An Unexpected Love (38 page)

“Surely there isn’t anything so important that it won’t wait until after supper, Fanny.” His wife stepped closer as if to protect him.

“I’ve been trying to speak with Uncle Jonas for nearly two weeks now.”

Jonas patted his wife’s hand. He didn’t want the tension to escalate. “I’ll be fine, my dear. As soon as I speak with Fanny, I’ll go upstairs and rest.” He waved Fanny forward. “Come into the library and tell me what is of such great importance that it can’t wait for another hour or two.” He dropped into one of the leather chairs. “Well?”

“I need you to transfer money into an account for Paul and Sophie. I am going to purchase a house for them, and I want the funds to be easily accessible when Paul locates one. He’s already begun his search, and I don’t want him to miss an opportunity because I haven’t arranged the funding.” She stared at him a moment while he digested what she’d said. Then with a quick smile, she jumped up from her chair. “That didn’t take long, did it? Now you may go upstairs and rest.”

“Sit down!” he bellowed. “You want me to transfer funds so that you can purchase a house for Sophie?”

“And Paul,” she added. “It’s my wedding gift to them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If Sophie has need of a home and Paul can’t purchase one, let her father see to it. Quincy inherited as much money as you did. He can well afford to help her.”

Fanny folded her hands in her lap. “I appreciate your suggestion, Uncle Jonas, but we both know that Uncle Quincy will use every cent of his inheritance on the Home for the Friendless. He would think it a frivolous waste of money that could be better used to help the needy.”

“As do I,” Jonas boomed.

“You think I should donate the money to the needy?”

“No, of course not! But I believe purchasing a house for your cousin is a frivolous waste of money.”

“Well, I disagree, and it’s my money. Amanda and Sophie are closer to me than anyone else in the world. If I want to do this for Sophie, I don’t see why you should object. I’ve already told Amanda I will do the same for her when she marries.” Fanny frowned. “Of course, she doesn’t think she will ever marry, but—”

“I am not interested in discussing Amanda’s marriage prospects. I am certain she will choose a husband who can afford to purchase a house. But we are currently discussing a transfer of funds to benefit Sophie.” He wagged his head. “I think this is a tragic error, and I advise against any such—”

“The money is mine. I am of age, and I insist the transfer be made. I’ve not pressed the issue until now because there seemed to be no reason to do so, but if you will not handle my money in the manner in which I desire, I will simply take full charge of it.”

His angry words weren’t having the effect he had hoped for. Why was it men cowered at his feet if Jonas so much as raised his voice, but this snippet of a girl stood her ground with ease? If he wasn’t careful, he would be sinking in quicksand with no means of rescue. “That won’t be necessary, my dear. I’m afraid you just took me by surprise. I’m quite tired and, well, it seemed that your idea was not well thought out. Upon reflection, I see you’ve considered this for some time. If you insist, I will see to it when I return to Rochester on Monday.”

“And you’ll send word to Paul the moment the account has been set up?”

He nodded. “I will see to it. What amount do you have in mind?” She told him, and he felt his chest tighten. “Very well.” It was the only thing he could say. To speak further would have sent him into a rage.

The moment she exited the room, Jonas pushed himself up from the chair and removed a bottle of bourbon from the enclosed cabinet beneath one of the library shelves. He poured an inch of the amber liquid into a glass. Swallowing the contents in one gulp, he held his breath as the burning sensation coursed down his throat and into his belly. Moments later, he exhaled and poured another glass. This time he sat down in his chair and drank slowly, his level of anxiety now somewhat abated by the liquor.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting in the chair when Victoria entered the room. Her unexpected appearance startled him.

“I went upstairs looking for you,” she said. “I thought you were going to take a nap before supper.”

“I was, but I decided I could relax in here just as well. What time is it?”

She sat down in the chair opposite him. “Six o’clock. I told Mrs. Atwell to plan supper for seven. I thought to give you extra time to rest.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m feeling much better, my dear.” He didn’t confess it was the alcohol rather than sleep that had helped him to gain his state of relaxation. His wife wouldn’t approve.

“How are things in Rochester?” Victoria rang a small bell and, when a servant appeared, requested a pitcher of lemonade.

“Everything is as usual,” he said once the servant had disappeared. “Most of your friends are still summering abroad or at their summer cottages. At least that’s what their husbands tell me when I see them at the club.” He glanced outside. “I am glad most of the family has departed from the island. Now with the final disbursement of money given, I’ll be surprised to see any of them for some time. I trust it has been more restful for you, as well.”

She nodded. “There’s been little happening to speak of. Except for Fanny’s letter. But I imagine she mentioned she’d heard from Michael.”

Jonas perked to attention. “No, she didn’t say a word. What did he have to say for himself?”

The servant returned with the lemonade and glasses arranged on a tray. Victoria pointed to the small table across from her. She poured her husband a glass of the lemonade and handed it to him. “From his letter, it sounds as though he’s been extremely successful in his search for gold.”

Jonas snorted. “Well, one can’t necessarily believe he’s met with such good fortune. He may simply be hoping to keep her waiting by the fireside, so to speak.”

“Since he plans to leave the Yukon at the end of August, it would seem his letter must be truthful.”

“End of August?” Jonas sputtered and choked on the lemonade. Tears trickled down his cheeks, and he withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket while Victoria clapped him on the back.

When he finally quit coughing and had caught his breath, Victoria returned to her chair. “Goodness, you gave me a fright. Was there a seed in the lemonade?”

He ignored the question. “Did you say Michael is returning the end of August?”

“Or early September. Fanny was hoping he would return even earlier, but it didn’t appear he could manage to depart any sooner. She’s already planning a wedding for mid-September.”

“We can’t permit her to marry him, Victoria. It just isn’t appropriate. The Atwells are nice enough people, but Michael wouldn’t fit in with our people.”

“I understand it could make for a difficult marriage, but Fanny is of legal age. If she wants to marry Michael, we can hardly stop her.” She poured herself a glass of lemonade. “I’ve done my best to steer her toward other young men, but Fanny tells me you’ve given your word, Jonas. The girl has her own fortune, and if Michael has met your requirements, I don’t see how you can possibly object. It simply wouldn’t be honorable.”

“Don’t you care if the girl becomes a social outcast?”

Victoria scoffed. “Our social community might treat her coldly for a season, but they would never banish Fanny for the long term. She is a Broadmoor and has inherited a third of her grandfather’s estate. And if Michael has made a fortune in the gold fields, his money will gain him acceptance in all the right social circles.” She took a sip of her lemonade. “Besides, some things are more important than social status and money. The Broadmoors have always recognized the importance of family.”

He stared at his wife, dumbfounded by her last remark. He’d never seen evidence that his relatives, except for his mother and father, cared one whit about family. Instead of encouragement, they provided gossip fodder for one another, each seeming to relish the other’s bad news rather than the good. In fact, they would likely be delighted if his investments failed.

25

Saturday, August 13, 1898

At the sight of the
DaisyBee
, Amanda hurried toward the dock. She kept to the path, her strides long and vigorous. For the past half hour, she’d been waiting for Clara Barton’s arrival. The older woman had accepted an invitation to join them for an afternoon on Broadmoor Island, and Amanda planned to use the time to her advantage. Mr. Atwell had departed some time ago. He planned to pick up a few supplies in Clayton, meet her uncle Quincy at the train station, and then stop at Pullman Island for Miss Barton.

Shading her eyes, she peered toward the boat. She could make out two men and one woman. Perhaps Paul had accompanied Uncle Quincy. Sophie would certainly be surprised, for Paul had told her cousin that he would be needed at the Home this weekend. Squinting into the sun, she decided the man wasn’t Paul, for the man beside Uncle Quincy was somewhat taller. Royal Pullman may have decided to accompany Miss Barton. Her spirits sagged at the thought, for if so, she wouldn’t get as much time with the woman as she’d hoped.

She hastened forward to greet Miss Barton, but when the second man turned toward her, she stopped in her tracks and stared, speechless.
Blake!
Who had invited him to the island?

Mr. Atwell assisted Miss Barton from the boat while Amanda wondered if Dr. Carstead had come to meet Miss Barton. With her thoughts skittering helter-skelter, Amanda forced herself to take stock of the situation. Miss Barton was her guest, and she didn’t want to make a poor impression. “I trust you had a pleasant boat ride, Miss Barton?”

“Lovely. Too bad it wasn’t longer. I told Mr. Atwell that he could take the long way around when he delivers me back to Castle Rest on Mr. Pullman’s island. I do enjoy the scenery along the river. Of course, it’s always more fun to see a new guest’s reaction to the islands.” She smiled at Blake. “Dr. Carstead is quite impressed with this little piece of heaven we call the Thousand Islands, aren’t you?”

“That I am, Miss Barton. And your enjoyable company has made it all the more appealing.” He smiled at Amanda. “You didn’t tell me Miss Barton was a frequent visitor to the islands.”

A surge of unbidden jealousy caught her by surprise. “I don’t believe we ever discussed the islands at all. However, I am surprised to see you here, Dr. Carstead. I didn’t realize my mother had invited you.”

“Dr. Carstead is
my
guest, Amanda,” her uncle replied. His terse tone served to remind her that the island wasn’t the sole property of her father. Uncle Quincy and Fanny shared ownership with her father in Broadmoor Island. “Since he so generously donates his time and energy to residents at the Home, I thought he might enjoy a weekend of relaxation here at the island. A small way of extending my personal thanks.”

Miss Barton opened her parasol. “I’m pleased you agreed to accept Quincy’s invitation. Time to rejuvenate body and soul is important to those working in the medical profession. The first time Royal Pullman invited me to come for a visit, I nearly refused. I’m thankful he insisted.” She chuckled. “Now I invite myself.”

Blake pointed toward the house. “It appears there’s a game of croquet already in progress.”

Amanda nodded. “Most any time of day, you can find someone willing to play lawn tennis or croquet. Shall we sit on the veranda and watch? Or perhaps you’d like to join in, Dr. Carstead? I’m certain they wouldn’t object to another player.” If he agreed, she would have the time alone with Miss Barton she had hoped for.

“It appears they’re already well into their game. I’ll join them later if they should decide to play again.”

Uncle Quincy bobbed his head. “Absolutely. Sit down and have a glass of lemonade, Blake. I’m sure you and Miss Barton have many things you’d like to discuss.”

Amanda considered advising her uncle that Miss Barton was
her
guest, but she knew such behavior would be unseemly. Instead, she inwardly seethed when the doctor positioned himself between Miss Barton and her. Couldn’t he at least let her sit next to the woman?

Miss Barton accepted a glass of lemonade and settled back in her chair. “Dr. Carstead tells me you’ve been quite an asset in the operating room, Amanda.”

A smile played at her lips. “He did?” She glanced in his direction, surprised by the revelation.

Blake grunted. “Don’t let a few words of praise go to your head. You still have much to learn.”

“But you did say she was more adept than some of the physicians you’d trained with, and that she doesn’t forget anything once she’s been taught.”

“He did?” Amanda repeated. She sat up straighter in her chair.

“Yes, but I also mentioned she needs a great deal more training,” he added.

Miss Barton tipped her head to one side. “Still, you had the highest of praise for—”

A scream erupted from the yard, and Amanda jumped to her feet. “It’s Sophie!” she shouted, racing toward the lawn.

Her cousin was doubled over in pain and was using her croquet mallet to help maintain her balance. Embracing Sophie around the shoulders, Amanda met her cousin’s wild-eyed stare.

“You are going to be fine, Sophie, but you must tell me what is wrong.”

“Terrible pain . . . in my stomach,” Sophie sputtered between tearful sobs. “Oh, I cannot bear it.”

“We need to get her inside,” Blake said. “I’m going to carry you into the house, Sophie. There’s no need to worry. Amanda and I are going to take care of you.”

The doctor’s words seemed to soothe her, but then Amanda’s mother arrived from across the lawn and asked, “What’s wrong?

Is she going to lose the baby?”

Sophie twisted in Dr. Carstead’s arms. “Is that what’s happening to me?” she wailed. The frantic look reappeared.

“Mother!
” Amanda pulled her mother aside. “We are trying to calm her. Please guard your words.” Without waiting for her mother’s reply, Amanda hurried after Dr. Carstead, Miss Barton close on her heels.

“Complete bed rest for a minimum of two weeks,” Blake instructed after Sophie’s examination had been completed.