raked his fingers through his thick hair. “You would inform your uncle of employing Mr. Rosenblume as your lawyer. Your uncle has been intent upon removing his files from my office since the day my father died. After a cursory review of the files, I understood his persistence. I immediately removed the files from my office and told your uncle that there is little paper work there.” Vincent massaged his furrowed brow. “That much is true. However, he wants to come to the office and review his files.”

Fanny was doing her best to digest the information. “Then my uncle doesn’t know these records exist?”

Vincent shook his head. “No, not at this time.”

“But once I begin to investigate, he will get wind of what is going on,” Mr. Rosenblume warned. “It won’t take long before he realizes Mortimer left a paper trail and it has fallen into your hands. I must warn you that this could cause no end of trouble for you, Miss Broadmoor. You’re the one who must decide if you’ll permit your uncle to continue down this path of deceit and thievery. I would strongly urge you not to do so. But you must consider the difficulty this will cause with other family members.”

Fanny considered her dear cousins. Sophie would urge her to hire Mr. Rosenblume immediately. But what of Amanda? In spite of his shortcomings, Uncle Jonas was Amanda’s father. Once Amanda began to gain her strength, would such news hinder her complete recovery? And what would happen to Aunt Victoria and the rest of the family if proof of his actions came to light? Would they despise her?

Mr. Rosenblume shifted in his chair. “I know this is difficult, Miss Broadmoor, but Mr. Fillmore needs to know what he should do regarding these records.”

“Leave the files here. Mr. Rosenblume, I will retain you as my legal representative. At this moment I’m not certain how far I will proceed. I will need time to consider my actions further.”

Mr. Fillmore jumped to his feet. The man was obviously delighted to hear her decision and anxious to be on his way. “You have my word that I will cooperate with Mr. Rosenblume in any manner he requests, Miss Broadmoor.” He hesitated for a moment. “And I hope I have your word that you won’t tell your uncle what I’ve done.”

Fanny nodded. If Uncle Jonas quizzed her at length, she’d simply direct him to speak with Mr. Rosenblume. That was, after all, what lawyers were supposed to do, wasn’t it? Moments later, Mr. Fillmore hurried out of the office, leaving her to deal with Mr. Rosenblume and the mountain of paper—a task that didn’t appeal to her in the least.

She glanced at the clock on Mr. Rosenblume’s mahogany desk. A full forty-five minutes remained until the driver was due to return. Though she understood the importance of the issue at hand, she longed to take her leave and contemplate this unsavory news in private. She longed to walk among the gardens of her grandparents’ home and pick lilacs for Amanda.

Before she could excuse herself, Mr. Rosenblume retrieved several papers from one of the files. “There are several things I believe you need to review immediately. Much of this can wait until I’ve conducted a thorough examination, but this is a matter of import. It appears your uncle has been actively seeking a buyer for the Broadmoor Mansion, and I’m not at all sure you would agree with such a sale.”

Fanny frowned. “Broadmoor Mansion has already been sold, Mr. Rosenblume. My uncle sold it without my knowledge. He proposed the sale with the hope I would marry the young man of his choosing. Though I was distraught, the court approved the sale, and there was little I could do. I don’t know how he managed the legalities.”

“My dear, the entire setup was a sham. Your uncle duped young Daniel. Still, his plan fell short, for he didn’t convince you to marry Mr. Irwin, did he?”

Fanny shook her head. The lawyer’s knowledge of Daniel Irwin piqued her interest, and she leaned closer to examine the file’s contents. “Exactly what makes you think the house is for sale?”

He handed Fanny a note written on her uncle’s stationery and dated only a week prior to Mortimer Fillmore’s death. The letter confirmed exactly what Mr. Rosenblume had told her. Uncle Jonas blamed Mortimer for not locating a suitable buyer even though they’d lowered the selling price. How could her uncle do such a thing! He knew how much that house meant to her and how much it had meant to his parents. Indignation assailed her as she read the words scrawled at the bottom of the page.
Burn this letter after you have read the contents.

Mr. Fillmore hadn’t followed her uncle’s orders. In addition to the letter, there was an unsigned deed made out to Daniel, together with background information that had been gathered on several men, Daniel included. Fanny recognized the names of the others—all of them men her uncle had invited to Broadmoor Island. With each additional detail, her anger mounted.

“Has your review revealed how my uncle gained permission to sell Broadmoor Mansion?”

“The paper work appears to be in order. The judge signed a document approving the sale. You uncle’s motion to the court states that cash was needed to meet unexpected debts. He further declared Broadmoor Mansion could be easily sold and the proceeds used to pay those undisclosed debts. Since your uncle has authority to act on your behalf, notification to you wasn’t required. The records reflect your uncle Quincy was notified, but he filed no objection. If he truly received the notice, I doubt he even read the papers. Quincy has never been interested in business matters. I would guess Jonas relied upon that knowledge as well as the fact that Quincy’s charity work generally keeps him too busy to worry over issues relating to your grandfather’s estate. Like you, Quincy relies upon Jonas.”

“Since the court has already granted permission to sell the house, I want to purchase Broadmoor Mansion, Mr. Rosenblume.”

Mr. Rosenblume smiled. “I was certain that would be your reaction.”

“Can it be arranged without my uncle’s knowledge?”

The lawyer hesitated. “I assume your uncle has continued to hold control of your investments and funds even though you’ve attained your majority?”

“I’m afraid I had little choice. The judge, Mr. Fillmore, and my uncle all advised that it would be imprudent for a woman to attempt managing my vast holdings. The judge indicated he wouldn’t approve such an arrangement. Uncle Jonas gives me an allowance each month. Other than that, I don’t know if I have access to any of my money or not. I’ve never made any attempt to withdraw funds. Even when I purchased a house for my cousin, I had my uncle see to the transaction. After what you’ve told me, I’m doubtful I can access any of the accounts.” She silently chided herself for such a grievous error in judgment. “This will ruin my opportunity to purchase Broadmoor Mansion.”

“Not necessarily. I could purchase the house for you,” Mr. Rosenblume said. “Once we’ve gained access to your funds, you could repay me.”

Fanny stared at the lawyer. No wonder her grandfather had valued Mr. Rosenblume. In addition to his honesty, he was obviously a compassionate man. She didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, but she had little choice. If she didn’t agree, Uncle Jonas would continue to seek a buyer for the house. It might be lost to her forever.

“Please do what you can to secure the title for me,” she said.

“I know you may find it difficult to trust anyone right now, Miss Broadmoor, but I hope you will remember my years of faithful service to your grandfather. My intent is to help you in any way possible.” Mr. Rosenblume gathered the papers and shoved them inside the file folder. “I will make every effort to secure the mansion at the lowest possible price. The fact that Jonas is anxious to sell should work in your favor.”

“Let’s hope so,” she said. “Is there anything else we must address this morning?”

“I do want you to understand that your uncle has commingled funds and it will take time and effort to determine exactly what is yours and what is his. While some of the details are clear-cut, others are clouded.”

“If these allegations prove to be true, I want to take every effort to protect my aunt and cousins. They had no part in any of this. It is Uncle Jonas who must answer for his actions.”

The lawyer nodded. “I will do what I can to protect both your interests and the family name.” He lifted some files from one end of the table. “These files were marked with your name and the word
confidential
. I have not examined their contents.” The clock chimed, and he handed her the files. “Take these papers with you. Once you’ve reviewed them, we can discuss anything you discover that might require my attention.”

After bidding Mr. Rosenblume farewell, Fanny tucked the files under her arm and arrived at the Rochester Savings Bank only minutes before the carriage appeared. Instead of stopping to pick lilacs, she instructed the driver to return home. It wouldn’t do for Uncle Jonas to be waiting and confront her when she entered the house. What if he spotted the files and inquired? What would she say? Even with the driver’s urging, the horse seemed to plod along at an unusually slow pace. She prayed her uncle wouldn’t decide to come home for the noonday meal. Since Aunt Victoria’s departure, his schedule had become irregular, and Fanny never knew when he might appear. Not that it had mattered much in the past.

Fanny leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Was my uncle at home when you left the house?”

The driver shook his head. “Haven’t seen him since early this morning, and he didn’t leave any instructions to pick him up until this evening. ’Course you can’t never tell about Mr. Jonas. Sometimes he hires a cab to bring him home.”

When they neared the house, she once again tapped the driver. “Go around to the back of the house. I’ll enter through the kitchen.”

The young man glanced over his shoulder and frowned, but he didn’t question her. The servants who worked for Jonas Broadmoor knew better.

“Thank you,” she said as he helped her down. “After lunch, I’ll need you to take me to Broadmoor Mansion and then on to the Home for the Friendless.” The driver nodded. Fanny gazed over the driver’s shoulder and was pleased to see that her uncle’s horses hadn’t been hitched to his carriage. She hoped that meant he had remained at his office. The minute she entered the kitchen, she quizzed the cook and was relieved when she heard that her uncle hadn’t darkened the doorway.

“When would you like to eat, Miss Fanny?” the cook asked when she continued toward the rear stairway.

“I’ll get something a little later. I’m not hungry right now.”

The cook nodded. “If you’re sure, ’cause I could—”

“I am. I’ll be upstairs in my bedroom,” she called over her shoulder.

Never before had Fanny locked the bedroom door, but today was different. She placed the files on her bed, removed the key from the top dresser drawer, and slipped it into the lock. One twist of the key and the bolt slipped into place with a soft
clunk
.

Apprehension filled her as she crossed the room and settled in a chair that overlooked the rear garden. She sifted through the papers and then stopped to more closely peruse a letter addressed to Mortimer Fillmore. The missive was written on her uncle’s stationery and in his familiar script. More importantly, her inheritance was the subject of the letter.

She clasped her palm to her lips when she read her uncle’s directive to falsify the records and deduct his financial losses from her accounts. He set forth a plan that clearly proved what Mr. Rosenblume and Vincent Fillmore had suspected. Her hands shook as she turned to read the final page.
Your fears concerning Fanny are needless. She is a foolish young woman who lacks the intelligence to question her finances. She will never request an examination of the accounts.
He’d signed the letter and added a final caveat instructing Mortimer to burn the letter. Fanny could scarcely believe what she’d read.

She had hoped to find something in the files that would vindicate her uncle. Instead, he had secretly schemed against her. How could someone who professed to love her pledge his loyalty and then betray her? Uncle Jonas had evolved into a Judas Iscariot. She shuddered at the thought.

Amanda struggled to push aside the pile of quilts that enveloped her like a smothering cocoon. Had Blake thought she might freeze to death? She would have inquired, but he appeared to be dozing in a chair near the foot of her bed. The scent of lilacs drifted toward her and momentarily replaced the putrid smells wafting from the bucket by her bed. The quilts landed on the wood floor with a dull thud that immediately startled him awake.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to waken you, but I thought I might suffocate under all of these blankets.” Amanda forced her dry, cracked lips into a half smile. “I see the rain has stopped.” She lifted a shaking hand and pointed to a nearby table. “Lilacs?”

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