“One moment, please,” Ainsley asked before noticing Margaret turning from him and progressing down the hall. Ainsley chased after her and grabbed hold her arm so she would look at him.
“It wasn’t me,” he said quickly. “Samuel and Garret must have taken her there of their own accord. You have to believe me.”
Margaret pulled her arm away abruptly and met his gaze with anger. “Quite frankly, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
A few minutes later, they were all seated in the dining hall, a vast room elegantly adorned with hanging chandeliers and massive bouquets of flowers at each pillar. The table had been set for twelve, with Margaret and Blair seated opposite Ainsley. Jonas was given a more prominent seat toward the head of the table. Priscilla Stratton, who was hardly over the age of twenty, was seated next to Ainsley and almost immediately proved herself incapable of meaningful conversation.
One chair at the table beside Margaret was notably empty and that’s when Ainsley noticed Brandon was missing from the gathering.
Lady Thornton, seated next to her husband at the head of the table, looked apologetically to her guests. “Please forgive my son’s absence,” she said. “We hold on to the hope that he will be joining us shortly.”
Ainsley noticed a dejected look come over Priscilla’s face as the news was told to them.
“Will he be present at the hunt tomorrow?” Lady Stratton asked expectantly.
“He better be,” Ainsley heard Blair say quietly from across the table. When Ainsley looked to him he found Blair taking a sip of his wine.
“Most certainly,” Lady Thornton said, looking to Priscilla specifically. “He will not want to miss any more of your visit with us.”
“I’m sure that whatever may be keeping him is a responsibility which cannot be ignored,” Sir John said.
Lady Thornton bowed her head gracefully, thanking him for a tactful response.
“My brother thinks himself different from all this,” Blair confessed to those at his end of the table.
“He doesn’t enjoy hosting dinners and the like?” Margaret asked, as the first course was placed in front of her.
“Not in any way,” Blair said. “He has many grand ideas on the way things should be.”
Margaret stole a glance to Ainsley, who as well wished to be free of his role as second son.
“Do you know where he is?” Ainsley asked, quiet enough that only Blair and Margaret could hear.
“Sadly, I do not,” Blair answered primly. “Surprisingly.” His attitude remained cold toward Ainsley, a condition that matched Margaret’s entirely.
“You both are quite close, I understand,” Margaret offered.
“Extremely.”
Blair continued to drink eagerly throughout all courses, signalling the butler each time his glass was empty. Ainsley watched anxiously as the final dishes were cleared and the women withdrew. He expected Lord Thornton to give his son a reprimand once the ladies had cleared but no such admonishment came. The eldest Thornton only gave a look of resignation as they exited the dining hall and made way for his study.
Lord Thornton poured a glass of port for each of the men, Ainsley, Jonas, and Sir John, but his son waved it away and headed for one of the other bottles.
“Should we be alarmed by Mr. Thornton’s continued absence?” Sir John asked as they gathered round the fireplace, glasses in their hands.
“No, no, certainly not,” Lord Thornton said. “He has done this quite often and always returns home.”
“I can’t imagine he has gotten himself into any sort of trouble out here, so far from the diversions of London,” Sir John offered.
“My boys have always behaved properly,” Lord Thornton said. “I have no need to worry on their account.”
Ainsley looked to Blair, who hovered over the bottles of alcohol, avoiding the conversation.
“My daughter tells me you have an impressive collection of horses,” Sir John said. “I should like to see them.”
“You shall have your fill of them tomorrow at the hunt,” Lord Thornton said, placing his empty glass on the mantel. “Peter, you and Dr. Davies are both coming, yes?”
“Unfortunately, I must leave tomorrow. I begin my tenure at Edinburgh in a few weeks and must prepare.”
Blair turned. “Edinburgh?”
“I am to work under Dr. Tate, a professor at the university.”
Blair raised the tumbler to his lips in an effort to mask his smile. “Godspeed.”
Lord Thornton clasped a firm hand on Jonas’s shoulder in approval. “Top notch, Dr. Davies.”
“I’m quite looking forward to the hunt,” Nathaniel interjected, offering an eager smile. Lord Thornton and Sir John turned to the young man, perhaps surprised he was still in the room. Lord Thornton gave an awkward nod, acknowledging Nathaniel’s comment before moving on to other topics. Ainsley was amused by his cousin’s attempt to garner attention. His family was unknown in England and would suffer a hard time of it if he expected to meld in with society so easily. Favour was often accomplished with difficulty, relying heavily on luck and circumstance rather than presence alone.
“I don’t understand,” Nathaniel said to Ainsley as he came alongside him. “What did I say?”
“Perhaps if you were less intrusive,” Ainsley said quietly. “When they get to know you they will accept you,” Ainsley said quietly. “But it takes time.”
Nathaniel nodded, eager to take his cousin’s advice but then blatantly disregarded it when again he tried to plant himself into another conversation between Lord Thornton and Sir John.
“And I thought I looked foolish,” Jonas said to Ainsley.
“He’ll learn,” Ainsley answered. He kept his gaze trained on Nathaniel, and found it very difficult not to find his blunders amusing.
After handing each of the men a cigar, Lord Thornton led a toast in Jonas’s honour, congratulated him on his new position, and wished him the best of luck with the Scots. Everyone seemed generally happy for the young doctor, but all Ainsley could think about was the loss of a dear friend. A year prior, Ainsley would have lamented not being picked for the position himself, but that day he was saddened at the prospect of returning to London and St. Thomas without the aid of his closest ally. He wasn’t so sure he could do it alone.
Chapter 30
But with unstinted power
Makes every day his own.
Margaret couldn’t remember playing a more boring match of Whisk in all her life. Lady Thornton nearly won each trick while Priscilla fumbled with her cards, asking a great deal of bothersome questions and distracting Margaret considerably. She’d have walked away from the table were there anyone else to speak with but given that their party was so small she couldn’t very well do so without causing offence.
“I’m not talking your ear off, am I?” Priscilla finally asked.
“Of course not,” Margaret lied.
A moment later the men returned, filing into the room and disrupting their card game. When Margaret looked up she saw Nathaniel heading straight for them at the table.
“Enjoyed your time with the men, have you?” Margaret asked, taking in the unmistakable scent of cigar from Nathaniel’s collar as he knelt between her and Priscilla.
“Yes, of course,” Nathaniel said, somewhat taken aback. “Your father is a very interesting man,” he said directing his attentions at Priscilla.
“Did he bore you with tales from the Crimea?” Priscilla asked. “Daddy is always doing that.”
“No, it wasn’t a bore at all,” Nathaniel clarified.
Margaret felt someone come up behind her. “A word, Miss Margaret, if I may?” The stench of alcohol on Blair’s breath was overpowering, so much so Margaret was forced to turn her nose away, hiding her discomfort behind a bashful smile. She excused herself from Nathaniel and Priscilla’s company and followed Blair to a corner of the room.
She couldn’t help but notice Blair’s agitation. He seemed so much more in contr
ol of himself the other day it hardly seemed like him at all. He avoided her gaze while he composed himself. Margaret waited, twisting her fingers nervously, wondering what he could possibly have to say to her. A confession, perhaps? Admission to Ainsley’s charge?
“Who is Dr. Davies to you?” he asked bluntly, running his hand over his mouth.
“I beg your pardon?” Margaret was so taken aback by his line of questioning she wasn’t quite sure she had heard him correctly.
“I noticed how you looked at him across the dinner table,” Blair said, leaning his arm on the mantel. “We’ve known each other long enough there should be no need to act coy. The other day—”
“The other day you were sober,” Margaret said, angered by his forthright questioning. A true gentleman would never put a lady on the spot in such a way. “I liked you far better then.” She moved as if to walk away but Blair pulled her back, tugging on her elbow. Margaret could have slapped him, and certainly wouldn’t have felt sorry for it, but decorum demanded that she be discreet.
“He’s a tradesman, you know,” Blair said, slurring slightly. “He’ll be unable to provide for you the way you deserve.”
Margaret snatched her arm away but kept her gaze on him. “He’s a hundred times the man you pretend to be,” she said. She took a breath to relax her shoulders before returning to the card table where only Priscilla and Nathaniel remained in conversation. She felt Blair’s gaze on her as she went and found it difficult to calm her thundering heart even after she took a seat.
She hadn’t expected such behaviour from so dear a friend. Perhaps her brother had been right. People grow up. They change, sometimes never again resembling the people they were as children. She wanted so much to believe that Blair and Brandon were good people, that they were incapable of what Ainsley accused them of. So many times before had she believed someone innocent only to be proven wrong. The fact that they were childhood friends should not have affected her skepticism and yet she allowed their history to cloud her judgement. Perhaps they were involved in Mr. Owen’s death. Could Blair be the father of Ivy’s baby?
“Cousin Margaret?”
Margaret was snapped from her thoughts to find she was alone at the table with Nathaniel.
“Are you well?”
Nodding feebly, she glanced over her shoulder to find Blair had gone. “Where is Miss Priscilla?” she asked in an attempt to change the subject.
“Her mother called her away,” Nathaniel explained. “Do you think it may have had something to do with me?”
Margaret shook her head and reached over the table to touch Nathaniel’s arm. “If you expect to fit in with society, you need to develop a thicker skin.” Nathaniel nodded but she knew it would be a while before he’d be able to shed his insecurities. Margaret herself could relate and knew it was only through the passing of time that she had grown used to the scrutiny and judgements.
“You do realize Priscilla is promised to Brandon Thornton?” Margaret asked, taking care to keep her voice low.
“Yes, indeed, but she seems so forlorn with no one to speak with. The nerve of that man, leaving her here all by her lonesome.” Nathaniel appeared particularly agitated that Brandon still had not arrived. “If I had someone as sweet as that waiting on me…well, she wouldn’t be waiting on me. That’s for sure.”
Margaret smiled at her cousin’s remarks. “I doubt you would be speaking so if your mother was here.”
At the mention of his mother, Nathaniel’s expression fell. “Probably not.”
“I do not understand why she declined such a lovely invitation,” Margaret said. “Even I can handle a simple dinner party.”
Nathaniel squared his shoulders as Margaret spoke and she could see his relaxed hand on the table curl into a slight fist. He averted his gaze and licked his lips.
“What did I say?” Margaret leaned in closer. “Tell me, Nathaniel.”
Reluctantly, Nathaniel spoke, scanning the room to make sure no one else was in earshot. “I’m afraid Mother won’t be up to these gatherings for some time, not after what Father did to her.”
“What do you mean?”
Nathaniel took a breath before he began. “Father was never kind to Mother. I used to hear them fighting almost every night from my room. The walls in those houses are so paper thin, you see. They’d disagree about money or discipline for the boys but mostly it was about Mother’s homesickness. She never did feel at home in India.” He looked to his hands. “They never fought about his mistresses, though.”
“Mistresses?” Margaret felt her voice rise but caught herself in time before she drew attention from the room. “He entertained more than one?”
Nathaniel nodded. Margaret could see his eyes welling up before he blinked it away. “Mother told me she didn’t care. She said as long as he came home to her each night and provided us with a home, it didn’t matter. I could see it hurt her though, inside.” He pointed to his chest. “Everyone’s husband took a mistress there but no one ever spoke about it openly. But then Father made a mess of things.”
Margaret swallowed. She was unsure she wanted to hear anymore. What was relayed to her already seemed more than a woman could bear.
“There was a dinner party. Mother and Father were both invited as were nearly every other aristocratic family of English origin. It was quite special, you see. On the day of the event Mother fell ill with a headache. The humidity always seemed to cause her suffering. She couldn’t go and Father decided to go without her. He decided to bring his mistress instead.”
Margaret raised a hand to her mouth and bowed her head. “Oh, Aunt Louisa.”
“That is not the worst of it,” Nathaniel said. “An hour later Mother said she felt better and decided to go. I wasn’t there,” he said, suffering genuine regret at not being present to support his mother. “But to hear tell of it things did not go well. Mother was embarrassed, in front of all English-Indian society, no less. I don’t believe she is over the shock, really. All those people you believed were your friends. It’s unimaginable.” Nathaniel shifted in his seat and sniffled. “She confessed to me on the ship heading back to England that she was glad of it. That she could consider herself free to do as she pleased now. But I’m not so sure.”
“Does she plan to seek a divorce?” Margaret was careful to whisper though she needn’t have worried. Everyone else in the room was enjoying their drink and laughing at each other’s jokes without a care in the world.
“I don’t know,” Nathaniel answered truthfully. “I do know that she is grateful to you and Peter for allowing us a place to stay. Mother has been in much higher spirits since we arrived at your doorstep. I don’t know how we would have survived these last few weeks without you.” Nathaniel reached over the table and squeezed Margaret’s hand, blinking back tears as she looked at him.
Margaret placed her other hand on top of his and returned his squeeze. “All of you may stay as long as you like.”
Chapter 31
And for my freedom's sake
With such I'll pattern take,
The rain pounded on the roof of the carriage as it left the shelter of the trees in front of Breaside. The noise grew like a thousand beating hearts thumping and pulsing as they drove on. Ainsley found himself becoming uneasy and tried to steady his breathing but found it difficult against the bouncing of the carriage on the uneven roads.
“Peter, are you well?” Jonas asked.
“Yes,” Ainsley said quickly, readjusting in his seat and pulling at his collar. “Quite well.”
Margaret eyed him suspiciously but said nothing, which was a relief to Ainsley, who was in no mood to discuss his rapidly changing state of mind.
The carriage continued on, cutting its way through the torrential rain. Halfway through their journey Ainsley slipped forward in his seat and craned his neck so he could see out the window, hoping the fresh air would help him. The carriage moved quickly, periodically bouncing its occupants this way and that as it maneuvered the r
uts in the road.
“Goodness!” Margaret threw out her arms to steady herself in her seat.
“I will be happy to get out of this rain,” Nathaniel said in an attempt to lighten the foreboding mood in the carriage.
Ainsley looked intently out the window, seeking any sign that they were close to home, and that is when he saw her, a girl, standing at the side of the road, soaking wet and bleeding from an injury to the head.
“Stop the carriage!” Ainsley yelled. He banged on the ceiling of the coach and unlatched the door while it still moved. “Stop the carriage!” Without waiting for the carriage to stop he jumped down and ran back to where he had seen the girl.
The rain pelted his face and his feet slid on the muddy road as he ran. Unable to see where he was and not knowing where exactly she had been standing when they passed, he ran as far as he could along the roadside. After a time, he stopped. “Where are you?” he yelled into the rain. “I can help you!” He turned in place, retracing his steps before turning back to the road they had just driven down. It made no sense. He had seen her, as clear as he saw anything, but now the blackness of night had swallowed her.
“Peter, what is it?” Jonas ran toward him.
When Ainsley looked back to the carriage he saw Margaret pulling one of the lanterns from the side of the carriage. “I saw a girl,” Ainsley said to Jonas, ignoring the torrents of rain that ran down his face. “She was standing right here.”
“In this rain?”
“She was bleeding from her head, I think. The blood ran down her neck and arms.” Ainsley gestured with his hands as he spoke.
“Peter, stop this!” Margaret barked as she neared them.
The rain overtook them, seeping into their clothes and soaking their many layers in seconds. Margaret’s hair clung to the sides of her face as she lifted the lantern to see Ainsley.
“There’s no girl,” Jonas said, examining the side of the road.
“What girl?” Margaret asked.
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