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

corner of the room and the many spaces in between. Mr. Fillmore waved the folded document overhead until the relatives quieted. “I’m unable to hear your questions with all of you talking at once. All necessary paper work will be filed with the court. I will contact you by letter, advising each beneficiary when you may expect payment. Unless you have questions beyond what I’ve told you, please feel free to depart.”
    Fanny turned to Amanda and then to Sophie. It suddenly began to dawn on her that they, too, might be offended at the provision Grandfather had made for her.
    “I don’t know what to say.” She shook her head. “Please tell me that you don’t hate me like the others do.”
    “Of course not, silly,” Amanda declared.
    “No. I was rather pleased. Now I have a wealthy cousin who will come of age in March and then treat us all to a very wonderful party.”
    “Sophie!” Amanda rebuked in a stilted tone. She glanced around her. “Don’t speak in such a way here. Most of the family is fit to be tied. Your sister Beatrice looks as though she’d like to wring Fanny’s neck.”
    Fanny met Beatrice’s hateful stare and felt her strength wither.
    “Oh, I have a feeling Grandfather has managed to put me in a very difficult situation.”
    “Don’t worry about Bea,” Sophie said, offering her sister a smirk. “She complains the loudest, but she has no backbone.
    I can deal with her.”
    One by one family members got to their feet. The grumbling continued even as chairs scraped across the oak floors that surrounded the imported Turkish carpet her grandfather had always thought quite lovely. Fanny thought it rather ugly, but she’d never told him. And since it had been placed in Grandfather’s library, she was certain Grand-mère also considered it unattractive. Otherwise she would have placed it in the center of the grand entry hall for visitors to admire. Today, however, the rug seemed different, not nearly as ugly as the character exhibited by the Broadmoor relatives.
    While many of the family members scattered from the room, Uncle Jonas and Mr. Fillmore turned their backs. With their heads close together, they spoke in hushed tones.
    “We might as well leave,” Amanda said, getting to her feet.
    “You two go ahead without me. I need to ask some questions,” Fanny replied.
    Amanda nodded. “Very well. We’ll wait for you upstairs.”
    Fanny’s mind whirled with the uncertainty of concerns that seemed to have no answers. The death of Grandfather had turned her entire world upside down. She wasn’t even certain where she would live now. When the shuffles and murmurs ceased and the room was once again quiet, Uncle Jonas lifted his head.
    His jowls sagged when he caught sight of her. “What is it you want, Fanny?”
    “I have questions.”
    “ You? Why, you’re not even of legal age, Fanny. What questions could you possibly have that are important enough to detain Mr. Fillmore? I’m your guardian now, and I can see to any matter necessary.”
    Either her uncle’s tone of voice or an interest in Fanny’s questions brought several members of the immediate family scurrying back into the library like mice after a morsel of cheese. They folded their arms across their chests or sat on the edges of their chairs, their eyes shining with anticipation.
    Fanny drew in a deep breath. “I’m wondering about my personal living arrangements. Not immediately, of course, for I realize the family will soon depart for the Thousand Islands. But afterward. With my schooling complete . . .”
    “I don’t know that I consider your schooling complete. There is college to consider. And I believe my father planned for you to begin your grand tour of Europe after summering at the islands. It is much too soon to make such determinations. Once decisions are completed regarding your future, you’ll be advised.”
    An auburn curl escaped from her hairpins and curved alongside her cheek. “But I don’t want to go