Page 53 of Heiress Gone Wild

“Poor Papa,” Clara said with a sigh. “He wanted to be a good businessman, but he wasn’t. It must have been terrible for him, knowing his father and his son were both better at business than he was.”

“And his daughters, too,” Irene said stoutly. “I like to think Clara and I have both handled things rather well. And after Papa died, Jonathan was able to invest in the company, which enabled us to expand for the first time since my grandfather’s day.”

“I run Deverill Publishing now,” Clara said with pride. “It’s been a lot of work, and without Rex’s help, I don’t think I could manage, but I do love it so.”

“You didn’t always,” Irene reminded her.

“No,” Clara agreed. “I was like you, Marjorie. I wanted to do the season, find a husband, have a family. But when Jonathan decided to stay in America while Irene was away on honeymoon, I had no choice but to take over.”

“Were you very angry with your brother?” Marjorie asked.

“Angry? What an inadequate word! If Idaho wasn’t on the other side of the world,” she added, raising her voice so that Jonathan could hear, “I’d have gone there and shot him.”

“Don’t I know it?” he said as he came to join them. “Why do you think I stayed away? I’m not an idiot.”

“That’s a debatable point, dear brother.”

Watching them, Marjorie was glad to note the ease with which Jonathan and his sisters had so quickly slipped into a mode of teasing and laughing and chaffing each other. That, she realized, was what families were—or at least, what they were supposed to be. They quarreled and made up, teased and squabbled, and circumstances might send them to different ends of the earth, but underneath it all, there was a bedrock of love and support, acceptance and forgiveness. There was loyalty. She’d missed all that.

Suddenly, her heart twisted with a bittersweet pang. Never had she felt the pain of her lack of a family as acutely as she did now.

“Penny,” a low voice murmured in her ear, and she turned to find Jonathan right beside her. “For your thoughts,” he prompted as she gave him an uncomprehending look.

She forced herself to smile. “They’re not worth that much,” she said and turned quickly to Clara. “So, you run the company? An impressive accomplishment.”

“Terrifying is more like it. But once I accepted the situation, I began to enjoy it. It’s amazing how not getting what you want can lead to amazing discoveries.”

“Such as?” Marjorie asked, curious.

“How strong I could be, how to trust my own judgement—”

“How to be bossy,” Rex cut in as he joined their circle.

“Well, yes, that, too,” she agreed as Marjorie and Irene laughed. “But most important, I learned that sometimes the things we fight the most turn out to be the best things.”

Her smile faded to a grave expression, and she bit her lip, looking at her brother. “That’s why I could never truly be angry with you, you know. Your decision changed my dream into something so much bigger and so much more wonderful than anything I’d imagined. I wouldn’t change a thing, Jonathan. And I mean that.”

“I’m glad, petal.” He leaned toward her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “So glad.”

“Relieved, too, I’ll wager,” Rex said. “Had you come home you’d have been saddled with Lady Truelove instead of me.”

“What?” Jonathan and Marjorie said together, making the others laugh.

“You’re Lady Truelove?” Jonathan asked, staring at him. “You are?”

Rex grinned. “Need any advice?” he asked and bowed. “I am at your service. It’s supposed to be a secret, though, so don’t tell anyone. Clara hired me to do the column while Irene was gallivanting across Europe, and I still do it to this day.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jonathan muttered. “That makes my decision to stay away even more sensible.”

Clara jabbed him in the ribs.

“What?” he asked, giving his sister an innocent look. “I’d have made a terrible advice columnist.”

“Come to the offices tomorrow,” Rex suggested. “I’ll be there in the afternoon. I can give you a tour, and we can discuss the financial condition. You own a third of the company and you ought to see how it’s doing.”

Jonathan shook his head. “Another day, perhaps,” he said. “I must visit a tailor. My tweeds are in tatters.”

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, old chap,” Rex replied, looking him over, “but your evening suit’s not much better.”

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