by Amanda Quick
The silver-haired man reached the edge of the dance floor and looked around expectantly, searching for someone. The last waltzing couple stopped midturn. The musicians fell silent. A hush gripped the crowd.
Leona seized fistfuls of her skirts in both hands and flew toward the newcomer, weaving a path through the maze of dancers.
“Uncle Edward,” she shouted. “You’re alive.”
54
IT WAS NEARLY DAWN. Through the glass walls of the conservatory Leona could see the first faint blush of morning light. She was still in her spectacular ball gown, its satins and silks turned to warm amber gold in the gaslight.
Thaddeus had removed his black evening coat, unknotted his tie and opened the collar of his pleated shirt. Lounging against the edge of a workbench, he picked up the brandy bottle he had brought from the library, filled two glasses and handed one to Leona.
“To good old Uncle Edward,” he said. He raised the glass in a small toast. “And to his amazing powers of positive thinking.”
“I knew he would come back someday.” Leona sipped her brandy, savoring all the joys, large and small, that the night had brought. “But to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t entirely certain that he would ever be able to repay the investors.”
Thaddeus laughed. “Thought the crowd was going to turn into a mob when they realized who had walked into their midst. I swear, if Gabe hadn’t taken command of the situation, the first Spring Ball of the Arcane Society would have turned into a full-blown riot. But tomorrow I suspect that everyone who was in that room tonight will be standing in line begging to invest in your uncle’s next investment scheme.”
Once the excitement had died down and the news that the mining investment had finally, if somewhat belatedly, paid off, it seemed everyone had wanted to talk to Edward. He had spent the evening regaling the attentive crowd around him with stories of the profits to be made in American investments.
Leona gave a tiny shudder. “Between you and me, I can’t help thinking that it was luck, not positive thinking, that saved Uncle Edward this time. It sounds as if everything that could go wrong in America did, indeed, go wrong. It was a disaster.”
Being the positive thinker that he was, Edward had not dwelt on the unpleasant details, but it was clear that the past two years had been fraught with hardship and peril. There was a brief mention of a deceptive banker and an extraordinarily beautiful and charming woman who had turned out to be somewhat less than trustworthy. Finding himself accused of fraud and embezzlement in San Francisco, Edward had been forced to fake his own death, change his name and lie low for some time while he crafted another investment scheme. The second project had proved spectacularly successful, making more than enough money to pay off the original investors.
“All’s well that ends well, as we who think positive like to say.” Thaddeus set aside his glass and drew her into his arms. “Really, my love, you must learn to take a more optimistic view of life. Where’s the good in dwelling on the negative?”
She laughed and went into his arms. “You’re right. I don’t know what came over me.”
She raised her face for his kiss.
Love flared, an invisible aura that she knew would warm their hearts for the rest of their lives.
