"True and you are an unmarried female. We are not in England any longer, and I fear a woman with no husband will not be taken seriously in her inheritance here," he agreed. "I've taken care of it as much as possible, though. It would behoove you to find a husband before I go, young lady, and it would make your father happy."
My mouth dropped open. Nothing came out, so I closed it, amazed I had just been told to find a man so I wasn't disinherited.
Not that it mattered, but I was beginning to understand the need for a feminist movement better than I ever had in any class I took.
None of this will be real in a couple of weeks, I reminded myself. Another thought surfaced, one I realized was probably important. Whatever I did here, the real-Josie might have to live with when she returned. So maybe being able to claim an inheritance was a good thing.
"But, on this, I will not press you this time," John continued. His look at me was tender, loving, like a doting father who truly didn't know a stranger sat before him. "If you choose to marry soon, so be it. If you do not, so be it. I am grateful to have you as my daughter."
"Thank you," I murmured. "About my return. I -"
"I am dying, Josie."
I shut up once more, staring at him. He was thin, yes, but he didn't look ill.
"The doctor said I'd be gone in a week."
As much as I didn't want to connect with people who had been dead for two hundred years, I found myself plunged into a moral dilemma. If Carter put me here for a mini-vacay, then he had to know the real Josie was going to be gone just as long. If John died during the time period …
Which was worse? Letting him believe I was his daughter for a few days? Or revealing the truth and knowing he might never know peace of mind about his daughter, if she didn't return before he passed?
Not exactly the vacation I had hoped for. My heart gave me one answer, my mind a conflicting one.
"What was it you wanted to tell me, my dear?" John asked, blue eyes settling on me.
Before I spoke, I knew my heart had won out. "I'm just glad to be home," I replied. "I am sorry I can't remember much of anything."
"The doctor said you might never. Said you likely got hurt a year ago and wandered off, never knowing who you were, until you were found by our savage neighbors."