Leslie LaFoy Read Free Page A

returns to the city this fall.”
    Richard rubbed his forehead. “Is Henry's yacht fair game?” he asked, his hope wary.
    Lindsay nodded. Everything was fair game. It was just a matter of timing. She'd been quietly selling off family heirlooms for the last three months to pay the household expenses. Last week had seen some of her mother's silver serving pieces, a Persian rug, and six oil paintings carted off to the auction house. “Henry won't be happy with the news. He'll resist until the bitter end and make it as unpleasant as possible.”
    “Henry is never happy anyway,” Richard observed, backing his wheeled chair behind the desk. “Neither is Agatha. They were born wailing and they've never stopped.”
    “That's uncharitable,” Lindsay observed quietly, “but largely true, I'm afraid.” She laid the papers aside, rose, and reached for the silver pot on the corner of the desk. She felt Richard's scrutiny as she poured herself another cup of steaming coffee.
    “The company holds title to all the family property, Lindsay,” he said softly. “It's within my power of attorney to buy and sell as the needs of the company require. Your brother and sister have no legal say in regard to the actions I take.”
    “I don't either, for that matter,” she pointed out.
    “At least you have common sense and a head for business, girl. That can't be said for Henry and Agatha.”
    She returned to the divan and, slowly sinking down on the cool leather, confessed, “At the moment, my common sense is feeling absolutely overwhelmed by the circumstances.”
    “That's quite understandable. The situation's grave, Lindsay. We're teetering on the edge of bankruptcy.”
    How long would it be before they tumbled? she wondered. President Van Buren had assured the nation that the effects of the Panic would be short-lived, that businesswould rebound in a healthy and timely manner. In the year between then and now, matters had only become worse. There was no comfort in the knowledge that the MacPhaull Company wasn't the only business frantically bailing in a desperate attempt to stay afloat. Older and bigger companies than theirs hadn't been able to withstand the weight of the slowly collapsing economy. Factories and shops and businesses of every kind had ceased operations. Men all over the country were unable to find even the most menial of jobs. Faced with the loss of their homes and no food, they were, by the thousands, taking their families West. The land was free for the taking out there, and eating was more a matter of accurate shooting than having gold or silver in your pocket.
    What would happen to her when she ran out of things to sell? she wondered. Would she have to go West like the others? What would Henry and his family do? Where could Agatha go? And Richard? Richard didn't have any family. Paralyzed from the waist down, every day was a challenge for him. To even think of him trying to make an overland journey to a new life …
    A soft knocking against wood brought her from the gloomy morass of her thoughts. Ben stood in the open doorway. At her arched brow, he said, “Mr. Vanderhagen is here and requests a few moments of your time. He says it's a very important matter.”
    The family attorney had come to
them?
If Otis Vanderhagen had thought it necessary to leave his office … The look of stoic resolve on Richard's face wasn't reassuring. Her stomach cold and knotted, Lindsay rose and smoothed her skirts, saying, “Please show him in, Ben.”
    With a crisp nod, Ben backed out of the doorway. He'd barely disappeared when Otis Vanderhagen all but rolled into the room. At nine in the morning he reeked of cigar smoke and hair tonic. Tugging his waistcoat down over his considerable girth, he called out their names in a deafening roar. Lindsay couldn't keep from wincing and looking for an avenue of escape.
    She started as she realized that a second man stood in the doorway.
Filled
the doorway, actually. Height and, atthe