Page 14 of The Inheritance At Bourton

He gestured toward the small table near the window. She followed him but didn't sit. Neither did he.

"Madeline's not going to court," he said quietly.

Leah blinked. "What?"

"She's not filing a challenge. She never intended to."

The words hung between them while Leah tried to process what she'd just heard. "Then what was the point of all this? The solicitor's letter? The questions about legitimacy?"

"She wants you to sell." Gerald looked uncomfortable. "And leave. Voluntarily. She thought if she made it difficult enough—if she raised enough questions and made you spend enough money defending yourself—you'd decide it wasn't worth it."

Leah felt heat rise in her chest. "She's bluffing."

"She's testing your resolve." He looked over at the counter where the baker was wrapping her order. "She knows going to court would cost her a lot, too, and everyone would hear about it. She doesn't want that. She's hoping you won’t want to fight."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Because I'm tired," he said finally. "I'm tired of watching her chase ghosts. Your mother's been gone forty years. Your father's been gone months. None of it matters anymore except to her."

"It matters to me."

"I know." He met her eyes. "That's why I'm telling you. Don't sell. Don't leave. Call her bluff, and she'll fold."

“This is what she did to my mother,” Leah said. “Bullied her into leaving.”

“Yes.”

“Why are people afraid of her?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know. Madeline isn’t all bad.”

“You’re married to her, you have to say that.”

He offered a wan smile. “Madeline’s life hasn’t been all roses. She did love your father. I’ll never be him, and she never lets me forget it.”

“But they were never together,” Leah said.

“No, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t love him. Maybe she would have married him and decided he wasn’t good enough, but she wanted what she couldn’t have. She blamed your mother for taking him away. And the rest of us have all paid for it.”

“You’re not innocent in this, Gerald.”

“No, I suppose I’m not.”

“Leah, dear, your order is ready.”

“Be right there,” Leah said.

She didn't move.

"I don't trust you," she said.

"I don't blame you." Gerald stepped back. "But I'm telling you the truth."

He left before she could respond. She gathered her bread and walked out into the cold morning, her mind spinning.

On the walk back, she spotted Edith coming out of the post office. The older woman saw her and waved.

"Leah! Just the person I wanted to see."