by Abby Grahame
It was more like a palace than a home. As much as Nora dreamed of leaving the service, there were other moments when she was glad for the warmth and coziness of the downstairs kitchen and the low-ceilinged servants’ quarters. To inhabit Wentworth Hall was like living in a vast impersonal museum, full of artifacts but lacking any sense of hominess.
As Nora neared the guest room door, she was shocked to see that light was emanating from the space at the bottom of another guest room door. At this hour? Who could be in there?
Approaching noiselessly and with caution, Nora crept to the door and listened. She recognized the voices immediately: Maggie and Teddy Fitzhugh were engaged in an impassioned argument.
“If that’s how you feel, why then did you agree to meet me for a tryst in the middle of the night?” Teddy asked in a voice bristling with anger and wounded pride.
“I’ve told you!” Maggie cried, exasperated. Nora could picture the girl throwing her arms wide. “I thought I could force myself to have feelings for you. I’ve tried! But I simply can’t feel what I don’t feel.”
“And can you force yourself to entertain feelings with a doddering duke more than twice your age?” Teddy came back at her angrily.
Maggie was silent, then said softly, “I don’t know.”
“I have as much money, probably more, than he has. And I’m a great deal younger. How can you compare the two of us? There’s not even a contest.”
“This is not a competition! I don’t want him, either. I don’t even know him and he doesn’t know me. It’s absurd. Father is only entertaining the idea because he wants to make an advantageous connection with a wealthy man. He’s using me as a pawn and I don’t want that. It’s why I tried to love you, Teddy. I wish I could love you. For a while I thought I could.”
“You are a liar!” Teddy accused her. “You’ve been stringing me along for over a month now and you never returned my love.”
“I wasn’t toying with you. Honestly. I was trying my best to learn to love you,” Maggie explained.
“Because you saw it would be advantageous to love me?”
“Yes! It would suit everyone if I could return your affection—but I don’t. I have to be honest with myself and with you. I simply do not love you. It’s out of my control.”
“And am I so impossible to love?”
Nora cringed at the hurt in his voice. At the moment he was not the pompous peacock she’d become used to seeing strutting around the estate with an air of condescension. He was a lovesick pup who was having his dreams dashed.
“Someone will find you easy to love,” Maggie said, her voice growing kinder. “It’s just not me.”
“I wish you had told me all this a month ago before I made a fool of myself over you. My sister was right about you,” Teddy snarled, enraged.
“Jessica? What did she have to do with all this?”
“She cautioned me against you—not that I would listen. She even tried to parade your slip of a sister before me to distract my affections. To prove it was not love that I felt, but blind infatuation. But I was too besotted to see what everyone else must have known all along.”
“I’m sorry, Teddy,” Maggie said, her voice cracking.
“Not as sorry as I am,” Teddy snapped back.
Nora jumped, flattening against the wall, as the door banged open and Teddy blew out of the smoking room, storming down the hall. Nora sank back into the shadows along the wall. “Nor as sorry as you will be, Maggie Darlington,” she heard him mutter.
Peering into the crack of the open door, Nora saw Maggie sink into the ripped leather couch, weeping.
Nora decided to let Maggie have her moment of grief in private. When she was sure that Teddy was gone, she scampered back down the dark, moonlit hall to her room.
Chapter Nine
MAGGIE STOOD ON THE MEZZANINE FLOOR, observing the stately dancers moving on the gleaming marble floor of the Duke of Cotswall’s ballroom below. A quadrille was really such an old-fashioned, formal type of dance. It had its own beauty, she supposed, but it wasn’t for her.
The women all wore the same off-the-shoulder kind of gown, nipped tightly at the waist with a wide flowing skirt below. Lady Darlington had insisted that Maggie take off the kimono-style dress with the flowing overdress and matching headpiece that she’d planned to wear. Now she tugged on the loathed taffeta corset she wore beneath her plum-colored, crepe de chine gown. It was cutting under her breasts and squeezing her rib cage.
The men were dressed in black tails and trousers. With erect posture they stepped back and forth, promenading with their lady partners: hands held high, chins tipped up, smiles frozen in place.
Quaint and pleasant as the dancers were, Maggie’s eyes were not on them. Instead they were fixed on Teddy Fitzhugh, who had glued himself to her father’s side this evening. More worrisome than that was the expression on Teddy’s face whenever he laid eyes on her. At those times his expression glowed with triumphant mockery, his mouth twisting into a tight smile. Maggie didn’t like it. Some treachery was being enacted; if only she could figure out what he was up to.
Not that Teddy didn’t have a right to be upset with her. She hadn’t meant to lead him on the way she had. She had tried with her whole heart to love him. She just couldn’t do it. Even when she was trying to do right, it ended up so wrong.
She took another step back from the banister. For the moment, she seemed to be eluding her father’s gaze up here on the mezzanine tucked behind a mosaic-covered pillar. Maggie ducked back even farther as the Duke of Cotswall joined Teddy and Lord Darlington. The sight of their wealthy next-door neighbor with his protruding ears, rotund belly, and double chins sent a chill through her. Was her father insane?! Did he really expect her to consider marrying this toad of a man?
In a heart-stopping gesture, Teddy pointed up to the mezzanine, pointing out Maggie’s whereabouts to the duke and Lord Darlington. Had he realized she was there all along? Pivoting swiftly, Maggie attempted to look as though she was gazing in another direction and completely unaware of their attention.
Maggie turned and hurried away in search of a new hiding spot. Spying a side door down a short flight of stairs, she headed for it and found herself suddenly sprung free into the sultry summer night. What a relief!
“Have you made a clean escape?”
Maggie’s head swung toward the familiar voice. “Michael!” she gasped before she could stop herself. In his groom’s uniform with its short military-style jacket and form-fitting pants over tall, well-polished boots, he was, by far, the most dashingly handsome man at Cotswall Manor that night.
“You’re looking very beautiful tonight,” Michael remarked, almost begrudgingly. With similar hesitation, he began walking toward her. The overhead outside gas lanterns shimmered on his dark hair and she felt again that familiar pang of longing he had elicited within her. When had their childhood camaraderie transformed into this other feeling? The truth was, she could no longer recall a time she hadn’t loved him. And why couldn’t she make this wanting stop, no matter how much she tried? Despite all that had happened…?
“It was a bore in there,” Maggie attempted to explain as he joined her.
“Then stay here with me.”
His green eyes fixed on her in a way that made her move toward him in an involuntary sway. When he was near, she felt like a plant inclining toward the sun. But those green eyes also served as a reminder… she had to stay strong. It was the only right thing to do now.
“Maggie, listen,” Michael spoke in a firm, gentle voice. “The other day didn’t go very well between us but I only want to understand why—”
“There you are!” Teddy called, coming through the side door. “I thought I saw you leave through here.”
The duke and her father followed as Teddy came to her side. With a darting glance, she watched Michael walk off, disappearing into the darkness. As the two men drew close, she forced a smile to her lips.
“Teddy!” she cooed as
though he were a welcome sight. “You’ve found me. I came out here for some air and to admire the lovely gardens.”
“Not as lovely as you, yourself,” Teddy said smoothly.
Oh, how she loathed him at this moment, so smug and pleased that he had her trapped. She’d been right not to take his claims of love seriously. How could he have really loved her so recently and resort to this now?
The heavyset duke’s small, dark, bright eyes bore into her. Bowing at the waist, the duke reached for her hand. Willing herself not to flinch, Maggie extended her hand to be kissed. Although she knew the duke to be an avid hunter, his hands were disconcertingly soft, almost feminine, a thing Maggie found repugnant in a man. His kiss left a wet mark on her hand, which she forced herself not to wipe away as she withdrew it. “Are you enjoying the quadrille, Duke?” she asked politely.
“Please, call me Edmund,” the duke replied. “And yes, I am enjoying myself immensely. I thank you for the invitation, for Mr. Fitzhugh here has informed me that it was you who extended it.”
How she wanted to strangle Teddy!
“We are neighbors, after all,” Maggie said, trying to mitigate the situation by making it known that neighborly obligation was what had motivated her, and nothing more scintillating.
“We have not seen nearly enough of each other,” Edmund Marlborough replied in a tone that Maggie found oily and unctuous.
“We certainly will be seeing much more of you, Edmund,” Lord Darlington said with warmth.
“Would you and your family accept my invitation to lunch tomorrow?” Edmund asked Lord Darlington.
“We would be delighted,” Lord Darlington replied.
This was getting out of hand. The intent way the duke was gazing at her was making her flesh crawl. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to rebuff Teddy. At the very least he was her age and handsome. “Lunch tomorrow might not be good for me,” Maggie said. “Teddy and I always take our stroll at that time, don’t we, Teddy?” This was almost true. They used to take a lunchtime stroll but since their blowup three nights earlier they had not. If the duke thought she was involved with a man more her age, he might back off.
“I won’t be able to stroll with you anymore,” Teddy put in quickly.
“Really? Has there been a change in our plans?” she bluffed. She hadn’t expected him to turn on her so completely. Not to the point of out and out rudeness.
“No, I won’t be strolling with you anymore ever, I’m afraid,” Teddy continued. “The business of my upcoming inheritance will require my full attention from now on.” With a sharp bow Teddy bade the men good-bye and walked off.
Lord Darlington looked perplexed. “Poor boy must be feeling the pressure of having to run his late father’s empire. He is not normally so brusque.”
“Young men are so fickle in their… pursuits,” Edmund remarked evenly.
“Yes” was all Maggie could think of to say. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, unable to think of a new plan, especially with the duke and her father right there staring so expectantly at her.
Edmund offered her his bent elbow. “I heard you have recently been abroad,” he began. “Tell me your impressions of Paris. It’s been several years since I have been there.”
He smelled of the heavy pomade he’d used to slick his thinning hair over the bald top of his head. “Did you attend the Opera House?” he asked.
“No, I never got there,” Maggie replied.
“I adore opera,” the duke said as he strolled with her and Lord Darlington.
“The theater must be grand, I suppose,” Maggie answered. “I’ve never quite understood opera.”
“You must try it!” the duke said to her. “The opera is thrilling.” He went on at great length as they descended the stairs, telling her of last season’s operas and their various plots. Maggie felt as though she was attending a classical music appreciation class.
The duke steered them back toward the side door from which she’d exited, and guided her down onto an ornate outside bench of wrought iron. “We can enjoy the lovely evening here together if you like.”
Trapped! There was not a chance of escaping from him now. How pleased Teddy must be! At least her father was still with them. Her mother would have abandoned her with this catch long ago!
“You two chat and get to know each other better,” Lord Darlington cut in. “I need to check something with Lady Darlington.”
Drat!
Maggie had no choice but to sit and listen to Edmund continue on regarding his early days as a young opera fan. Her nostrils flared as she suppressed waves of yawning.
A servant burst from the side door, a look of alarm on his face. “Sir,” he addressed Edmund urgently. “Your horse is galloping loose on the grounds. Somehow he jumped the paddock fence where he was being cooled!”
Edmund leaped up, seeming to forget Maggie entirely, and rushed back inside behind his servant.
Maggie stood, straining to see out onto the grounds beyond the circle of lights cast by the estate’s lanterns. She discerned large forms moving in the darkness and detected the pounding of hoofbeats off in the distance.
“Michael,” she whispered to herself. Thrilled by the idea, she realized only Michael could have—would have—done such a thing. He’d done it to free her from Teddy and from Edmund. Michael—her hero even when she didn’t deserve one.
Lila gathered the rose-colored silk of her gown. Her dress was not the gorgeous off-the-shoulder affairs the grown women wore—her mother had forbidden that—but a dress she was happy with nonetheless, with a shawl neckline. She was pleasantly amazed at how unopposed her parents had been to her more mature makeover. Perhaps they simply accepted it was the right time, though a darker part of Lila suspected that they were just too distracted with their own lives—her mother with James and marrying off Maggie, and her father with Wentworth Hall—to take much notice.
The quadrille had become quite dull since a large population of the male guests had run off to help the Duke of Cotswall retrieve his carriage horse that was now galloping free across his fields. How happy and eager the men had been to shed their formal coats and go out to help recapture the escaped horse. What a stroke of luck for Maggie! Evil as Maggie had been since her return, even Lila pitied her sister having to duck the attentions of a man nearly as old as their own father.
Lila had noticed that Jessica had disappeared from the ball and now headed for the outside garden. It was pretty clear that Teddy’s affections for Maggie had been rebuffed. The two of them hadn’t even spoken for the last three days and Teddy was in a foul mood, all scowls and growls. Hopefully that would pass in time. Finally this was Lila’s chance to make him forget about her haughty sister. If only she could catch his attention. Perhaps Jessica could help her with that.
When Lila was near Jessica’s room, she saw that the door was open and the girl had seated herself on a bench facing the Duke’s famed beautiful rose bushes. The fashionable deep red gown she’d worn during her brief appearance at the quadrille seemingly matched the budding blooms. Her auburn hair was bound up in an elaborate twist of braids and curls. Lila thought she looked gorgeous.
Since their friendly conversation of the week before, the one that had suddenly turned sour at the end, Jessica seemed to be avoiding her. Lila was mystified by what had happened. It seemed to coincide with Teddy losing interest in Maggie. So many secrets inside Wentworth Hall, and as usual, Lila was in the dark about all of them.
With a light step toward her, Lila coughed to get her attention.
Startled, Jessica twisted toward Lila and pouted at the sight of her. “Oh, hello, Lila. Bored of the ball?”
Lila presumed to settle lightly at the end of the bench. “The men have run off to catch a runaway horse,” Lila reported.
Jessica shut the red notebook she’d been writing in, slipping it into her purse, and straightened. “You people can’t even throw an intriguing ball, can you?” she complained. “The men i
n this neighborhood would rather catch a horse than flirt with the pretty girls. What a pack of rubes.”
Stung, Lila scowled at her. “‘You people’? I suppose the gentry are so much more fascinating in South Africa,” she snapped.
“No, not in Johannesburg, though we have our share of darlings. The place where they’re really suave is London,” Jessica declared.
At the mention of London, Lila decided to bite back the instinct to match Jessica’s peevish tone. “You’ve been to London?” she asked.
“During this past spring season: Father wanted Teddy and me to meet some of society’s best, so he brought us over. He had his fatal heart attack at one of the season’s fanciest balls given by one of the best families in London. That’s how we happened to come to you. We wouldn’t have come all the way here from South Africa. Our father’s solicitor, who has our money held hostage right now, insisted that we come here until we turn eighteen. It’s so dreadful.”
“Is it really so awful?” Lila challenged, her temper rising. “Hasn’t everyone been nice to you here?”
“It’s not that,” Jessica allowed. “It’s simply so dull here.”
Lila stood up, deeply annoyed. Jessica’s implication was that Lila—the only one who had attempted to be friendly to Jessica—was too dreadfully dull for words. Lila felt foolish for ever believing Jessica could be a friend to her, or an ally in trying to win Teddy’s affection. Would she think it was hilarious for poor hopelessly boring Lila to set her cap for the fascinating and incredibly wealthy Teddy Fitzhugh?
“Thank heavens I have this notebook to write in or I’d go mad,” Jessica continued. “There’s not even an interesting novel in the entire library. Believe me, I’ve searched.”
She couldn’t fault Jessica for that last statement. Lila had often thought the same thing herself. Lila wandered to the edge of the patio and looked out over the moonlit field. She strained to hear any sign of the runaway coach horse or the men. Lila was about to turn away when she spied movement in front of the stable.