“He wanted us to be able to live our lives as usual while he made more money,” Evan continued. “He showed us a flier touting the discovery of more gold out west. We don’t know why he fell for that nonsense. We’ve seen fliers like that since we were children. No one ever comes back rich. But he was so sure that gold mining would be the solution to our sudden dilemma.”
“Believe me, Vi, we both tried to talk him out of it. We warned that he was gambling on a one-in-a-million chance of finding gold, that he should come up with a more realistic plan. But he wouldn’t be dissuaded.”
She glanced around the empty room again, and her shoulders slumped a little. “I suppose you’re going to tell me next that after seven months, he hasn’t found any gold?”
“Worse,” Evan replied.
“What could be worse?” And then she paled. “Don’t tell me he’s—he’s—?”
She couldn’t say the worddead, but Daniel jumped in, “No, not that. Of course not. But he was writing regularly, and then the letters stopped. And we ran out of money. Both happened two months ago, which is why we sent for you.”
“You should just let us tell you the whole of it, Vi, and then you might not have so many questions,” Evan suggested.
She doubted it, which was why she was tapping her foot even as she nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Father gave us half the loan money he received to use for the monthly payments and our own expenses, and took the other half to finance his mining venture.” Daniel grimaced. “But the payments on the loan escalated after four months, and the entire loan has to be paid off in one year. Father assured us he’d be back in three to five months, so he told us not to worry about it. But with these higher payments, we had to start selling things.”
“And we still haven’t had another letter from Father. But he seemed optimistic in the last one he wrote.”
“More like excited,” Daniel corrected his twin. “He tried his luck in two towns out west, but they turned out to be a pure waste of time. But in that last letter, he mentioned he’d just staked a claim in Butte, Montana, near a known silver mine.”
“That sounds promising,” she remarked. “He’s no doubt too busy mining to write.”
“For more than two months? It’s been about that long since we got his last letter.” Evan sounded somber.
Her shoulders slumped again. Either their father was dead—no, she refused to believe that when there were too many other possibilities to account for his silence, including his hating to write letters. She knew firsthand what a terrible correspondent he was.
And then she realized how dire the situation was. “Then you’ve already lost the house? Should you even be here? Why did you tell me to come here? How am I supposed to fix this?”
Daniel held up his hand to halt her questions. “The banker—Mr. Perry—did come pounding at the door. And he appeared to relish the fact that most of the furniture had been sold off, as if that meant the house would soon become the bank’s property. The only painting we hadn’t sold was your portrait. We couldn’t bear to part with it. He saw it hanging above the mantel in here and seemed mesmerized by it.”
Her eyes went to the fireplace, but the portrait wasn’t there. “Where is it?”
“He took it as last month’s payment and—and—” Daniel couldn’t finish.
Evan snorted and insisted, “Tell her.”
“Youtell her.”
“One of you better tell me, and quickly,” she snapped.
Evan looked down at her feet before saying, “He wants to marry you. He said he’d cancel the loan if you agree. We told him you weren’t even in the country, that it would take time to get you here. He said he would extend the loan until you arrived.”
It was too much to take in. In fact, she was having a hard time believing any of it. No money? Good God, were they actually paupers now? “I don’t suppose he’s reasonably young and personable?”
Daniel’s eyes widened. “You’d consider it?!”
“No, but I do want to know my options.”
Evan quickly said, “Not young, not nice, even fat, if you must know.”
And Daniel added, “But many women in our social circle make arranged marriages. And at least Perry is rich, lives here in Philadelphia, and is already willing. If you married him, we’d have you back with us, Violet. Our family would be together again, and the house problem would be solved!”
“So this is why you summoned me home, to toss me to a fat wolf? Now I know why your letter was so bloody vague!”
Daniel winced. “It’s not like that. We missed you! And we always assumed you’d make an arranged marriage—here in America. So you can’t imagine how distressing it was when you wrote in the spring that you hoped to marry over in England. It meant we’d never see you again! If Father had been here to read that letter, we would have convinced him to forbid it.”
Her eyes narrowed on Daniel. “Oh, you would, would you?”
