“Madelene didn’t kill your wife.” Simon struggled to contain his anger and his body began to tremble. “She was never the evil one in this house, Robert. That was you. She was the one piece of your wife you had left, and you should have treasured every moment you had with her.”
Slowly, he nodded. “Where is she?”
“Nowhere you’ll ever find her.”
“She’s my daughter. You have no right to her.”
His voice was escalating and Simon flipped open his razor as a reminder of his threats.
He shook his head and lowered his voice. “Please don’t take her from me.”
“If you’d been a better father, you’d still have her.” Simon dropped his foot onto the floor and slid his razor back into his pocket. “She is all that is good and wonderful, and you never deserved her.”
Robert leaned forward, shaking his head desperately. “No, please don’t take her from me,” he sobbed. “I can’t lose her too.”
“You disgust me, Robert.” Simon stood and loomed over the man. “You’re a selfish bully and a coward. Enjoy sharing the rest of your life with nothing but that portrait of your dead wife.”
Madelene hugged her shawl closed as the wind carried a chill over her. Selma had already spoiled her. She’d bought her multiple shawls, several bodices, skirts, two coats, boots, and all the other things she hadn’t had of her own since Auburn Ridge.
Selma smiled at her. “This fresh air and sunshine agrees with you.”
“It most certainly does.” Selma had been right, green had crept up the hillside, even in the short week she’d been there. The wildflowers were also filling in. It was stunningly beautiful.
“Thank you for accompanying me to Donna's. Our nightly ritual wouldn't be the same without her special tea.”
“Thank you for inviting me. She's a lovely woman.”
“She obviously approved of you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has her son David around the next time we visit.”
“I hope not. I’m sure he’s a pleasant enough man, but I’m not interested in meeting someone.”
“Your heart belongs to another.”
Madelene nodded.
“Will you tell me about him? How did you come to be with Mr. Allister?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
Selma shook her head.
“He rescued me.” She looked at Selma, debating if she should tell her the truth. Would she still want her here if she knew where Simon had found her? Probably. After all, this was the woman who sat around the fire every night eating sausages with her servants, all of them in their nightclothes. “From an asylum.”
“Oh, my dear girl.” She pressed her fingers over her mouth. “Your father sent you there?”
She nodded.
“So how did you meet Mr. Allister? He obviously cared a great deal about you to rescue you from a place like that.”
Madelene laughed and shook her head. “We hadn’t met, actually.” She couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “I’d only been there a day when he arrived, and he wasn’t there for me. But after breaking down the door, he found me, blindfolded and being forced into a tub of icy water.”
Selma gasped and stopped, shaking her head as if to make it not so.
“It was pretty awful, if I’m honest. But Simon being Simon, he would never have just left me there. It didn’t matter that he knew nothing about me.”
“Well, now I know why you fell in love with him. But then, why are you here with me?”
Madelene brushed a bit of gravel from the path with her foot. “He would have let me stay if I’d pressed him.” She still wondered every day if she’d made a mistake not fighting for him. “But I was never supposed to be his responsibility. He’d already done so much for me.”
