by Jenna Brandt
“Say what you might, but I think you are more open to spending time with other men than you are feigning. I am only suggesting that I might be one of your admirers to whom you give special attention.”
Margaret stiffened and tried to put some space between them as they danced. She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the baron.
“Lord Marcus, I am not feeling myself. Would you please allow me to end our dance that I might be able to sit down?”
A look of displeasure crossed the baron’s face as he said, “I think you can manage a little longer, my dear. We are just getting started.”
What was she going to do? She could hardly stand to be near him and there was no dignified way to free herself of him without creating a scene. She felt trapped and truly feeling ill at the thought of dancing any longer with the baron.
Suddenly, the duke appeared behind the baron and tapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Baron Wollingleer, I think your time with Lady Margaret has come to an end.”
Margaret could see that the baron wanted to argue with him, but as Richard was of higher nobility, he deferred to the duke, saying, “As you wish, Your Grace.”
Smoothly sweeping her into his arms for a second time, the duke guided her around the dance floor.
“I hope you do not resent me interrupting, but it seemed as if you could use rescuing from the cad.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I appreciate you intervening. He thinks he has the right to take liberties with me since he is my betrothed’s godfather and uncle.”
“Nothing gives a man the right to mistreat a lady. Albeit the circumstances, I welcome the chance to dance together again.”
Margaret smiled up at him and stated, “As do I, my lord.”
“Glad to hear it.”
As he spun her around the floor, Margaret felt like she was floating on clouds. Just the mere touch of the duke’s hand resting at her waist made her giddy with excitement. He held her just a little closer than was necessary but not enough to create a scandal. She did not want the song to end, as she thought nothing could feel more wonderful than being in his arms.
Richard leaned down and whispered, “My lady, I have to confess. I am glad Lord Marcus is a cad since it afforded me the opportunity to be with you again.”
She smiled at him and started to reply, but the music ended, cutting off her response. Hesitantly, Margaret curtsied and Richard bowed in return.
“I think it is time I brought you to your father before even more tongues are wagging about us having two dances together this eve.” The duke escorted Margaret over to her father and said, “I hope the rest of your evening is everything you hope it will be. Good night, Lord Wellesley, Lady Margaret.”
After the duke had left and was out of earshot, the earl turned to Margaret and asked, “What happened to make the duke interrupt your dance with Lord Marcus?”
“The baron was making me feel uncomfortable with the way he was speaking to me. The duke must have seen through my body language how upset I was becoming and chose to intervene.”
“I think, given how your betrothed feels about him, it would be best if you avoid future contact with the duke.”
Margaret’s heart sank at the idea of avoiding Richard. She knew she should agree with what her father wanted for the sake of her engagement, but she found herself intrigued by the duke. However, she knew she could not confide that in her father. “I care about how Henry feels, I truly do, but I cannot ignore someone of the duke’s station if he chooses to attend another function here in Brighton. After all, you raised me to be a proper lady.”
“Of all the times for you to care about being proper, daughter, this is not one of them. You need to consider what is best for your future husband, and avoiding the duke should be at the top of your list.”
“I agree,” Margaret heard Henry say behind her back. “You need to stay away from him. I heard from my uncle that the duke interrupted your dance with him. He is trying to irritate me and lure you in at the same time.”
“He was nothing but a gentleman and was polite at every moment, which is more than I can say for your uncle.”
“My uncle can sometimes speak out of turn, but he is harmless.”
Margaret wanted to tell him how the baron had lewdly behaved towards her, but mortification over the entire situation made her remain quiet on the subject.
“I do not want to argue over this, Henry. Can we please just dance together and forget all of this happened tonight?”
He stared at her for a long moment before saying, “Tonight is your night, Margaret. I will do your bidding.”
Henry took her by the hand and led her onto the dance floor. She pushed everything else out of her mind and focused on the enjoyment of moving to the music.
Chapter 3
With slow ease, Margaret stretched her arms above her head. It had been a long night indeed, full of dancing, laughter, and fun.
Then she thought about the gossip she had overheard. Everyone was talking about how the two most eligible and sought-after young men of the ton were fighting over her. “It was enough to make a person’s blood boil!” one of the women had said with a giggle.
Margaret had never liked being the center of attention or the source of gossip. There was an easy solution to keep it from happening. She should not like or accept Richard’s attention as she was betrothed to Henry. Her mind knew that, but her heart rebelled.
However, she did not want to hurt Henry. He had always been there, and no doubt he would be there long after Richard was gone.
“My lady, I have your breakfast here for you. It is your favorite, on your father’s orders,” her lady’s maid, Sarah, stated with a smile.
Looking at the tray expectantly, it looked delicious. Two-minute eggs and toasted bread accompanied with freshly brewed tea and coffee were waiting to be devoured.
“Tell my father that I absolutely adore him and that he is the best father in the world!”
“I will deliver the message, my lady.” Sarah stopped and looked at Margaret with big green eyes. “You do remember that you have church service this morning and after, riding with Charlotte’s Pride scheduled for the afternoon?”
Religious activities were a routine part of her life. Both her parents had been Christians and had attended religious services regularly. After her mother’s death, her father continued to go every Sunday and made sure that she was in attendance as well. She, on the other hand, had a hard time relating to the abstract God that was so prevalent in the sermons that she heard every Sunday. That was one of the things that she and Henry had in common. They both believed in God but viewed God more as someone watching over them and putting his unknown plans into motion. They had talked in length about it growing up, and they both believed God was watching and protecting them but that was the extent of his interaction in their lives. Margaret and Henry agreed that, if you were a good person and believed in God, that was all God really wanted from you.
“Yes, let me finish my breakfast, and then have one of the servants come help me get ready for the day. Meanwhile, as I finish this—” She took a bite of the blueberry scone. Getting a crumb on her lower lip, she gently dabbed it away with a napkin. “—please prepare my yellow outfit with the cream trim and matching hat for this afternoon and confirm with my father’s valet that my father is ready to go. You know how he gets busy with his work and forgets the time.”
“Yes, my lady, I will do that right now. I have already laid out your pink dress with the embroidered flowers on it along with its matching hat for church service. If that will be all, my lady, I will be on my way to take care of those tasks.”
Margaret watched the departing figure of her companion and, in all reality, only true confidant. Growing up, Margaret was incredibly shy and unable to relate to the other girls her age with whom she was expected to associate. She was different, having an intense desire to read and spend countless hours in the stables. The only person she was able to talk to was Sar
ah, and due to that, the most unlikely friendship was forged.
Sarah was beautiful when Margaret thought about it. If circumstances had been different and Sarah had been born into a titled family, she could easily have been the center of the ton and won countless hearts. With her long blonde hair and bright green eyes, she was a sharp contrast to Margaret’s dark beauty, but that was where their differences ended. Their personalities, tastes, and principles were almost exactly the same. That was probably why Margaret never found a need to have other acquaintances. All she needed in a friend and companion, she found in Sarah.
But recently, Margaret could feel Sarah distancing herself emotionally from Margaret, almost as if Sarah knew that when Margaret was married, their unusual friendship would have to change to accommodate Margaret’s new position in Henry’s household. Margaret did not like it but could not figure out a way to fix the growing distance between the two.
As Margaret finished her morning meal, her mind floated to thoughts of her horse, Charlotte’s Pride, named after her mother. Her father doted on her, and because of her intense love of horses, he listened to her input in regards to the ones they owned. As her most prized horse, Margaret focused her attention towards making sure that the trainers were doing everything properly to prepare Charlie, as she liked to call her, for show. As a woman, Margaret was not allowed to train or show Charlie herself, but it did not stop her from reading extensively on the subject and spending many hours in the stables soaking up what knowledge she could. Her young Arabian filly was the most magnificent of their estate horses and had consumed her life the past year.
Charlie was pure black from her mane to her tail. The only sign of color was the white blaze on her forehead, a trait passed down through her bloodlines. She was a beautiful horse, and people had already been making offers. Thankfully, when it came to their estate horses, her father took her feelings into consideration. She asked him not to sell Charlie even though he had been offered a small fortune.
Luckily, money was of little consequence to Margaret as her father had plenty, and soon she would be married to Henry, whose income was almost twice her father’s. Once she was married, she could devote her whole life to her husband, future children, and horses. Until then, Charlotte’s Pride would have to do.
Margaret expected to see the regular attendees of their local church. Henry would be there of course, sitting next to his uncle and aunt, the Baron and Baroness Wollingleer, since both his parents were no longer alive. Also present would be the Earl of Bunsdure; the Marquess Sedrick, who was cousins with Queen Victoria; Lord and Lady Almonbury, who lived near Margaret and her father; and various other important people within their county.
When she arrived, Margaret noticed there was a great bit of buzz surrounding Holy Trinity Church. Something was going on that had everyone whispering. As she entered the chapel doors after her father, she saw the faces that belonged, but to her surprise, she glimpsed someone unfamiliar sitting in a place of honor in the front pew. Seeing the back of the man’s head, something about him seemed familiar.
The stranger was talking with Reverend Portman as well as the Earl of Bunsdure. He seemed to be exacting the undivided attention of the other two men, as the three were completely absorbed in their conversation.
Margaret followed her father to their place, two pews behind the stranger, and sat down. Pursing her lips, Margaret glanced up and tried to get a better glimpse of the man without making it obvious.
It could not be. She could see the side of his face now, and she realized with shock that it was the Duke of Witherton. Of course, it made sense that he was at church since he had been at the ball last night and most likely stayed with a friend or relative nearby, but it seemed quite curious that he was becoming familiar to everyone in her county so suddenly. What was his motive?
Trying to keep her mind on the sermon to no avail, Margaret continually found her thoughts focusing on the duke. His presence made her uncomfortable, not because she did not want him there, but rather because she did. She should not want to see him or find a reason to talk to him again, but as the service was ending, she realized she was going to come up with an excuse to do just that.
But before Margaret could get out of her pew and make her way up to the duke, Baroness Wollingleer stopped her. “My dear, how are the wedding preparations going?”
Margaret politely replied, “I have not really been thinking about it as the wedding will not be for at least another two years.”
It was obvious the answer did not sit well with the baroness. Her plastered smile quickly turned into a disapproving frown.
“But you and Henry have been betrothed for so long. What reason is there to wait?”
Margaret was trying to think of a way to answer when Henry stepped in and said, “Aunt Helen, you know Margaret’s father and I have made all the arrangements regarding this matter and that we are in agreement that the wedding will take place when Lady Margaret is eighteen.”
Smiling at her intended with gratitude, Margaret knew that it was uncommon to wait as long as they had to get married, but Henry had accepted her father’s unusual request for them to wait until she was eighteen. The earl had explained that, with Margaret being his only living child and him being a widower, he was not ready to be without her just yet.
“But that seems so old. Why, most girls are getting married at fifteen, or even sixteen at the latest. I want to have some great nieces and nephews before I die.”
Henry brought her hand to rest on his arm and patted it, knowing that his aunt could be exasperating. “And you will. The earl just wants to keep his daughter a little longer. You cannot begrudge him that considering the fact that she is all the family he has left.”
Changing the subject, the baroness said, “I find it unexpected that the Duke of Witherton came to our church today. I did not even know he attended church while he was in London, let alone when he is on holiday.”
Margaret felt Henry’s whole body stiffen at the mention of the duke. “I am sure the motives for his time here are nothing but deceitful and vile,” Henry warned them.
The baroness raised an eyebrow and scolded benignly, “Henry, you should not talk about someone of his importance that way.”
“Aunt Helen, I have much more history with him than I care to discuss, and believe me when I say that he has nothing in his character that is motivated by anything other than revenge and vindictiveness.”
“I saw how the duke conducted himself at the ball last night, and I think he might be here looking for a bride,” the baroness predicted. “You better keep your eye on this one, Henry, before someone swoops in and takes her off your hands.”
Averting her eyes so that neither Henry nor his aunt could see her reaction to her statement, Margaret knew she should be offended by what Baroness Wollingleer was saying. But if she allowed herself to admit how she truly felt, she was intoxicated by the idea that Richard might be contemplating finding a bride.
After getting her emotions under control, Margaret looked up and casually glanced around, trying to locate the duke.
“Whatever his motives for visiting, I am certain he will be returning to London shortly and we will no longer have to tolerate his presence,” Henry said with eager anticipation.
Margaret’s heart lurched. She had not thought about that. How would she feel when Richard returned to London and she never saw him again? She wanted to deny that it would impact her. As Margaret looked to the side to mask her confused feelings, she saw Richard slowly approaching. Their eyes met and lingered for a split second before he walked past her, and she knew in that instant that she would be devastated if she never saw him again.
But by the time Margaret was able to free herself from Henry’s constant presence and search for Richard at the church, it was too late. He had left before she even made it outside. It agitated her that she had not gotten a chance to speak with him, but she kept it masked, knowing that no one would understand.
Chapter
4
Hoping to take her mind off the man who should not be consuming her thoughts, Margaret decided to go for a ride.
Since she cared more about her horses than anything else, Margaret did not conform to the traditional attire a lady wore when riding unless she was with other people from the ton. If she were on her own, she would wear slacks and a blouse and use a standard saddle as opposed to a sidesaddle.
When she had requested her dressmaker to custom design several sets of pants and tops for her riding outfits, he had looked at her like she was foolish. She had to talk him into making them by offering a sizeable payment and explaining that she would only wear the outfits when she was working alone with the horses and no one else would ever see her in them or know he made them for her. Reluctantly, he agreed, but she knew he did not approve.
Today, she was wearing beige slacks with a pale yellow blouse adorned with her mother’s cameo, and her hair was pinned up in a French twist.
“Good morning, my darling. How are you today?” she lovingly asked her horse. She felt more comfortable with horses than she did most humans.
Charlie neighed in response and then nuzzled into the curve of her neck. In response, she wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck and said, “Thank you for the kiss. You are such a sweet girl. And I have just the treat for you.”
Margaret pulled out a lump of sugar from her pocket that she had taken from the kitchen when Cook had not been looking.
Nickering in anticipation, Charlie watched as Margaret put her hand out palm open with the sugar cube sitting temptingly on top. Charlie quickly nibbled up the treat and stomped her hoof in approval.
“I think this morning we will take the back paths towards Burlingler Estate. We’ve never been in that area, girl, and I feel like exploring.”
“My lady, you almost forgot your riding crop,” Sarah said as she tried to catch her breath after hurrying to catch up.