Page 63 of The Heir's Fortune
“Of course I am right,” she said with a slight snort.
He stood, beginning to walk to the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked, raising her hands at all that surrounded her. He knew they still had much left to accomplish, but if he didn’t go now, he might never go.
“I have to talk to Madeline.”
“Now?” his sister said, her mouth open. “But we’ve only just begun!”
“I know,” he said, “and I’m sorry. I will return to help you, I promise. But if I do not go speak to her now?—”
“Then you might lose all of this courage that I have instilled in you?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes. Exactly.”
“Very well,” she said. “Go. Make my friend – and yourself – happy. You will find a way forward, Gideon. I am sure of it.”
He nodded as he opened the door, stopping when she called out to him again.
“Oh, and Gideon?”
“Yes?”
“If you see Devon, please ask him to join me. I could use some help. He started this with me. He might as well help me to finish it.”
“Of course,” he said, continuing down the corridor, past the paintings of his ancestors who lined the wall.
He stopped in front of the painting of his great-grandmother and great-grandfather. Their portrait had always been his favorite, but he had never been certain why. Now, as he stared at it, he better understood. They were not posed, nor sitting. They were standing, but instead of facing the painter, they were side by side, his arm around her back. They were turned partway toward one another, her mouth curled up in a half-smile, his in a full-on grin. The love between them was evident, even through the canvas and brush of the painter.
It hit him then. This treasure had been an adventure, yes, but perhaps the fortune wasn’t in what was found in the chests in the cave. Perhaps it was something else entirely.
Instead of walking in trepidation now, he hurried down the stairs with renewed purpose. He had to see Madeline – and he had to see her now.
Madeline was sittingon the floor of the drawing room on a blanket, little Jack on one side of her, and Scout on the other. The dog was overly gentle with the baby – it was Jack who was the one to watch out for, as he didn’t seem to know his own strength. Fortunately, Scout had a great amount of patience, simply moving out of the way whenever the baby attempted to grab a fistful of fur.
Madeline couldn’t help but laugh despite the ball of melancholy that had lodged itself in her chest, threatening to explode within her.
“Lady Madeline?”
She looked up to find the butler standing in the doorway somewhat hesitantly.
“Yes, Jacobs?”
“You have a visitor.”
Her heart began beating even harder as she waited for Gideon to appear, but it wasn’t Gideon. Another familiar figure filled the doorway. One with hair as dark as her own, a beard that was only beginning to turn salt and pepper, and a handsome, if weathered, face.
“Father?”
“Madeline, you look well,” he said as he entered, striding over and taking a seat on the sofa beside her. He had always treated her the same, even when she was a child – as though she was an acquaintance, someone to converse with instead of look after.
“Thank you,” she said. “This is Jack, Cassandra’s son.”
He nodded, not particularly interested in the child – but then, he never had been, had he?
“Fine-looking child,” he said, his foot bobbing up and down. “We do not need pleasantries, though, Madeline, do we?”
“We do not.”
