“Might have what?” Eunice pressed when Arthur simply stopped talking.
“It doesn’t matter now” was all he said. “What does matter, though, is getting you back to Montana. I gave my word, Eunice, and my word means everything to me. I cannot honor that word if you don’t at least show up in Butte to prove you’re still alive.”
“Can’t you just go in my stead? I can send you with a letter, proving I’m still breathing.”
“I don’t think that’ll be enough to convince your great-uncle Raymond. There’s a lot of money at stake that your relatives intend to divide amongst them.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to learn to live with their actions because I’m not returning to Montana.”
“You’re being unreasonable about this, and I have no idea why.”
“It’s complicated.”
Arthur considered her for a long moment, a less than reassuring gleam flickering through his eyes before he sat forward. “What about your mother?”
“What about her?”
“You mentioned seven years ago that even though your mother had run off unexpectedly, never to return, you still adored her and understood her erratic behavior, since that behavior was brought about when your father died before you were born.”
“Your father died before you were born?” Judith asked, pulling her attention from Ivan, the length of time the two of them had continued staring at each other more than telling.
“He did,” Eunice said. “And I’m afraid Mother never recovered from his death, telling me on a few occasions that my father had been the love of her life and she never intended on marrying again.”
Arthur frowned. “Do you know if she inherited any money from her late husband?”
“He was a younger son, and I’m not aware that he had much money to his name.” Eunice blew out a breath. “From what I’ve been told, Grandfather was furious at Mother for marrying a man a month after she met him while attending finishing school in New York. Grandfather immediately concluded my father was a fortune hunter, and I don’t think he was all that perturbed when my father died after suffering an unexpected illness.”
“But if your mother didn’t inherit money from her late husband,” Arthur continued, “she should at least be told about her inheritance and that it’s at risk.”
“Allow me to admit that as a strategy, that was an exceptional one, Arthur. However, I have no idea where my mother is and haven’t seen her for ten years.” Eunice settled a smile on Judith, who was watching her with sympathy in her eyes. “And there’s no need to look distraught about that, Judith. My mother was not what I’d consider attentive, so even though I adored her, I never depended on her. With that said, though, I do like to have reminders of her around, which is why I didn’t balk when you brought that painting of hers into the agency to use as inspiration while you manned the reception room.”
Judith raised a hand to her throat. “Your mother is Etta—the artist who inspires me the most?”
“She is. But again, I have no idea where she is, nor am I going to devote time to look for her.”
“What if I were to tell you that you don’t need to spend any time at all searching for her because ... I know where she is,” Judith said.
“What?”
“Etta is often the topic of conversation when I’m with my artistic friends.” Judith smiled. “It just so happens that one of those friends had the privilege of staying at the artist colony Etta formed. He then very kindly gave me the address to that colony, but I’ve yet to work up the nerve to visit.” Judith’s eyes flashed with excitement. “I wouldn’t be nervous at all, though, if you were with me, and if you’d allow me to go with you when you reunite with your mother.”
“I have an agency to run. I don’t have time to travel right now.”
“But it won’t take long at all to reach your mother’s artist colony because it’s right on the river—a short drive from Daphne and Herman’s Hudson estate.”
Arthur rubbed his hands together. “And how convenient is that? Why, it’s as if the stars have aligned, and those stars are telling us that we should travel to the Hudson as soon as possible, which means you need to clear your calendar so we can leave tomorrow morning at the latest.”
CHAPTER
Sixteen
“Not that you’re going to want to hear this, Eunice, but after listening to your diatribe against Arthur for the past hour, complete with complaints about his character, his handsome face, and the way he makes you long to punch him, I’m left wondering if the contentious relationship both of you share is something entirely different than a clash of two strong personalities. You seem to bring out unusual emotions in each other—exasperation and irritation, just to name a few. But curiously enough, I’m beginning to think that you enjoy your exchanges with Arthur, which is quite telling.”
Eunice stopped smoothing out the skirt of her black traveling dress and settled her gaze on Daphne, who was sitting on a lovely chaise by the window of her Hudson home, her feet tucked underneath her and her ever-present notepad on her lap.
“I’m not certain I understand what could possibly be telling about my exchanges with Arthur,” Eunice said, even though she knew exactly what Daphne was suggesting. Quite frankly, she’d been contemplating that very thing ever since she’d parted ways with Arthur the day before, telling him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t going to be accompanying her on her trip to reunite with her long-lost mother.
Truth be told, it might have been prudent to have him withher to explain the intricacies of her grandfather’s will and vast holdings, but she’d made an on-the-spot decision not to spend additional time in his company because...
