Her face turned white. She looked almost like she was going to be sick. "I saw him beat a stable boy once for stealing from the kitchen," she said quietly. "It was just an apple, and I hadn't eaten mine that day. It cost us nothing, but he was so irate at being stolen from."
Tears ran down her face. “I'm his property just as much as that apple. I don’t want to be Margaret anymore. I’d hoped that by remaining Minnie, I could have a new life."
Then she took her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, becoming once more the lady of the manor. "I shall make it clear to my father that no one in this town did anything wrong. That's why you've been showing me around, isn't it? You want to keep me happy. Yes, you wanted me to speak well of Noelle to my father, but more than that, you wanted it known that I was in no way mistreated. You can rest assured, my father will hear no complaints from me."
She returned to eating her breakfast, only now it looked more like a chore and that the joy it had just given her was gone. She ate slowly, methodically, and properly.
It had only taken a few words to kill the spirit he'd seen bubbling inside her. For a moment, he almost felt guilty for being the cause. But Margaret had to accept reality. She was right. She was as much her father's property as the apple the stable boy had stolen.
Margaret had told him that she was willing to learn, and here she was, learning. Though he suspected that many of the other brides also lacked skills in the kitchen, she was the only one he'd seen approach the cook and ask for lessons. Or maybe she was the only one Milly had given lessons to. He honestly didn't know, but seeing Margaret make the effort did something funny in his heart. He already was questioning sending her home, and now, those questions weighed even more loudly in his head. Even though she didn't know all the things she needed to for life in Noelle, he saw in her a willing partner. Which to him was worth more than all the skill in the world. But how is he supposed to reconcile the fact that her father wanted her back? More importantly, she had a fiancé waiting for her. A man she'd promised to marry.
He looked up at her. "Tell me about your fiancé. If you don't want to go back to him, why did you agree to marry him?"
Margaret set her fork down and folded her hands in her lap. "You ask as though I had a choice. I can assure you I did not. As with everything in my life, I was told whom I would marry. I was never given the opportunity to court like a normal person. I've only been allowed to associate with the people my parents think are appropriate. The only person I could ever truly count on as a friend was Minnie. I suppose it's odd to be close to one's maid, and in front of my family, I had to hide my true affection for her. But she was always the only person with whom I could be myself. The so-called friends my parents put in my life were people who only thought to gain an advantage by our acquaintance. Were I to share any secrets with them, they were likely to use them against me."
Hadn't that been his life? People bowing to him and flattering him in hopes he would put in a good word for them with the duke. He might have been the third son, but with such a powerful father, everyone wanted an association with Hugh. Even Arabella, whom he thought truly loved him for himself, had only been after his connections. She wasn't here out of love for him, but out of a desire to use him once more.
"I'm sorry," Hugh said. "I understand better than you think. In England, all anyone cared about was my title, most particularly access to my father's. I want to help you, but surely you know what angering a man like your father could mean for me, but most particularly, for this town."
A sad look crossed Margaret's face, and for a moment, he thought she might cry. "All he wants is for me to have an advantageous marriage. I don't think he cares who it is. Anything to elevate himself."
She looked at him with hope and longing, and he knew that she was hoping that his rank could be used to help her.
"I have no title, only the courtesy title of the son of the duke. In England, I am called Lord Hugh, but that means nothing.”
Margaret nodded slowly. "I'm afraid I don't know much about any of that. When my parents met Lord Milliken, that's all they looked at. I'm sure my father's men investigated whatever they investigate about a person, but sometimes I wonder if they looked beyond his title. I've been told that my intended is not a very good person."
Hugh already knew Margaret’s fiancé was a profligate son who had spent the family fortune on gambling and women and now needed a wealthy bride to fill the family coffers. He had no respect for such men, preying on women to cover their own faults. If a man were to lose the family fortune, he should find an honorable way of restoring it. True, people back home didn't see marrying for wealth as being dishonorable, but that was one more area in which he disagreed with the other members of his class.
But none of this would help her. His only hope was that he could discover something truly foul about her fiancé that would make her father cry off. He looked at Margaret. "I don't wish to give you false hope, but I have sent out some inquiries about your intended. Perhaps I will uncover something your father hasn't, and he will call off the wedding. Otherwise, there’s nothing I can do.”
Milly stomped over with a pot of coffee. "Coffee?"
He nodded. "Thank you."
She started pouring it into his cup, but quickly turned and dumped it on him. Hugh jumped, giving a shout. "What did you do that for?"
"How could you dash her dreams like that? All she wants is the same as any of us. And what makes us so much better than her that she can't have it? You terrible, selfish man. I thought you were one of the good ones, but you're not. You're sending her away without a fight. Have you even asked her father if she might stay?"
Then she turned to Margaret. "I know telegrams are expensive, but you should send a message to your father and ask him if there's any way you might stay."
Margaret nodded. Then she picked up her now-empty plate along with Hugh’s soggy breakfast and stood. "I believe I will, thank you. I don't have much money, but it should be enough. It’s too bad those chickens or that goose aren’t here so I can feed them these scraps."
As she turned toward the door, Mrs. Walters touched her arm. “If you don’t have enough money, I can give you some. I’ll also do what I can to help you find a way to stay.”
“Thank you,” Margaret murmured, sounding so grateful that Hugh felt even more like a heel.
“No one should be forced into a marriage with a monster,” Mrs. Walters said, glaring at him.
Margaret went to the back door, leaving Hugh to face the wrath of the women in the kitchen. He’d underestimated just how much they’d come to care for her. But how could he not, when he felt the same way?
"Now get out of my kitchen," Milly said. "The likes of you aren't welcome here."
He looked back at her. "But in the past, you said-"
"That was then, this is now. I liked you because you always seemed to take a person at face value, and you treated everyone as an equal. But that dear girl is terrified of going home, and I cannot understand why you would make her the sacrificial lamb."
What other choice did they have? He couldn't see Arthur Coveney being convinced to let his daughter stay in this town without good reason. But what reason could they give? There was nothing to interest the man. If the railroad didn't come here, it would go to another town. Though he and the others thought Noelle was special, he wasn't sure how to convince a man only interested in the bottom line of that same worth.
Draven entered the room. "We need to talk," he said, looking at Hugh. "Alone."
He followed Draven outside. The concerned expression on his friend’s face worried him. "What's going on?"
"Coveney’s men arrived, and I don't like the looks of them."
"How bad are they?"
"Not the sort I'd feel safe sending my enemy's daughter with, let alone Coveney’s. I don't know what the man was thinking, using them, but they don't look right."
Hugh didn't like the sound of it either. "Where are they now?"
"I t
old them Miss Coveney was being entertained by some of the town's finest, and I would fetch her. I took them across the street to the saloon, and made sure they were given strong drinks. They were quickly joined by the ladies, who are frustrated at not being able to work the way they usually do. Coveney’s men seemed more than happy to be entertained by them."
"We can't keep them there forever," Hugh said. "But the more I talked to Margaret, the more I know it would be wrong to send her home."
Draven nodded. "Can we afford the trouble if we don't send her back?"
For a few moments, neither man said anything. There was nothing to say. Not with so much at risk.
"We still need another bride," Draven said. "We’re already a bride short, and Chase is nervous that there aren't enough women to go around. Have you taken another look at Madame’s girls to see if we could make that work?"
"We'll figure something out," Hugh said. "There's still time. I know Chase is nervous, but we can make it work. We'll find a way."
Draven looked at him a little too knowingly. "You still want her for yourself."
He didn't want to admit it, not to Draven, not even to himself. Not when it looked so hopeless.
"We can't let them take her," Hugh said.
"I'll send a message to Coveney, making sure the men are on the up and up. A wealthy heiress like that, it wouldn't be unheard of for outlaws to have seen the signs about her and come to take the prize for themselves.”
"At least if we buy some time, we can figure out a new solution for Minnie," Hugh said.
Draven stared at him for a moment. "It might be easier for you if you call her Margaret instead of Minnie. The more you distance yourself from her, the easier it will be to let her go."
The name had slipped out. He’d been trying to do so for the same reason Draven had just stated. But the more Hugh thought about her, the more it seemed wrong not to call her Minnie.
"She wants nothing to do with Margaret. She wants to be Minnie. She likes the freedom of having a new name. And I don't blame her. One of the happiest days of my life was when I dropped the ‘lord’ and became just Hugh."
Draven shook his head. "Coveney could charge us with kidnapping. Could charge you with kidnapping."
He wouldn't do anyone any good from jail, and even though he knew his friend was sympathetic, there wasn't anything he could do.
"Let's keep the men busy and get confirmation from Coveney that these are his men. It wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on them, either. If they’re as rough as you say, perhaps we can find a reason to put them in jail."
Draven grinned. "Maybe you're not willing to admit it yet, but we’ll be attending your wedding before long. I just hope you're smart about it. You could ruin us all."
Did he love Minnie? Hugh couldn't say for sure. But he knew that no woman deserved that kind of life. No man, either, for that matter.
"Do what you can to keep the men busy, and I'll keep Minnie out of sight. No sense in forcing something before it's time."
Draven nodded then turned to walk away. Hugh went back inside, where Margaret was waiting expectantly. "The men are here, aren't they?"
Hugh nodded. "But we're not sure they’re the right ones. What sort of men work for your father?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. He doesn't bring his business home much. There are his guards, of course, and they often follow us. But we aren't allowed to speak."
Instead of being comforted by her words, he was concerned. Coveney wasn't going to let his daughter go easily.
"We're doing our best to keep you safe," he told her. "But I'll need your help. I need you to stay out of sight and out of the way. If the men see you, they might snatch you, and we cannot protect you."
She nodded. "So, you are trying to help me."
"As much as I can. But if your father confirms that these are his men, there's nothing I can do."
She looked pained by his answer. He hated that he couldn't give her a better one.
"I understand," she said. "Perhaps I can go visit Birdie. We enjoy each other's company, and it will keep me from worrying."
At least she had friends who could temporarily hide her. It wouldn’t be much protection, but at least they could keep moving her around to protect her for a while.
"You'll have to stay in the background. You can't be seen in public. Right now, the men are busy in the saloon. But who knows how long that will last, and when they’ll decide to go looking for you."
She nodded thoughtfully. "I can't stay here," she said. “They also know that this is where I'm staying. And I'm sure Arabella would be all too happy to tell them exactly where I sleep at night."
He hadn't thought about that. Unfortunately, she was right. Arabella would do anything to get rid of competition.
Milly looked at them sympathetically. "It's not much, but Minnie could stay in my room. At least if the men come for her, and Arabella tries to give her away, they won't be able to find her. Unless they search the house, but I have a few hiding spots. Madame has had me hide many a husband from a jealous wife."
"Thank you,” Minnie said. “Let me get my things and we can be off.”
As she left the room, Hugh tried not to think about all the things that could go wrong. But as long as Minnie stayed hidden, he could look into Coveney’s supposed men. If they weren’t on the up and up, perhaps it would be just what they needed to convince Coveney to let his daughter stay.
Chapter 6
The Fifth Day of Christmas
December 29, 1876
Her father’s men had continued to be occupied at the saloon, giving Minnie more time to convince Hugh to let her stay. To further thwart the men until they received confirmation that they did belong to her father, Hugh had suggested they go on a sleigh ride.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked, tucking a blanket closer around her.
“Yes, thank you.”
His attention to her comfort made her smile. The longer she stayed in Noelle, the more she felt like Minnie. And, given that everyone seemed to respect her wishes to be called Minnie, it made it easier to become the new persona. As she sat, huddled next to him, surrounded by plenty of warm blankets, she could almost pretend that this was a pleasant outing. This must be what courting was like, except, of course, they weren't. Still, as she sat so close to Hugh, she liked the feeling of having him near. He smelled good, of soap and warmth, and something else she couldn't quite place, except that she found it intriguing.
Lord Milliken always smelled too much of alcohol and cheap perfume. When she commented it on it to her mother, her mother told her that a lady ignores such things. But how terrible to spend one's life pretending one couldn't smell her husband's foul stench. She would much rather spend her life breathing in the warm scent of Hugh.
He looked down at her and smiled. "Are you warm enough?"
"Perfectly," she said, smiling back at him. “It's nice, being here with you. I find this ever so much more pleasant than riding in my father's carriage. There are bricks for warmth, but I find having you close to me keeps me warmer."
He stiffened. "You know this isn't appropriate, right? Your fiancé and your father might consider this taking too many liberties."
She let out a long sigh. "Technically, I'm ruined already, having run off the way I did. True, the beginning of my journey was with women, but I've been alone with you many times unchaperoned. Even if we weren't sitting so close, Society would view our time together as inappropriate. So why not enjoy ourselves?"
"Don't go falling in love with me. No good will come of it. Guard your heart, because otherwise the rest of your life will be miserable, married to another."
His words made her feel like a child. Like her mother was speaking to her. She'd cautioned Margaret against falling in love, telling her that love only made fools of people. But sitting here, next to Hugh, in a mostly companionable way, she couldn't imagine a life without it.
"You still think I'm going to marry him, don't you?"
&nbs
p; "You have no choice. If an agreement has been made, whether or not you are party to it is immaterial under the law. You know that."
"And what if he cries off? Perhaps he will see my time here as a blemish on my character."
He shook his head. "If his sole inducement in marrying you is your money, it will matter not."
Once again, his words gave her little encouragement. Of course, Milliken’s only reason for marrying her was money. They'd hardly spent any time in one another's company.
She turned and looked at him. "Tell me this. If you had a sister and she was marrying a horrible man, what would you do to stop it?"
"My family is wealthy enough and important enough that if I had a sister, she would not need to make such a marriage. I am sure we would make sure he was an honorable man."
Why did he have to be so difficult?
"And if you discover that the man you thought was an honorable man was, in fact, dishonorable?"
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You think that your intended's objectionable qualities are not known to your father?"
She would like to think that. But surely, he must know about some of the man's misbehaviors.
Though Minnie knew in her heart that her father probably didn’t care about Milliken’s misdeeds, it felt good to know Hugh at least was willing to hear her out. Once again, she regretted not marrying him when she’d first arrived. So many of their problems would have been solved if only she wasn't so terrified of what the wedding night entailed. As she looked at Hugh again, she couldn't imagine him humiliating her. Even though she had been told that the experience was always uncomfortable and unpleasant for a woman, she would like to think that a man such as he would do his best to make it as comfortable and pleasant as he could.
“I like it here and I want to stay,” Minnie said, hoping to turn the conversation to more pleasant things. “This is exactly what I hoped for, what we’d hoped for, when we thought of sending Minnie here."
"You don't find it uncivilized?"
The Lord: The Tenth Day (The 12 Days of Christmas Mail-Order Brides Book 10) Page 7