"Yes. Margo, one day I know you and Kate are going to be as happy as I am now. I can't wait to be a part of that."
"Let's get done with you first." She stopped at the door, turned again, just to look. She was afraid that nothing and no one would ever make her feel whatever it was that put that soft light in Laura's eyes. So, she thought as she quietly closed the door, she would settle for fame and fortune.
She found Mr. T. in his bedroom, muttering curses and fumbling with his formal tie. He looked so dashing in the dove gray morning coat that matched the Templeton eyes. He had broad shoulders a woman could lean on, she thought, and that wonderfully masculine height, which Josh had inherited. He was frowning now as he mumbled to himself, but his face was so perfect, the straight nose and tough chin, the crinkles around his mouth.
A perfect face, she thought as she stepped in. A father's face.
"Mr. T., when are you going to learn how to deal with those ties?"
His frown turned to a grin. "Never, as long as there's a pretty woman around to fuss with it for me."
Obligingly, she moved over to tidy the mess he'd made of it. "You look so handsome."
"Nobody's going to give me or any other man a second glance with my girls around. You look more beautiful than a wish, Margo."
"Wait until you see Laura." She saw the worry flicker into his eyes and kissed his smoothly shaven cheek. "Don't fret, Mr. T."
"My baby's grown up on me. It's hard to let him take her away from me."
"He could never do that. No one could. But I know. It's hard for me, too. I've been feeling sorry for myself all day, when I should be happy for her." Footsteps sounded in the hall, rushing. Kate with her cam era, Margo thought, or a servant hurrying to take care of some last-minute detail. There were always people in Templeton House, she mused, filling it with sound and light and movement. You never felt alone there.
Her heart hitched again at the thought of leaving, of being alone. Yet mixed with the fears was such dizzy anticipation. Like a first sip of champagne, when the rich fizz of it exploded on the tongue. A first kiss, that soft, sultry meeting of lips. There were so many firsts she yearned to experience. "Everything's changing, isn't it, Mr. T.?"
"Nothing stays the same forever, however much you'd like it to. In a few weeks you and Kate will be off to college, Josh will be back at law school. Laura will be a wife. Susie and I will be rattling around this house like a bunch of old bones." Which was one of the reasons he and his wife were thinking of relocating to Europe. "The house won't be the same without you."
"The house will always be the same. That's what's so wonderful about it." How could she tell him she was leaving that very night? Running toward something she could see as clearly as her own face in the mirror. "Old Joe will keep on guarding his rosebushes, and Mrs. Williamson will be lording it over everyone in the kitchen. Mum will go on polishing the silver because she doesn't think anyone else can do it properly. Mrs. T. will drag you out to the tennis court every morning and trounce you. You'll be on the phone scheduling meetings or barking orders."
"I never bark," he said with a gleam in his eye. "You always bark, that's part of your charm." She wanted to weep, for the childhood that had gone so fast though she had thought it would never end. For the part of her life that was behind her now, though she had strained so hard to pull away. For the coward that lived inside her that shrank from telling him she was leaving. "I love you, Mr. T."
"Margo." Misreading her, he pressed his lips to her brow. "Before too much longer I'll be walking you down the aisle, giving you to some handsome young man who couldn't possibly be good enough for you."
She made herself laugh, because crying would spoil everything. "I'm not getting married to anyone unless he's exactly like you. Laura's waiting for you." She drew back, reminding herself that this was Laura's father. Not hers. This was Laura's day. Not hers. "I'll go see if the cars are ready."
She hurried downstairs. And there was Josh, staggering in his formal wear, frowning at her as she paused breathlessly. "Don't start on me," she ordered. "Laura's coming down in a minute."
"I'm not going to start on you. But we're going to talk later."
"Fine." She had no intention of talking with him. The minute the last grain
of rice was thrown, she would make a quick and quiet exit. She carried the hat she'd brought down from her room to the mirror, instinctively arranging the wide blue brim to the most flattering advantage.
There's my fame, she thought, studying her face. And my fortune. By God, she would make it work. Lifting her chin, she met her own eyes and willed it to begin.
Chapter Two
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Ten years later
On the wild, wild cliffs above the restless Pacific, Margo watched the storm build. Black clouds boiled in a black sky, crushing every hint of starlight with their weight and temper. The wind howled like a feral wolf hunting for blood. Needle-bright spears of lightning slashed and snapped and shot the jagged rocks and spewing surf into sharp relief. The witchy scent of ozone stung the air before thunder exploded.
It seemed that her welcome home, even from nature, was not to be a gentle one.
An omen? she wondered, jamming her hands into her jacket pockets to protect them from the biting wind. She could hardly expect anyone at Templeton House to greet her with open arms and joyous smiles. The fatted calf, she thought with a wry smile, will not be served for this prodigal.
She had no right to expect it.
Wearily, she reached up and pulled the pins out of the smooth twist to let her pale blond hair fly free. It felt good, that small liberation, and she tossed the pins over the edge. She remembered quite suddenly that when she'd been a young girl she and her two best friends had thrown flowers over that same ledge.