Seneca Falls Inheritance by Miriam Grace Monfredo

Author:Miriam Grace Monfredo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: women, mystery, history, civil war
Publisher: Miriam Grace Monfredo

Twenty-two

several hours later, Brendan Fitzwater bent over and placed his violin carefully in its case. Then he very slowly collapsed at the edge of the platform. At first there was no alarm among those around him. Brendan was a prankster and they assumed he was clowning. But when he did not respond to offers of yet another whiskey, friends had reason for concern. Quentin Ives was hastily summoned and the party held its breath.

‘Too much fiddling, too much whiskey," was Dr. Ives’s diagnosis. Brendan was hoisted with a hearty cheer and carried into the house to sleep off his excesses.

Glynis watched the proceedings without much worry. She knew Brendan. Dr.Ives returned to the small group on the terrace and dropped back into his chair. Jeremiah Merrycoyf said to Katherine Ives, "A demanding profession, medicine."

Katherine sighed. "It goes in fits and starts. There are stretches where he’s home every night like a normal husband, and then others when I won’t see him for days at a time."

Glynis thought of Cullen—and resolved not to. From where she sat, she could see that more than a few guests had already left. Simon Sheridan had excused himself before the desserts were served, pleading a busy night at the hotel and making Vanessa lament the deplorable lack of eligible men that year. Glynis recalled that Vanessa lamented this every year.

She hadn’t realized until Karl left that all five members of the library board had been present at Ushers’ that night. It was now obvious who was disputing her contract renewal. The rumor had come to her from Aurora by way of Lydia Abernathy. Glynis assumed it was accurate, since Ambrose Abernathy was a member of the board. The other four members were Karl Steicher, Jeremiah Merrycoyf, Seabury S. Gould, and, of course, the Reverend Magnus Justine.

She eliminated Merrycoyf as opposition, if for no other reason than her certainty that he would have told her if he had reservations about her work. And Lydia had said Ambrose had no objection to renewing her contract.

At the moment, Seabury Gould was seated opposite her, describing the erratic performance of windmills with regard to pumping water for railroad trains. Often trains were delayed for days—like ships becalmed at sea, Glynis imagined. The problem could be solved, Gould explained, by steam-powered pumps. A pleasant-looking, intelligent man, Gould was clean-shaven but for long-whiskered sideburns that quivered with enthusiasm. He had just become president of a newly formed pump manufacturing company, and though Glynis was not wildly interested in pumps, Seabury S. Gould could make them sound like the saviors of mankind. She thought he was satisfied with her work, at least she hoped so. Not just because he was persuasive. Because she liked him.

Friedrich Steicher had stacked the board with his associates, and Glynis wondered if her current problems with the reverend Justine were rooted in some concealed rancor toward his deceased sponsor. But no; she had probably rancored him sufficiently all by herself.

Earlier, Justine had approached her. The evening was

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