Irene Brand

Heiress


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Turning to the attorney, she said, “And you, too, please. That way, I won’t feel such a stranger.”

      “Of course,” he agreed.

      “Allison,” Celestine started again, a smile lighting her brilliant eyes, “these keys belonged to your uncle. There’s a key here to everything in this building. I don’t know that Mr. Page had any occasion to use them, but it was simply a symbol of his ownership. He could investigate anything he wanted to.” She dropped the large set of keys back into the drawer and handed Allison a ring with two keys on it. “These are the ones you should carry. They open the front and rear entrances and your office door.”

      “This will be your office, Allison,” Curnutt said. “Don’t you want to try on the owner’s chair for size?” He smiled at her.

      “No, not today,” Allison said, and her facial features felt frozen. Almost as if it were an animate object, the massive leather chair terrified her.

      Perhaps sensing Allison’s stress, Celestine said, “Do you have time for a cup of coffee or tea?”

      When the attorney assented, Celestine motioned them to a cozy corner of her office. They sat in easy chairs, and Curnutt took up the morning newspaper, placed conveniently for the company’s visitors. He offered Allison a section of the paper, but her mind was too muddled to concentrate on reading.

      Celestine opened a nearby louvered door into a small kitchenette. “I have coffee ready, and hot water for tea,” she said, “but we have juice and soft drinks, too.”

      Allison wasn’t normally a coffee drinker, but the stress of the day was wearing on her, and she needed a stimulant of some kind. After Celestine served Curnutt and Allison with coffee and placed a fruit tray on the table before them, she prepared a small tray, tapped on Benton’s door and served him and his customer. Allison munched on some grapes, sipped the hot coffee and contemplated the day’s activities. Perhaps the situation wasn’t as bad as she had suspected. She had detected no outright hostility among the employees, and in time, she might win their confidence. Celestine, who displayed all the charm of a hostess in her own home, had done much to put Allison at ease.

      While Celestine was busy at her desk and Curnutt was absorbed in the newspaper, Allison reviewed her conversation with Benton Lockhart. She wished that she had brought the album containing the picture of the Benton she’d met in Indianapolis, for, in spite of his denial, she thought he was the same person she had met there. His neatly trimmed whiskers did cover most of his facial features, but one of the things she had most remembered about Benton had been his tawny hair and warm gray eyes.

      Let me assure you, Miss Sayre, that I am not the same man you heard speak in that spiritual crusade. That could be interpreted in various ways—it could mean that he was the same person, but his attitude had changed, or it could mean that he had not been there. She couldn’t figure it out And what good would it do her if she did learn the truth? It wouldn’t be wise to delve into the man’s past. If she learned how to manage this firm, it would be with the help of Benton Lockhart; she couldn’t antagonize him.

      After Celestine answered the phone a couple of times and searched out some files, which she delivered to Benton’s office, she joined them with a glass of juice in her hand. “I suppose Columbus seems like a small town to you after living in Chicago,” she said.

      “I didn’t realize what a large area Chicago covered until I saw it from the airplane when we flew down here a few weeks ago to see Mr. Curnutt. We live in the suburbs and do most of our shopping in the area where we live. We go to downtown Chicago only for special events. But I think Columbus is a fine city, and I’m sure I’ll like living here. Could you advise me about finding a small furnished apartment? I want something fairly close to this business and not too expensive.”

      Curnutt laid aside his paper. “Allison, I know it’s difficult for you to comprehend, but you’re a very rich woman now and you don’t have to be conservative in your choice of living quarters. It will be several months before you have complete control of Harrison’s property, but I’ll instruct the bookkeeper here to put you on the payroll, and you’ll receive a bimonthly salary as do the employees. Harrison drew a modest salary, just enough to take care of his expenses, and allowed the rest of the profit to build up the coffers of the company. I would suggest that you do the same for the time being. Do you have any way to anticipate your expenses?”

      “I made twenty thousand dollars yearly at my previous job. On that I lived in my own apartment, had a car and saved a little money.”

      “We’ll double that amount until you see how much you need.”

      Allison pulled at the collar of her blouse, feeling as if her breathing had been hampered. Forty thousand dollars a year! Her father had supported a wife and three children on less than that. Why would a single woman need so much?

      “But about your living quarters,” Curnutt continued, “I had assumed that you would live in Harrison’s home, which is yours now.”

      “Oh, yes, Allison, you must consider living there,” Celestine insisted. “It’s a wonderful house.”

      “Didn’t you say it was a three-story home? I don’t need that much room, and wouldn’t the upkeep be expensive?”

      He smiled, and she knew he was amused by her conservatism, but her parents had had no choice but to be conservative; otherwise they couldn’t have supported a family on one salary so Beatrice could stay home and take care of the children. Even with riches at her disposal, it was a habit she wouldn’t lose easily.

      “I’m sure your uncle would be pleased with your attitude toward wealth, for he wasn’t a big spender himself, and you’re right, the house is expensive to maintain. Although Harrison didn’t make any stipulation whether you should sell or keep the house, I suggest that you live there for a period of time before you make the decision. It is a largc house, but the caretakers occupy the third floor and take care of cleaning and maintenance, so it shouldn’t be a burden to you.”

      “Even sight unseen, I’m willing to take your advice, but I would like to see the house when it’s convenient for you to take me.”

      He checked his watch and took his appointment book from his pocket. “We can go right now. I have a dinner appointment at six o’clock, but we have time.” Turning to Celestine, he said, “Please telephone Minerva that we’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

      The lawyer traveled on High Street until he turned left on Buttles, drove past Goodale Park to Neil Avenue, where he turned north again. The quiet atmosphere of the area and the Victorian homes on both sides of the street made Allison feel as if she had stepped back in time. Would the Brontë sisters wander out of one of the doors on their way to church? Perhaps Mary Todd Lincoln would be peering from a window, anxiously waiting for her tardy husband. Craning her neck to see each house they passed, Allison was impressed with the asymmetrical brick-and-stucco homes, many massed around a central tower or spire, marked by steeply pitched roofs and narrow arched windows accentuated by hood moldings.

      Curnutt drove a couple of blocks before parking the car at street level. He pointed to a massive brick building.

      “This surely isn’t it!”

      “Harrison Page bought this house about twenty-five years ago. After his wife died, he devoted his time to decorating and furnishing the home as it would have been when it was first built. The house is yours now, and I hope you’ll be pleased with the results of his efforts. Shall we go in?”

      “Allow me to sit here for a few minutes and take this all in. Yesterday I thought of a nursery rhyme about an old woman whose appearance was altered, and she kept saying, ‘Lawk a mercy on me, this is none of I!’ I don’t even feel like myself. Nor do I know my own mind. Am I grateful to Uncle Harrison for gifting me with all these material possessions, or should I resent his interference with a life-style that has been sufficient for twenty-four years? Ownership of this house is more daunting than ownership of the publishing company. I don’t know how I can cope with this change in my life.”

      Curnutt