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into these situations? She should have screamed her refusal. Well, it was too late now.
    The orchestra began to play the promenade music while Jefferson and Amanda retreated to the rear of the line. Fanny lifted her chin and continued to step forward, with Mr. Snodgrass resting heavily on her arm. Could the man even dance? she wondered.
    Jefferson had thoroughly enjoyed her embarrassment. Well, turnabout was fair play. She’d have her chance to return the favor once they were at the island. Fanny grinned, relishing the thought. But her smile soon vanished. Instead of spending her summer at the island playing jokes on her cousin, she’d be caring for Grandfather in Rochester.
    When the final chords of the promenade waltz finished, Fanny freed herself of Mr. Snodgrass. She helped him to a chair, fetched him a glass of punch, and promptly escaped to the other side of the room before he could shout a marriage proposal in her direction. Kindness was one thing, but dealing with Mr. Snodgrass for the remainder of the evening went above and beyond what she could endure. The waltz itself had been sufficient torment. Dancing with Mr. Snodgrass had been comparable to attempting a waltz with one of her young nephews, only worse. Much worse.

    Fanny didn’t need to concern herself with Mr. Snodgrass throughout the remainder of the evening. As soon as he’d consumed his liquid refreshment, he fell asleep in his chair. Once some of their guests began departing, Uncle Jonas called for the old man’s carriage. After a final shouted warning about the war in Cuba and the state of the economy, Mr. Snodgrass bade the remaining guests farewell.
    Jefferson stepped to Fanny’s side. “I think you should have accompanied Mr. Snodgrass to his carriage, Cousin. He obviously is smitten with you.”
    Fanny jutted her chin. “I believe I’ll ignore your silly remark.”
    “You’re letting a good catch get away, dear Fanny. Mr. Snodgrass is quite wealthy. All the widowed dowagers would love to get their claws into him. Didn’t you see the evil looks Widow Martin cast in your direction while you were dancing with him?” Jefferson folded his arms across his broad chest and grinned like a Cheshire cat.
    Without further thought, Fanny stomped on his foot. He yelped and danced about, though Fanny knew she’d not hurt him in the least. He’d probably felt no more than a slight thump. Jefferson continued to hop about until his mother walked toward them with a solemn look on her face. Fanny wasn’t certain whether she or Jefferson would be upbraided for their unseemly behavior.
    “All of the family needs to go to the parlor immediately.” That said, Jefferson’s mother continued to seek out their other relatives.
    Amanda grasped Fanny’s hand. “What do you suppose this is all about?”
    Jefferson fell in behind them. Soon Sophie caught up with the trio, clearly annoyed. “Why have we been summoned to the parlor?”
    “None of us know,” Fanny replied. “I doubt we’ll be detained for long.” “I hope not. I promised John Milleson he could accompany me home.”
    Jefferson exhaled a low whistle. “Does your father know about John?”
    “My father wouldn’t care even if he did know, so you can’t use that bit of information against me, Jefferson.” She chucked him beneath the chin as though he were a little boy rather than a young man four years her senior.
    Jonas Broadmoor stood in the center of the room, watching as each of the family members filed into the parlor. When they’d all assembled, he nodded for one of the servants to close the pocket doors. “I received word from one of the servants at Broadmoor mansion that my father died a short time ago.”
    Grandfather dead? It was Fanny’s last thought before she fainted.

4
    Friday, June 18, 1897
    The day dawned bright and warm, a glorious summer day that Grandfather would have enjoyed. Fanny could easily picture him sitting on the balcony outside his bedroom on a day such as