Fortune (3 page)

“Baby,” she murmured, shaking her daughter gently, “sweetheart, it's time to get up.”

Grace whimpered and rolled over, crushing her favorite teddy bear to her chest. Madeline shook her again. “Come on, sweetie, we're going on a trip. Time to wake up.”

Grace yawned. She cracked open her eyes. Her lips curved up. “Hi, Mommy.”

Madeline's heart turned over. She never got enough of hearing her daughter call her that, never got enough of that sweet, baby voice or the way the little girl looked at her—as if Madeline were the most important, the best, person in the world.

She loved Grace so much it terrified her. She prayed she was doing the right thing.

“I need you to dress, baby. Your clothes are right over there.” She pointed to the rocking chair, where she had laid out her daughter's garments. She saw that her hand shook. “Can you do that for me?”

Grace nodded and sat up; she stuck her thumb in her mouth—a habit Pierce couldn't abide—and eyed her mother. “Mommy's upset.”

“No, honey. Just rushed.”

“Where are we going?”

Madeline hesitated. What could she tell her daughter? That she planned to drive until she could drive no more, her only goal to put as much distance between them and the Monarchs as possible? Hardly. Instead, she tapped Grace on the nose. “It's going to be so much fun. Just you and me.”

“Not Daddy?”

Madeline shook her head. “He has to work.”

Grace accepted her explanation without question or murmur. The truth was, Grace and Pierce weren't especially close; he was always busy, and when he did have time for Grace he was critical—she was too loud, too messy, she didn't pronounce words correctly. He hardly ever hugged or kissed her; he always spoke of her in terms not of love but of value. To the family. To the business.

“Not Grandfather or Grandmother?”

Madeline shook her head. “Nope.”

Grace curved her arms around herself. “Not brother?”

“Not brother,” Madeline answered sharply.
Never brother.
“We're going to have such fun, just you and me.”

“Okay.” Yawning again, Grace climbed out of bed. “Clothes over there?”

“That's right, honey.” Madeline went to the nursery door, stopping when she reached it. “You get dressed. I'll be right back, then I'll help with your socks and shoes.”

“Thanks, Mommy.”

Madeline squatted and held out her arms. “I think I need a hug.”

Grace trotted over. She wrapped her chubby little arms around Madeline's neck and squeezed. Madeline hugged her back, hard.

“I love you, sweetheart. More than anything. I always will.”

“Me, too. More than anything.”

Madeline kissed her, then stood. “I'll be right back. Get dressed.”

Madeline ducked into the hall, glancing at her watch again as she did. Time was slipping by. Too much time. She had to put as much distance between her and this family as she could, as fast as she could. When Pierce and Adam realized what she had done, they would use their every resource to find her.

She ran to her and Pierce's bedroom. There, she raced across to the bed and, getting down on her hands and knees, yanked the suitcases out from under. With trembling fingers she unlocked hers, looked it over to make sure nothing had been moved, then tucked the pouch of gems inside. That done, she snapped the case shut, stood and bent for the bags.

Pierce knew.

The thought came to her suddenly, with it an overwhelming feeling of dread. A sense of foreboding. She looked over her shoulder, half expecting to see him standing behind her, the expression in his eyes murderous.

The doorway was empty.

Even so, a shudder moved up her spine.
He knew. Dear Jesus, he knew.

But how could he?
She shook her head. If he did, he would have disturbed the contents of her suitcase. He would have confronted her.

She had to get a grip, she told herself, hoisting up the bags. She had to keep her wits about her—for Grace's sake. And her own. If Pierce caught her, she didn't know what he might do.

He might even kill her.

Madeline took a deep, calming breath. Twenty minutes from now she and Grace would be on the road, and on their way to starting a new life, one free of this unhappy, twisted family. Everything was going according to plan.

After peeking into the hall to make sure no one was about, she returned to the nursery. Grace was dawdling, having gotten distracted in the bathroom.

“Mommy, I brushed my teeth really good. For a long time, every tooth.”

Madeline took another deep breath. Losing her cool with her daughter would not hurry her. “Good girl,” she said with elaborate calm. “Come on now, we have to hurry.”

Grace trotted back into the room. “Why?”

Madeline held out Grace's jumper. “Why what?”

“Why do we have to hurry?”

“Because we do.” Madeline's voice rose; she heard the edge of hysteria in it. She fought it back and smiled at her daughter. “I'll help you dress.”

She did and within minutes Grace was ready to go. Madeline sat her on the rug next to the packed suitcase, handed her her favorite toy, then started filling Grace's suitcase, throwing in clothes and toiletries and toys, only the essentials and a few of Grace's favorites.

A knock sounded at the nursery door. Madeline swung toward it, heart thundering. The knock came again.

“Mrs. Monarch? I'm leaving for the market, is there anything special you need?”

The housekeeper. She hadn't left yet.

As if reading her mind, the woman said, “I got hung up on the phone with the plumber. They're sending someone by this afternoon. Is there anything you need?”

Madeline struggled to find her voice. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Mrs. Monarch? Are you all right?”

Madeline heard the question, the concern in the other woman's voice. Panic pumped through her; if she didn't answer, the housekeeper would come into the nursery. “I…I'm fine, Alice. And no, there's nothing I need. You…you go on, we're just fine.”

“All right, Mrs. Monarch. Oh, Mr. Monarch's office called, looking for him. Apparently, he forgot something and is on his way home.”

Pierce? On his way home?

Madeline struggled to breathe evenly. She thanked the woman, reminded her that she and Grace would be gone to the zoo all afternoon, then waited several moments to make sure the housekeeper had left before she jumped into action.

How long? she wondered, completely panicked. How long until Pierce walked through that door? She turned back to Grace's suitcase and did a quick inventory. She would just have to leave the rest; they would have to make do. There was no time. No time.

“Mommy!” Grace squealed with delight. “Look!”

Madeline swung around in time to see Grace emptying the pouch of gems into her lap.

With a cry, Madeline leaped across to her daughter. “No! Bad girl!” She snatched the pouch from Grace's hands. The jewels flew, scattering across the wooden floor.

For one moment, Grace stared blankly at her, as if in shock. Then she burst into tears.

Madeline hardly ever raised her voice with Grace. She could count on one hand the times she had yelled at her.

“I'm sorry, honey. Daddy wanted us to have the pretty stones for our trip. But they're very special, we mustn't play with them.” She hugged her daughter. “It's all right, sweetheart. Come, help me pick them up. Can you do that?”

Still whimpering, Grace nodded and together they retrieved the stones, put them back into the pouch, the pouch into the suitcase, Madeline painfully aware of each passing moment. She snapped the case shut, locked it this time, then did the same to Grace's. “Come on, sweetie, time to go.”

The nursery door opened. Madeline swung toward it and froze. Not Pierce on his way home, she realized. The other Mr. Monarch. Worse, much worse.

Adam took in the scene before him, realization crossing his features. His face went from passive to enraged. “Going somewhere, Madeline, dear? On some sort of a trip?”

Madeline wetted her lips. “This isn't what it looks like. It's—”

“Going on a trip,” Grace chirped up, happily playing with her baby doll. “Daddy can't come. He has to work.”

“You lying, conniving bitch.” Adam took a step toward her, his expression murderous. “So this is what you've been up to. This is why you've been such a perfect little wife. So agreeable, so helpful. You've been planning to steal my granddaughter.”

Madeline took a step back, heart thundering. “She's my daughter, Adam.
Mine.
”

“Pretty stones,” Grace said. “Daddy sent pretty stones for our trip.”

Adam looked at Grace, drawing his eyebrows together in question, then back at Madeline. “You're not taking her anywhere.”

“You can't stop me.” Madeline jerked her chin up and stiffened her shoulders. “I have to protect her. I've tried to tell you about Griffen, I've tried to make you—”

“Griffen's her brother!” Adam's face mottled with rage. “He's my grandson. A Monarch, for Christ's sake!”

“But he's unbalanced!” she cried. “He's dangerous! You have to see it! You have to believe—”

“Believe what?” he demanded. “The delusional ravings of a woman who believes she can see the future? Please.”

“I told you what I walked in on! I didn't imagine that. He was holding her down, he had his hand—”

“Shut up!” he shouted, nearly purple with rage. “You're the one who's unbalanced. You're the one who needs help.” He advanced on her, flexing his fingers. “Let's get this straight. I don't give a fuck if you leave, you crazy bitch, but you're not taking my granddaughter.”

“I have to protect her. You can't stop me.”

“I can. And I will. She belongs here, she belongs to Monarch's.”

“She's not property!” Madeline cried, putting herself between Adam and Grace. “She doesn't
belong
to the family business. For God's sake, she's a person!”

He shook his head, calm suddenly, his eyes burning with a fanatical light. “She has the gift, Madeline. You know I can't let her go. You know I won't.”

Madeline took a step backward, frightened. “Adam,” she said, trying to reason with him, “be realistic. How do you know she has the gift? She's just five years old. How can you be so certain—”

Because he was crazy, she realized. Obsessed with Monarch's. Obsessed with the notion that a “gift” was passed from one generation of Monarch daughters to the next. Twisted by the belief that without Grace, without the one with the gift, Monarch's would crumble.

Dear God, he was as disturbed as Griffen.

She pushed past him, intent on grabbing Grace and running; he caught her arm and spun her back toward him, his expression contorted with rage and hatred. “You're not going anywhere, Madeline.”

She yanked free of his grasp. “The hell we're not. You'll hear from my lawye—”

Adam struck her. His fist connected with her cheek; stars exploded in her head. With a cry of pain, she stumbled backward. She hit the edge of the dresser, and the Mother Goose lamp crashed to the floor.

“Mommy!”

Adam snatched Grace up and started for the nursery door. She began to howl and kick. “Mommy! I want my mommy!”

Madeline dragged herself to her feet, though her head felt as if it might explode with the movement. “You're not taking my daughter from me!” She launched herself at Adam's back, clawing at him, digging her fingernails into the side of his neck.

With a grunt of pain, he loosened his grip on Grace. She dropped to the floor. Adam swung around and struck her again. Madeline flew backward, hitting the side of the bed, falling across it. Even as she struggled to sit up, she saw him advancing on her.

He meant to kill her.

With a cry, she struggled to her feet. He knocked her back again; then fell on top of her, closing his hands around her neck. “You demented bitch. Did you really think you could get away with this? Did you really think you could take our girl away from us?”

Madeline clawed at his hands, trying to free herself. She twisted and turned and kicked; he was too strong. She heard Grace's hysterical sobbing and her father-in-law's grunts of exertion. She heard her own silent pleas for help.

Her lungs burned; the edges of her vision dimmed. Above her the beatific face of the stained-glass angel gazed down at her. The angel that guarded the children. The angel that had been unable to guard her child.