“Thank you, Papa.” It was the first time in her life that her father extended genuine praise. Indeed, she suspected it was the first time he ever really looked at her.
After felicitous exchanges with Mr. and Mrs. Howe, Margaret gave her focus to her groom and his present, which she selected, in haste, and she wished she had given more effort to his gift. From the side table, she retrieved the parcel.
“For me?” Percy grinned. “Whatever it is, I adore it, already, because it is from you.”
It took a few minutes before she realized she held her breath, as hers was a modest offering, yet it was nonetheless personal than his nutcracker. When he removed the brown paper, and pulled the frame free, she waited for his reaction.
“I do not believe it.” He cast a boyish expression, as he held up the hand-drawn charcoal portrait. “It is me. Did you do this? Is it your work?”
“Yes.” Together, they sat on the sofa. “I drew it from memory, given we had met at various social events. But, since we are much better acquainted, I should revisit it, to improve the likeness.”
“You will do no such thing, as I treasure it.” Again, he claimed her hand in his, pressed his lips to her bare knuckles, and whispered, “I had no idea my future wife was so multi-talented, and I sincerely anticipate discovering what other skills you possess.”
“Percy.” She could only imagine to what he referred, but her mind ran amok. Yet, in that moment, she ached to indulge in another tryst. “I want to kiss you.”
“Now, that is music to my ears.” He glanced left and then right, as her parents and the Howes enacted their own discussions. “What say we rendezvous in the alcove my cousin recommended, after everyone retires, and admire the night sky?”
“My saucy fiancé, I am at your service.” As a treat, she decided she would take down her hair for their assignation. “What time should—”
“What is this?” None too delicately, Papa wrenched the nutcracker from the mantel, yanked on the lever, and the wood splintered. “Oh, dear. It appears to have come loose.”
“Careful, Papa.” Margaret shot to her feet. “You broke it. You broke my gift from Percy.”
“I apologize, Margaret, but I meant no harm.” Papa passed the damaged nutcracker to her. “I was only curious, as I have never seen anything like it.”
“Do not worry, sweetheart.” Percy took the precious nutcracker from her grasp. “I can buy you another one.”
“No.” She shook her head, as the ruined trinket struck her as a bad omen, when everything was going so perfectly. “I want this one, because you gave it to me, in the music room.” In a low voice, she said, “It commemorates our first kiss, and I will not part with it.”
“Are you so sentimental?” When she nodded her head, he tapped the tip of her nose. “Then I shall have it repaired, and it will be as good as new.”
Margaret could only hope the same could be said of her luck.
once upon a christmas knight
chapter Four
Christmastide dawned on a crisp and clear morning, and the Howes gathered with the Hogarts to attend church services. To everyone’s delight, Barrington and Florence made an appearance, sans their children, given the bitter cold. Afterward, the family returned to Whitstone, for brunch, which Percy barely tasted, as he was anxious to discuss the contents of the letter he received, with Mr. Hogart. But that conversation yielded to Barrington’s desire to convene the men in the study, while the women repaired to the back parlor.
“You have done good work, cousin, as Miss Hogart is charming.” Barrington raised his glass of brandy. “I toast you and your lovely bride-to-be.”
“Hear, hear.” Ernest smirked. “I am pleased to admit my wife predicted Miss Hogart would make an excellent match, and he has done better than you know, brother.”
Percy cast a stare of caution, but Ernest simply waggled his brows.
“Indeed.” Mr. Hogart thrust his chin. “Let us drink to the marriage of two great families.”
“I second that.” Percy nodded, yet his frustration grew, as he needed to speak with Margaret about the events that preceded their engagement, because he would not have her learn the truth, on her own. “St. Valentine’s Day cannot come soon enough for me.”
“When did you know that she was the one for you?” Reclining on the daybed, Barrington stretched his booted feet. “Because I do not recall you ever mentioning her.”
“In all honesty, I chose her while you were on the run.” Percy hated to bring up the unpleasant affair, given his cousin fled arrest for a crime he did not commit, but he would not let anyone labor under the mistaken assumption that Margaret was anything less than his lady, and he had remained quiet for far too long. “We met, formally, at the Netherton’s masque, in eighteen-thirteen, and I have been determined to wed her, since then.”
“You never told me that.” Mr. Hogart inclined his head and smiled. “So you really wish to wed her? This is not merely a union in payment of your services?”
“Uh—sir, I was not going to discuss that in the company of my cousins.” Percy shifted his weight in the high back chair near the hearth. “Per our original agreement, I have shared naught of your situation.”
“What situation?” Barrington inquired.
“Indeed, I am curious.” Ernest leaned forward and rested elbows to knees. “What are you hiding?”
“He hides nothing, Lord Ernest.” Mr. Hogart wiped his brow and frowned. “Mr. Howe merely came to my rescue, after a nefarious blackguard swindled my fortune. As we are for all intents and purposes family, I would share the state of my finances, if only to prevent you from suffering the same fate. And who knows, had I been more forthcoming, I might have spared others from the same downfall.”
“Sir, you could not have known what would happen when you entrusted your estate into the care of Ratking, a cunning man with a silver tongue, who boasted of his prowess and his returns, which I found too outrageous to believe.” With care, Percy explained the details of Mr. Hogarts impending insolvency, which brought them together and set in motion Percy’s engagement to Margaret. “The missive I received, yesterday, contained the results of my solicitor’s preliminary investigation, and the news is dreadful, I am afraid.”
“How could it be anything but, given Mr. Hogart’s considerable losses?” Barrington rubbed the back of his neck and scowled. “Must confess Ratking approached me with a similar scheme, and I declined for two reasons. One, because his returns seemed too good to be true, and two, because Percy manages the bulk of my investments, to my benefit. When Hogart approached me for advice, I did not hesitate to recommend you, as your skills are renowned.”
“This is most disconcerting, as I, too, was propositioned, and I politely refused Ratking, owing to my cousin’s abilities, which he taught me, to the extent that I handle the whole of my finances.” Ernest shook his head. “But how did he get away with his machinations?”
“It seems no one in the ton wishes to admit they were duped, thus Ratking’s devious doings remained a well-kept secret.” From his coat pocket, Percy drew the letter. “We can trace the transactions that liquidated various assets, as even Ratking cannot conceal that, but there is no evidence he purchased interest in any venture, on behalf of his clients. Quite the opposite, I am afraid. But there is more, as we can discern no source of income to subsidize his lifestyle, which leads us to a single undeniable and ominous conclusion. As far as my man can surmise, Ratking, a reticent individual of humble beginnings, used the monies with which he was charged, to support his family.”
“You must be joking.” Mr. Hogart blinked. “How could he possibly believe he could get away with it?”
“Because we suspect he operated in a nefarious fashion for the last ten years or so, shuffling funds, as necessary, to stave off any queries.” Percy scrutinized the information detailed in the missive. “The problem we face is Ratking’s victims are reluctant to come forward with complaints, as they do not want others to know of their
ruin, and I believe there are many on the verge of bankruptcy. If we are to make a case, we need the sworn testimony of his targets.”
“I would be happy to provide any relevant details, regarding my conversation with him.” Barrington furrowed his brow. “The scoundrel must be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”
“And as much as I detest the taint of a scandal, I can no longer remain silent.” Mr. Hogart peered at Percy and grimaced. “I am honor-bound to submit my account to the authorities, regardless of the consequences to my family.”
“That is noble, sir.” Ernest narrowed his stare. “But we are no strangers to controversy, and I wager we can weather the storm.”
“Indeed, we are with you, come what may.” Barrington waved a clenched fist. “And I have friends in high places, as my brother learned, when he found himself embroiled in a muddle. I can help.”
“What do you propose?” Percy inquired.
“What do you require?” Barrington replied.
“If we are to bring Ratking to justice, we must devise a plan to uncover his subterfuge and establish what became of the fortunes that were not his to own.” Ernest scratched his temple and then snapped his fingers. “What if we enlist the aid of Sir Ross Logan?”
“But he works for the Counterintelligence Corps.” Mr. Hogart leaned against the armrest. “What can he do?”
“As the commander of our spy network, he can aid us in enacting a ruse to bring down Ratking.” Myriad thoughts filled Percy’s brain, and a plan took shape. As he pondered the various avenues for redress, he compiled a list. “Given Logan’s resources, he can deploy one of his agents to lure our villain into a trap. And, if we are successful, we might gather sufficient facts and evidence to spare you and your family any embarrassing involvement.”
“Do you really think it possible?” Hogart sat upright. “Although I am fully prepared to do my duty, I would not involve Beryl or my daughters, as they did nothing wrong, but you know society. They will not separate my poor decisions from my relations. Indeed, the ton will disparage my girls, and Beryl will not survive debtor’s prison. I fear I have sentenced my innocent wife to death.”
“No, you have not.” Ernest pointed for emphasis. “We can isolate them, but you bring up another quandary. What about your creditors?”
“I can satisfy them,” Percy responded, without hesitation. “I can loan Hogart a sum of money to keep his collectors at bay, long enough for me to launch a full-scale recovery of his finances.”
“I cannot allow you to do that.” Hogart shoved from his chair and paced before the windows. “It simply is not done.”
“Sir, would you stand on principle, when your very life hangs in the balance?” Determined to save his future bride, Percy seized upon the necessary holdings and plotted an aggressive course of investments, to turn a quick profit. Indeed, there was nothing he would not do for Margaret. “Forget polite decorum, and to the devil with etiquette. My position is such that I can afford to help you, and I could not live with myself if I did otherwise, so you will take what I offer and be glad of it.”
“Mr. Howe—Percy, if I may, I could not have chosen better for my daughter, and I can never repay you for your kindness.” At that moment, Mr. Hogart approached and extended an arm, and Percy stood. They shared a vigorous handshake, and Mr. Hogart wiped a stray tear. “And to you, it is John. I am most honored to welcome you into my family.”
“Trust me, sir, the honor is mine.” Invigorated with renewed zeal, Percy squared his shoulders. “And you mistake the situation, as I am in your debt, because you give me Margaret, and there is no sum on this earth that could equal her worth.”
~
The afternoon sun yielded to grey clouds, as Florence, Henrietta, and Margaret sat in the back parlor. From a delicate plate, she snatched a square of shortbread and reclined on the chaise, as she improved her acquaintance with her soon-to-be in-laws.
“I cannot tell you how thrilled I was to learn of your engagement to our beloved Percy, as I despaired he might never find a mate.” The epitome of grace and elegance, the marchioness smiled as she inclined her head. “So, how did you meet, as Percy shared naught of his interest, and I was stunned but gratified to hear the news, given he is a lifelong friend and long-suffering gooseberry.”
“That is right.” Margaret recalled a conversation she shared with her man. “I forgot the five of you grew up, together, in Derbyshire. Was there never any special lady in Percy’s life?”
“He was always a quiet, gentle soul.” Averting her gaze, Henrietta hugged her round belly and smiled. “Unlike Ernest and Barrington, Percy never exhibited much ambition, which made him an easy mark for his mother, and he was an obedient son. Indeed, he seemed content to blend into the background and to yield the limelight to his cousins.”
“We have that in common.” Margaret could just imagine him as a child, looming in the shadows of his estimable relations, so similar to her behavior, in respect to Miranda. “And although we shared an acquaintance, we only ever danced once, at the Netherton’s masque, years ago. Out of nowhere, he partnered me for the Boulanger, at the end of the night.”
“How charming.” Henrietta sighed. “Is it not wonderful that you have a special memory, to warm your heart? You know, I intended to play matchmaker for you two, at next year’s Season.”
“You did?” Margaret asked, with more than a little surprise, as she was so certain no one noticed her. “Why?”
“Because you are a diamond of the first water, and I told Ernest the very same, after I received your mother’s order for a new wardrobe.” Then Henrietta snickered. “And despite your best efforts to conceal your talents, and prove otherwise, you know how to play the piano better than you let on, because you cannot fool me.”
“I am not sure I get your meaning.” Margaret shifted her weight.
“Oh, I think you do.” Lowering her chin, Henrietta caught Margaret in a narrow stare. “While I am curious as to your motives, I am an artist, although in a different realm, and I know talent when I see it, so you cannot hide from me.”
“I apologize, as I meant no offense.” Caught in a well-intentioned scheme, Margaret compressed her lips. “But Miranda could never play an instrument or sing half so well, and I would not shame her.”
“Yours is a generous heart, thus you need not apologize.” Florence leaned forward and reached to clasp Margaret’s hand. “But I think you will do well in this family, and we are lucky to have you.”
“I concur.” Henrietta nodded, and never had Margaret known such acceptance. “Now, we are your sisters, too. Since Percy’s country estate is but three hours away, we will live our childhood fantasy, which was to raise our families, together. Indeed, that is why Ernest purchased Whitstone, as he always wanted to be near his brother and his cousin.”
“What a lovely dream.” Touched by her future husband’s sentimental nature, Margaret clutched her throat. “I hope I live up to your expectation, as I would not disappoint you for anything in the world.”
Just then, Barrington and Ernest walked into the back parlor.
“Ladies, I hate to break up your tea, but another storm is upon us, and it is snowing.” Barrington drew Florence from the chair and kissed her, and Margaret was struck by the affection he displayed for his wife, without restraint. “My love, I would journey home, before the roads become treacherous.”
“Oh, dear.” Florence rushed into the hall. “While our children are in the care of their nanny, I cannot be separated from them overnight, thus we must depart, posthaste.”
Barrington peered over his shoulder and said to Ernest, “What did I tell you?”
“I understand.” Chuckling, Ernest pulled Henrietta into his arms. “How do you feel, sweetheart? Are you not overdue for your nap? Should I carry you upstairs?”
“Ernest, stop worrying, because I am fine, and I can walk, as there is naught wrong with my legs.” In play, Henrietta swatted at him, and Margaret envied their close relatio
nship. “Let us bid farewell to your brother and Florence, and then we can retire, and you may fuss over me until dinner.”
“I like the sound of that.” He waggled his brows. “Oh, by the by, Margaret, my cousin would have a word with you, in my study.”
“Of course.” After exchanging fond farewells with the marquess and marchioness, Margaret navigated the side hall and turned right, down a second passage. As she neared the last door, she noted a rather fervent discussion between her father and her fiancé, and she drew up short and hugged the wall.
“Sir, if you are set, and I cannot dissuade you, I will take the sum of Margaret’s dowry, until the debt is repaid.”
That singular statement gave her pause, because Percy claimed he had no need of her dowry.
“Now I must tell Beryl, although I dread it, as it will devastate her, but I do not see how I can avoid it, as she must know the truth of your engagement, as well as our dire financial situation.”
Margaret bit the fleshy underside of her thumb, to stifle a shriek of alarm.
“If you are to retrench and economize, your wife must be apprised of the gravity of your predicament. But Margaret cannot know, as I would not have her told that you bargained her hand in marriage, and I will invest the amount of her dowry, the returns of which I shall deposit in your account, keeping only that which is mine by law, based on the betrothal agreement.”
Slumped forward, she pressed a palm to her suddenly unstable belly and feared she might vomit.
“If you insist.”
“I do, John.”
“Then I should seek Beryl, once she wakes, reveal the whole, miserable situation, and I must pray it does not destroy her.”
With ears ringing, Margaret clutched her throat, as her gown threatened to suffocate her, and her worst nightmare sprang to life before her. When she realized her father neared, she ducked into a small room, the winter garden, which featured floor to ceiling windows and potted plants.
Once Upon a Christmas Knight Page 5