by Jenna Brandt
Tears began to form in the corners of Margaret’s eyes. She hated that she had hurt Michel, and now because she had made the mistake of not confiding in him, he no longer trusted her.
“I am so sorry. It is not only because I was afraid. I was also worried that you would see me differently after you knew. The way you looked at me, you saw me in such a pure manner. I feared you would believe the lies, and see me as tainted.”
Another noble couple passed by them on the garden path and nodded in their direction. Margaret and Michel nodded in return, and Michel waited until they were no longer within range of hearing before continuing. “Margaret, I am a forgiving man. I have a great capacity to overlook many faults.”
It sounded good on the surface, but the truth was, Margaret did not want a man to accept her in spite of her past, but love her because she had survived it. She knew she was a stronger person because of it, and she wanted to be married to someone that loved that about her.
“That is just it, Michel. I do not feel I need forgiveness. I never did anything wrong. I was a casualty of what the duke did to us. He is a horrible, evil man, and I can hardly stand to talk about him, but I want you to know what happened. The duke tried to take advantage of me after tricking me into being alone with him. My husband stopped him before he could carry out his dastardly plan. To make matters worse, Catherine, my husband’s sister, believed the false rumors the duke’s servants spread. She threatened to take my son once he was born to raise him without me as the Rolantry heir.”
“Is that why you left England after your son was born, to escape before she carried out her plan?”
Margaret nodded. “Do you want to end our engagement?”
She did not know what she would do if he said yes, but she would find a way to survive.
“I have to confess, when I came to speak to you about this, I believed I was going to end our engagement. But after hearing what you went through and why, I believe you are innocent of any wrongdoing.”
He stopped and looked at her for several seconds. “I want to believe in you, Margaret. I have come to care a great deal for you.”
“And I, you, Michel. I am grateful that you were willing to listen to me, and I promise not to keep anything from you in the future.”
“I appreciate that. Honesty is paramount to a lasting marriage.”
“In that case, I do need to tell you something else.”
“What is it?”
“The duke has been dispatching mercenaries to track me down. I am not sure what he wants, but the night I found my brother, the mercenaries took me hostage and planned to give me over to Witherton. Randall was able to free me before that happened and the men were… taken care of permanently.”
“Do you need me to intervene?”
“No, I had an investigator handle the situation.”
“What is his name?”
“Josef Mulchere.”
“I have heard of him. He is an excellent investigator. Do you need me to engage my contacts in this matter?”
“He told me he has it under control, and I believe him.”
“I promise you, Margaret, if anyone comes after you, I will end them.”
She believed Michel, and for the first time in a long time, she felt that she might truly be safe.
Chapter 22
Standing beside the Marquis de Badour, Margaret placed her hand in the bend of his arm, as she quietly waited for the announcement of their arrival at their engagement ball.
Something had shifted between them the day she told him about her past. She was fairly certain that it was due to the dissolution of her hope that he would ever love her. He promised to protect her, but he made no mention of love. She felt broken and trapped. She could not end the engagement because she needed the protection and safety his title and wealth provided. Not to mention that, if she did end their relationship, her reputation would be tarnished forever, and she would never be able to obtain a suitable match with or without love in the equation.
No, there was no way around it. She would have to make peace with the fact that she was going to live the rest of her life without being in love again. The marquis was a good man, kind and fair. And she had the consolation that she was loved at least once in her life by her first husband.
The doors to the marquis’s ballroom opened as his butler declared, “With great honor, presenting Lady Margaret Wellesley, sister to the Earl of Renwick, escorted by her fiancé, Lord Michel Robineau, the Marquis de Badour.”
As they walked through the doors, they were surrounded by lights, smiles, and applause. Encircled by all their friends and family, Margaret had never felt so alone. She could not help but wonder if this was how she was going to feel for the rest of her life: standing in the middle of a filled room but feeling completely by herself.
Margaret followed Michel onto the dance floor to start the night off with the first dance. Everything felt like a duty, a chore. Nothing held pleasure for her anymore. She pasted on a smile and said all the right things, but deep inside she felt empty.
What would her father think of her right now? He had raised her better than this. The one thing he wanted most for her in life was to feel true love. Then, almost as a wave, the most important words she ever heard came flooding back into her mind. “I want you to recognize that love is not self-serving or conceited. It does not remember our iniquities or think evil thoughts of others. Love is gracious and honest. It can withstand anything and always bears hope.”
Why had she not thought of that before? Her father had shared his thoughts about what the Bible viewed love as, and there was no mention of physical attraction or pretty words in the attributes of true love. The marquis did all of the actions of love. If she really considered how Michel treated her, it was obvious that he did love her, even if he did not realize it himself. She could build on that, especially with God’s help.
Lord, help me to love my future husband and to accept him as he is, rather than constantly wanting something more. You have shown me he acts out love, which is so much more important than saying it. Help me to be content in that knowledge.
“Margaret, are you paying attention to the steps? I know this dance is new to you, but you usually pick them up so fast.”
She looked at Michel for the first time in several minutes. “I was thinking how grateful I am to have you in my life.”
He smiled down at her. “As I am to have you in mine.”
Margaret observed Mulchere standing behind a group of gossipers. Recognizing the urgent look in his eyes, unnoticeable to Michel, she nodded to let Mulchere know she would be there in a moment.
As soon as the song finished, Margaret said, “Michel, in light of our conversation the other day at the park, I need you to escort me outside to the garden right now.”
Michel looked at her quizzically but did not argue. He placed his hand under her elbow and guided her out into an excluded area of the garden.
“What is going on, Margaret?”
“Monsieur Mulchere is here, which means something is amiss.”
Mulchere appeared from around the corner and approached the couple. He looked at Michel cautiously and waited for his cues from Margaret. “This is my fiancé, the Marquis de Badour. You may speak freely in front of him.”
“Yes, certainly, my lady. I thought that our plan had worked. The men who had been searching for you have been gone for the past several weeks. But this morning, I was working on another case when I overheard another man asking about you. He was carrying a newspaper, one that had your picture on it from the night of your brother’s party.”
This was getting worse. How stupid could she have been to have two major parties with all of French society present when she was being hunted down? She did not want to even think about Witherton finding her, or possibly Catherine. If either one of them found her, they would not hesitate to ruin her life here in France and Catherine would try to take Henry from her.
“Has anyone told them where I
am?”
“I believe it is unwise for you to stay here in France. I think it would be best to leave the country for a while.”
Her instincts told her to flee, but her mind knew better. She needed to stay here in order to marry Michel. His name would be the only thing that could protect her against her enemies. If she did not marry him, they would have nothing.
“I cannot leave. I am to be married in two months’ time.”
“But, my lady, if you do not, then they will find you.”
Michel stepped forward. “Monsieur Mulchere, I am aware of the situation, and I also have agents who can work in conjunction with your own to make sure no one finds Lady Margaret.”
Margaret knew they needed to change their plans going forward. “We can move the wedding date closer, then take Henry and go on an extended trip to celebrate our marriage.” She looked at Michel to see if he agreed with her plans. He nodded in agreement.
“From here on out, I would like you to keep me informed of the situation.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
“Thank you for informing me, Monsieur Mulchere. I appreciate all that you have done for me.”
“Very well, my lady. I will be on my way.” He started to leave but turned back around. “Do be careful, Lady Margaret, I fear that danger is just around the corner.”
Chapter 23
Although she was grateful Michel agreed to move up their wedding, she had drained herself getting everything ready in a week’s time.
Over the past two weeks, Margaret had lost two of her servants to other arrangements. Francisca had been courted by a local boy, and asked to leave Margaret’s service in order to get married. Motty was offered a job by another family to become a governess, a prestigious position that she well deserved. Though she would miss them both greatly, she knew it was in their best interest to accept both offers.
“I am exhausted, Rand. I am so grateful that all of the big events are almost over. You are now a part of the nobility here in France, my engagement ball was a smash, and I will be married by the end of the week.”
Margaret was doing all of the planning for the wedding, and surprising even herself, managing to accomplish everything in quick order.
“Maggie, I am happy for you. But I hope you have the strength for one more event perhaps? I was thinking I might be married soon as well.”
She jumped at his intriguing statement. “Are you going to ask Jackie to marry you?”
Randall sat down on the divan by the window in the parlor, pulling Margaret beside him. He looked at her and beamed. “I think I am in love, Mags. I mean really in love. I have never felt this way about a woman.” He grabbed Margaret’s hands in excitement, continuing, “Yes, I am going to propose to her. Tomorrow night, as a matter of fact.”
Margaret pressed her lips together, trying to hold back her emotions. She wanted to be happy for them, but part of her envied what they had so much. She knew she would never be able to find that again.
“Congratulations, Rand, I am truly happy for you.” She forced a smile and patted his hands that now lay in her lap.
“Maggie, what is the matter? I can see that something is bothering you.”
“Nothing,” she said defensively. “At least nothing that I am going to discuss with you.”
He pulled his hands away, crossed his arms over his chest, and frowned in mock hurt.
“I am offended, dear sister, that you do not think that you can confide in me.”
“It is nothing. I am just having a hard time, and I am dealing with a lot of things right now.”
“Like what?”
She stood up from the desk and moved over to the window, looking out. She had been avoiding telling him about the whole Witherton, Henry, and Catherine situation. She hated talking about it, and she just wished the whole situation would go away. Besides, there was a good chance that Michel could take care of everything and she would not need to tell Randall the details of her past.
“Now I know something is wrong. You forget, we are twins and I do many of the same things. I always look out a window when something is bothering me. It is like looking for the answer out there when you cannot find one in here,” he said as he patted his chest. “What is it? Tell me.”
She turned around and said again, “Nothing, I am just nervous about the wedding, that is all.”
“Maggie, I know you, and I can see something else is wrong.”
Avoiding the subject, Margaret smiled and said, “Nothing is the matter. I want to discuss the details of this proposal. How are you going to do it?”
“Nice try, Mags, but you are not getting any information out of me. I want to surprise Jackie, and I know if I tell you, it is going to go directly back to her.”
“Fine, I suppose I will hear all about it soon enough. I do have to ask, where did you acquire the money for a ring?”
“I won a tiny bit the night you found me. I used it to get this.” He pulled a box out of his pocket, which contained a simple gold band.
Margaret knew Jackie would be content with whatever Randall gave her, but she also knew a countess would be expected to have a much more extravagant ring.
“Give me a moment, Rand. I will be right back.” Margaret made her way to her chambers and went inside to her vanity. She unlocked a bottom drawer where she kept her jewelry and pulled out a ring box, then headed back to the study and sat down next to Randall.
“I have something for you.” Margaret placed the ring box in Randall’s hand.
He crumpled his brows together in puzzlement as he looked down at the box. “What is this?”
“Open it.”
Randall followed Margaret’s instructions and opened the delicate velvet box. Inside was a magnificent topaz and diamond ring. “Where did you get this?” Randall asked.
“It was our grandmother’s ring. Father gave it to me when I turned thirteen. I want you to have it and propose to Jackie with it. You both deserve it.”
“It’s superb, Margaret, but I cannot take it.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because Father gave it to you.”
“He gave everything to me because you were not around to give anything to at the time. You would have been given some of the family heirlooms to pass down to your family. He would want you to have this, as do I.”
“Thank you, Maggie. Jacquelyn will love this ring.”
“I know. I am glad you can give it to her.”
“Indeed. Can you believe that soon, we will both be happily married?”
Margaret knew it would be true for him, but she worried she would never feel happiness again.
Margaret was reading in the library when Jackie and Randall surged into the room. “We did it.”
Startled, Margaret glanced up to find the couple grinning and radiating delight. “Let me see it, let me see the ring.”
Jackie rushed over to Margaret and pushed her hand out to her friend. Margaret took it in her own and inspected the topaz ring. It looked perfect on her hand.
Not wanting to spoil it by explaining she had already seen it, she kept the information to herself. “You did brilliant, Randall. It is a magnificent engagement ring.”
“He did, did he not? You must know it was a family ring, your grandmother’s ring, to be exact. But it is not an engagement ring, Maggie.”
“What do you mean ‘it is not an engagement ring’? I am looking right at it.”
“This is my wedding ring. We could not wait and decided to elope.”
Elope? Did she hear Jackie, right? They were already married? Margaret dropped Jackie’s hand and asked, “You got married without me there?”
Randall sat down next to Margaret on the window seat. “Do not be upset. We still plan to have a reception with everyone we care about, especially you.”
Margaret was in disbelief. She wanted to be pleased for them, but she had barely processed her brother telling her he was in love with Jackie, and now she had to rapidly accept their
choice to secretly get married. She had assumed they would be getting married after her and Michel had their wedding, not before.
“Congratulations to both of you,” Margaret said in a flat tone.
“Do you think you can muster a little bit more enthusiasm, dear sister?”
“You two love each other and you got married. I am glad for you.”
“What is wrong?”
“Nothing. I am just adjusting. It is a lot to process.”
“Maggie, you—” Before he could finish, a piercing scream of terror interrupted their conversation.
Margaret jumped from the shock of it as chills raced up and down her spine, then realized that it was her son’s panicked cries. “Oh my goodness, that was Henry!” She grabbed her skirts and ran towards his room, Randall following close behind. She flung open the door and rushed over to his crib.
She grabbed him up, asking, “What? What is it, my darling?”
Still crying and shaking with fear, Margaret looked at her son and realized he must have had a bad dream and thought someone had come in through the window.
Several of the servants rushed in, still pulling on robes and slippers.
“My lady, is the boy all right?” Albert asked, holding a lantern in one shaking hand and a pistol that looked almost as old as him in the other.
“Yes, I think he had a bad dream. You may all go back to sleep. I will stay with him.”
They looked to Randall for his approval. They were already viewing him as the head of the home as the Earl of Renwick, Margaret realized. At first it had upset her, since she had always been the one in charge, but it was his rightful place to be their master. Knowing that, she amended her attitude to them looking to him as the authority around their home and became accustomed to it, since it should have been his role all along.