Scoundrel With A Noble Heart (sequel of Disgraceful)

Chapter 94

The next day, late in the afternoon, Jacob led Marguerite on a winding tour of the estate. As they strolled the stone path in the garden, Marguerite tilted her head up, admiring the towering trees above them. Sunlight dappled through the leaves, casting shifting patterns on the ground.

"Jake, I've heard rumors about your far-flung voyage across Europe and the Middle East, is that true?" Marguerite broke the silence. Her question sounded innocent, but a flicker of something in her eyes betrayed a deeper curiosity.

"Indeed," he replied, "There was even a year where I barely touched home soil."

"The allure of the unknown, experiencing new cultures and faces, it must be intoxicating," Her voice trailed off, her gaze flickering to his face, searching for a deeper emotion beneath the surface.
"But have you ever missed home amidst your adventures?"

A flicker of sadness, as fleeting as a shooting star, crossed his features before a wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Perhaps the thrill of discovery blinded me to the yearning for home."

Marguerite's lips remained sealed, but the answer, silent but clear, formed in her thoughts.
Or maybe, home was never a source of comfort to him. Perhaps it was a yearning he chased across the horizon, a constant pursuit with ever-shifting destinations.

Yet, a flicker of pride, a quiet contentment, replaced the initial melancholy as he continued,
"But there's one corner of the world that has always held a special place. A constant amidst the ever-changing scenery." Jacob's gaze drifted across the familiar grounds, a newfound appreciation warming his features. The setting sun bathed his face in an ethereal glow, mirroring the warmth that seeped into his eyes.
"This house, my childhood residence. This place holds so many memories, some joyful, some…not so much."
He paused and turned his gaze towards her, "But, why suddenly the barrage of questions about home? Missed home already?"

Marguerite battled a blush that threatened to rise on her cheeks. There was no simple answer to that question. True, a home didn't always guarantee affection, and loneliness could creep in even among loved ones. There were times, especially under the soft glow of the evening like this, that she yearned for something more, a connection that transcended the walls that surrounded her. But having grown up with the constant upheaval of a nomadic childhood, the permanence of her house, the constant walls, was a blessing she couldn't take for granted.
"You know, there's a saying, you can wander the world, but there's no place quite like home."

A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Home isn't a place, it's the feeling of belonging, the people who make you feel safe and understood. Where you feel loved and accepted, where you never feel alone. That's what makes a home, I guess."

The weight of Jacob's words settled on her like a heavy cloak. A truth she'd desperately tried to ignore echoed in the quiet space between them.

"Isn't that... a bit romantic?" she finally managed, her voice a touch strained. Her gaze darted away, unable to meet his warm green eyes.

"Perhaps," he conceded. His voice softened, taking on a conspiratorial quality. "But isn't there a truth to it? A place is just bricks and mortar without the people who breathe life into it."

Marguerite felt a pang of longing deep within.
The ache for true connection, for someone who truly saw her, was a constant undercurrent in her life. The absence of her mother had left a void that nobody else could fill. Not by Goddard, a responsible yet distant figure. Then came Matthew, once her only confidante and best friend, but now an invisible chasm had grown between them.

"Maybe," she conceded again, her voice barely a whisper above the rustling leaves.
"One can yearn for a home that no longer exists, a port in a storm that has vanished."