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Chapter 15

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Central Park West, NYC

May 30, 1938

“I don’t understand the family, dynamic,” Ella confided in Daniel one day. “You, seem to work hard and Reggie squanders. With the family fortune how is it that he always seems to be in need.”

“Ah, that is simple,” Daniel seemed amused. “The first American Muraille drafted a carefully worded will setting up the family trust. His intentions had been to ensure that the Murailles would be hard working and self-sufficient. At the moment, an heir is born. Or rather a legitimate heir born into the family, we share in the profits of the family business. Four times a year, we receive an equal share of the profits.

Beginning on ones’ twenty first birthday. Prior to that day, the money is set aside. You can imagine how eager we are to reach that birthday. Temperance being older than I warned me, not to squander my first check. I of course went out and bought a yacht among other shiny things. Before my first quarterly check arrived, I was living on the boat. I had nowhere else to go.

Thankfully, Temperance allowed me to move into an apartment in this building. It was a lesson well learned. Now, the trust as I said pays out to legitimate heirs only. The theory being that would act a moral compass. Ironic, since Jean-Michele was in fact the bastard son of a Parisian whore. He came here to fight for the colonies and made quite a name for himself. He married into a fine Southern family. Only his wife seemed to approve of him. He and his wife settled in Boston since they were not welcome down on the plantation. Which in itself was a fortuitous turn. His wife’s family all died of yellow fever. He inherited her family’s fortune.”

“He inherited her family’s fortune?”

“She was a woman.”

“Of course,” Ella grumbled. “So, this trust was designed to inspire the men to go out and make a name for themselves?”

“Yes. Spouses don’t get a dime after the Muraille passes on.”

“And the Muraille women?”

“We are expected to be elegant, well educated, perform notable work for charity and to marry well.” Temperance interjected as she entered the sitting room. “Giving my new assistant a bit of family history?”

“Yes,” Daniel boasted. “Preston is the most eligible Muraille bachelor.”

“Not you?”

“I run a close second,” he snickered. “However, since Preston has allowed the military to cloth, feed and house him for his entire adult life, his estate has simply grown. Under Tempe’s careful guidance of course. Helena and Iris have been scheming for years to unite the two. Marrying her fortune with his nest egg would move them to the top of social register.”

“Thankfully, my little brother will have none of it.” Temperance jested.

“Isn’t Helena close to you,” Ella chose her words carefully.

“Not as close as she would like,” Temperance curtly informed her. “Daniel, we need to discuss a few matters before the next board meeting. Ella would you mind taking notes?”