A Daughter's Inheritance by Tracie Peterson, Judith Miller Page A

relatives each summer. In order to accomplish that feat, she convinced her husband to distribute an annual bonus from company profits each summer, but only to those who came to the island with their families. Fanny hadn’t been privy to that bit of family information until two summers ago, when Jean, her cousin William’s wife, had told her. In retrospect Fanny realized Jean had been angry and blamed Fanny that they must spend their summers on the island. Jean had wanted to go to the New Jersey coast with her own family, but William insisted she come to Broadmoor Island instead. She had been willing to forgo the bonus, but William wouldn’t hear of it. Although Jean later apologized, Fanny remained uncomfortable in her presence, especially on Broadmoor Island.
    Jonas gasped at Mr. Fillmore’s revelation. “My father’s entire estate will be divided into summer distributions? For how long?”
    Mr. Fillmore shook his head. “Please, Jonas. If you would permit me to read the will, your questions will be answered.”
    The lawyer unfolded the document while Jonas dropped into a chair alongside the desk and waited. In a monotone voice, Mr. Fillmore read her grandfather’s dying wishes. As Fanny anticipated, her grandfather had made a number of small bequests. Mr. Fillmore continued:
    “Other than the specific bequests, my entire estate shall be divided among my three sons, Jonas, Quincy, and Langley, as set forth below.”
    Mortimer continued to read the details necessary to obtain the distribution. Fanny could see that Uncle Jonas was not at all pleased. He had hoped, as had most, that the requirements would be abolished with the death of the family patriarch. And although seventy percent of the estate would be distributed as soon as possible to the beneficiaries, their remaining thirty percent would be received in yearly allotments—at Broadmoor Island—a plan they’d not anticipated. It appeared even Uncle Quincy wished it might have been otherwise.
    When the chatter ceased, Mr. Fillmore read the next stipulation.
    “My granddaughter Frances Jane Broadmoor shall be entitled to receive my son Langley Broadmoor’s one-third share in its entirety.”
    “What?” Jonas jumped to his feet and sent his chair crashing to the floor. “Whatever was my father thinking? How could he possibly have done such a thing?” Fanny’s uncle turned his full attention upon her. “She’s not even an adult!” He directed his rage at Mr. Fillmore, but his anger was meant for Fanny. Anger that he’d be required to share his father’s fortune—anger that she’d ever been born.
    “There’s more, Jonas. Please!” Mr. Fillmore pointed to the overturned chair.
    “In the event my granddaughter Frances has not reached her age of majority at the time of my death, I hereby appoint my son Jonas Broadmoor to act as her guardian and trustee. Once Frances has reached her majority, she may elect to maintain Jonas as her advisor or select another person of her choosing.”
    Fanny gulped a deep breath. Not Uncle Jonas . She had figured as much but wished it could be otherwise. She knew Grandfather would choose his eldest son to handle any and all unpleasant details—herself included. Admittedly her uncle was a better choice than someone such as old Mr. Snodgrass, but Fanny would have preferred Uncle Quincy or even Grandfather’s lawyer, Mr. Rosenblume. Uncle Jonas had never respected her father, especially not after he’d taken his own life. Fanny had heard more than one tirade about Langley Broadmoor’s lack of spirit, strength, and admirable qualities. In fact, Jonas barely acknowledged Fanny in the aftermath of his brother’s death. He’d wanted to send her away—remove her from sight. And now he would be in charge. He’d be a wretched substitute for her father and grandparents.
    When Mr. Fillmore concluded, he carefully refolded the pages and looked up. He scanned the room. “Any questions?”
    Shouted inquiries rang from every