by Jenna Brandt
“Thank you, Sarah.”
“Are you sure, my lady, that you want to ride by yourself? You know I have not been feeling well lately, but I will come along if you need me.”
“It is not necessary.”
“Yes, my lady, but I fear that it would look terribly improper if someone were to find you riding by yourself. Do you want me to get one of your other personal servants to accompany you so that we can avoid any gossip?”
“Oh bother. I know all about the ton’s rules and standards and how the titled are supposed to act, but that does not mean that I agree with it.”
With that, she mounted Charlie and looked at Sarah for a moment, smiling mischievously. Then flippantly, she quipped, “Besides, how much trouble could I really get into?”
“Mistress, do not do anything rash. Your father will have my hide if anything happens to you.” Then, almost as an afterthought, Sarah quickly added, “Or worse, you will create a scandal.”
“Sarah, you know quite well that scandals do not happen in the country. And for good reason, as there is no one around to witness one being made.” And with that, she galloped off towards Burlingler Estate.
It was getting dark and Margaret was getting nervous. She should have been home hours ago. She would not be surprised if her father already had the servants out searching the area for her.
Afraid of the verbal thrashing she knew she would get when she got home, Margaret shuddered. That was all she needed on top of being scared out of her wits. The forest was so thick next to Burlingler Estate that she was lost before she even knew what was happening.
Looking around, Margaret saw a fallen tree nearby. Making her way over to it, she realized it would be as good a place as any to stop for a moment so that Charlie could take a rest. She too needed one, come to think of it.
“It is all right, Charlie. We will find our way home. It is only a matter of getting our bearings.” She had said the words to her horse, but realized that she needed to hear them as well.
She had been trying to get her bearings for the last three hours with no luck at all. She was beginning to think it hopeless. But she was not going to give up, and she was not going to give in to the tears that now threatened to escape her carefully controlled demeanor.
Of course, no one was around to see her cry anyway, so what did it matter? How long had it been since she had cried? She thought about it a moment. Then it came to her without her really wanting to remember.
The last time she had cried had been at her brother’s memorial. It had been the most difficult day of her life. She had wanted to die as well when they had been informed that her twin brother, Randall, had perished at sea. When they lost Randall, it felt like a part of her had died with him.
She still remembered the denial she went through when the letter had arrived. She insisted that it was not his ship that had sank in a storm but another one like it. He was still going to arrive from boarding school in a few days just like it had been planned. She was going to see him again and place her arms around him and tell him how much she loved him. They would be able to play outside together under the lavender trees and run down to the swimming hole by the river. But those times were never to come again.
“Margaret, dear, you need to rest. Stop waiting by the windowsill for him to return. He is not coming back, and no amount of hoping or wishing is going to change that.”
“You are wrong, Father! He is coming home! I can feel it. If he were truly dead, I would know it.” She tapped her chest where her heart lay beneath. “I would feel it!”
She had held onto that belief, and that was what had kept her from losing her mind. She would not let go of the belief that he was coming home to her. Then the day of the memorial came and all the perfect control she had built up around her came crashing down.
“This is wrong, Father! We cannot be here conducting this service because he is not dead! We are doing something that is absurd and silly. He is going to be coming home any day now and—”
“Daughter, that is quite enough. You are going to stop this right now! Randall is dead, and nothing is going to change that. Let him go. You have to, for the both of us, or we will never get past this.”
“You are right. I will never get past this—until he returns to me. And he will! Just you wait, Father. You will see that I am right.”
“Margaret, I did not want to have to tell you this, but they found his shirt with his initials on it where the ship sank.”
“So, what does that prove? He probably removed it so he could swim faster to safety.” Denial had always come easy to her. When caught in lies when younger, she had denied until her face turned blue that she had anything to do with her and her brother’s many antics.
“It was torn up and bloody. The magistrate said that he was quite certain it was his blood and that he was forcibly removed from it by….”
Margaret did not need for him to finish the sentence. She quickly was able to grasp what had happened. They’d believed her twin brother had been attacked by sharks.
“No…. No! He is not dead! He cannot be. I need him so badly,” she said in a whimper as she crumpled to the ground in a heaving sob.
In that moment, what had been left of her resolve crumbled. Only the haunting image of her brother being torn apart by sharks as he screamed for help echoed in the back of her mind.
She had nothing to hold on to anymore, and she knew it. The tears came down quickly and harshly, one on top of the other, leaving streaks and trails behind. She did not bother to wipe them away but instead reveled in them—her final connection to the only person who truly understood her and loved her despite all her impish ways.
Realizing over time, she would never forget him as long as she mourned him, she chose never to cry again. She considered her tears a bond between them, and she never wanted to share that bond with anyone else.
But despite her firm determination not to shed tears, she was on the brink of crying.
She sat on the log and hid her face in her hands. What was she going to do? She was frightened and truly had no clue as how to get home.
“What are you doing on Burlingler Estate?” someone said from the shadows.
Startled, she yanked her head up. “Who is there?”
“I should be asking the questions since you happen to be on my land.”
She was such a fool. And to think that she had thought it could not get worse. Now she had run into the new owner of Burlingler Estate, and she was trespassing on his property.
Since she overheard the servants discuss how the new owner had recently come to take ownership, she should have known it was a possibility he would be surveying his property. No one knew who he was, but everyone desperately wanted to find out. Now she was going to be the first, but under the worst possible circumstances. Not only was she intruding on his privacy, but she also looked horrible and was without a chaperone. What a nasty scandal this was going to cause!
“If you will forgive me, my lord, I did not mean to intrude.”
“Do not lie. If you had not meant to trespass, you would not be here. You fully knew what you were about when you decided to come onto my land.”
“I beg your pardon, sir, but I only came here because I have always heard how beautiful it is, and I felt that I would not be disturbing anyone. Please forgive me if I have inconvenienced you.” She stood and made her way over to Charlie. “I will be on my way now.”
Turning her back to the stranger, she prepared to mount Charlie when a hand grasped her upper arm. She gasped at the infringement on her personal space and froze, going rigid with fright.
Then suddenly, the voice changed somehow and became familiar, saying, “On the contrary, I find it charming that you decided to come visit my land, although next time, you must come visit me at my home instead of getting lost in the woods.”
Whirling around, she found herself inches from the Duke of Witherton. “Your Grace, you startled me.” She took in his good looks and tried to hi
de the effect he had on her. He looked magnificent in his chocolate brown slacks and hunter green jacket, and because his curly brown hair was slightly tousled, she wondered if he had just been riding a horse.
She added lamely, “I did not know that you were the new owner of Burlingler Estate.”
“Ah, yes, I am full of surprises, if you have not guessed already. This is just one of many.” He gestured to the surroundings. “I bought the estate just recently so that I could be closer to my… current interests,” he said as he looked at her pointedly.
Understanding his message quite clear, she proclaimed, “How wonderful, for now we are neighbors as well as dancing partners.”
“So, little one, you too remember last night quite well.”
She certainly did remember their time together. It was scorched into her soul. She had never felt like that before. He made her whole body quiver, and she knew she could not get enough of him.
But not wanting to let him know the truth, she said in deflection, “Yes, it was, after all, my sixteenth birthday.”
“And now you are a young woman.” He glanced down at her body evocatively. “Did I mention that you look quite fetching this afternoon? That riding outfit enhances your natural beauty perfectly, if that is at all possible.”
Not expecting to see anyone when she went riding, Margaret had put little thought into her outfit that day. Subconsciously, she patted at her soft brown and yellow outfit, trying to smooth out the wrinkles she knew must be present.
“Kind of you to flatter me, but I know I must appear a mess.”
“I find the sight of you tousled quite appealing.” She swallowed hard as he pulled her into his arms and whispered, “Everything about you makes me want more.”
Increasingly disturbed by the way he made her feel, Margaret sputtered, “I need to be on my way.” She pulled away from him reluctantly, part of her wanting him to pull her back into his arms.
She spun around and mounted Charlie, then started to move towards the way she had come.
“My lady, I hope you do not mind me pointing it out, but you are headed towards my home, not yours.” He smiled. “Not that I mind in the tiniest bit, but your father has the whole area looking for you.”
Turning to face him, she trotted Charlie up to where he stood. Then, with all the superior demeanor she did not feel but tried to muster up, she looked down at Richard with fake condescension and replied, “Thank you for informing me, Your Grace, but I was only getting Charlie warmed up before I headed this way.”
“Charlie… is not that the horse that the whole countryside is talking about, trying to get a glimpse?”
Sitting up even straighter in the saddle, she replied with satisfaction, “Yes, Charlotte’s Pride is my horse and many would like to possess her. She is going to be one of the best show horses in England once she has finished training.”
“You daresay? I heard that your family raise some of the finest horses in England. Of all of Europe, some say.”
With that, he whistled lightly, and at first, Margaret had no idea why. Then, from the concealment of the shadows, emerged the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. The stallion outshone even her own Charlie.
She took in a deep breath and held it. She stared at the tall, magnificent white horse for several moments and then let out her breath with a sharp gasp. She recognized the stallion from descriptions and paintings. It was one of the Arabian twins! She had heard the rumor that someone in England had bought both of them, but she had no idea who and no one could find out.
Secretly, she had dreamed of one of the twins siring a colt for Charlie because really, next to her own horses, the twins were the most sought-out and wanted bloodline in Europe. Surely, Richard could not be the new owner because she had never heard that the duke had an interest in horses, especially such a profound and deep interest as to warrant owning the Arabian twins.
“He is beautiful, is he not?”
Nodding in agreement, her eyes grew round in awe. She never thought she would see one of them up close like this. Without thinking, she dismounted and walked over to the famous horse. She reached out to touch him, then thought better of it and pulled her hand back.
“It is all right, you can touch him. He is actually a very gentle horse for all the bad press he has gotten. A lot of the papers have said that he has a horrible temper compared to his brother, but really, he is quite the charmer once you get to know him.”
She smiled to herself, catching the double meaning. He was describing himself through his horse. He too had been labeled in the papers as having a bad temper.
Perhaps they were wrong on both accounts. Richard did not seem to have any of the less-than-reputable traits that he had been dubbed with over the years. Maybe the papers just needed someone about which they could gossip.
But then a thought occurred that made her look from the horse to Richard with puzzlement. Reading her expression, he asked, “What is the matter? Did I say something to offend you?”
“No, it just the opposite. It surprises me that you have a love for horses. I have not really known anyone who has as great an interest in them as me.” She wanted to say more but finished awkwardly with, “It surprises me, that is all.”
“Admit it. What you are trying to say is that you have never met anyone like me, and I always astound you with something new.”
She tried to regard him seriously but smiled despite herself. “I will admit no such thing. You are insufferable, sir.”
“And you like that as well.” He touched the side of her face and turned it towards him. “I intrigue you because you know deep down that I am just like you.”
She could not pull away from his touch and, without realizing it, leaned into his hand.
Trying to deny their obvious connection, Margaret said, “That is absurd. We are nothing alike. We come from different worlds.”
“So you say, but do you truly think so? I believe that we are very much the same, from our love of horses to our wants and passions.” He looked at her with desire, driving home his meaning. “I know what I want.”
She began to shake slightly and they both felt it.
Apprehension began to take hold. She should not feel this way, not now and not for him. That was what her mind told her, but her heart wanted him to kiss her again. And not on her hand but on her lips this time. What would a real kiss feel like? Oh, how she ached to find out, but she knew it was wrong. She was betrothed to another man.
Quickly, she tore away from his hold on her. What was she doing? Why had she let him get so close? She had to get away from him.
If anyone caught her here like this with Richard, her reputation would be ruined, not to mention what it would do to Henry. Despite her physical attraction to the duke, she really did want to honor her family’s obligation and marry Henry. But if she kept running into the duke like this, how long before she ended up compromising everything she believed in?
Stepping back, she tried to get her ragged breath under control. She turned towards Charlie and mounted hurriedly, almost slipping in her rush. Then, without facing him, she stated, “I have to go. My father must be worried sick.”
He moved towards her and stopped next to Charlie’s side, putting his hand lightly on the calf of her leg. “Yes, you must hurry home to your father. Oh, and did I forget to mention the Viscount Rolantry is looking for you as well?” Then, with one of his cynical smiles, he added, “Or have you forgotten about him again?”
“No, I have not forgotten about my betrothed.” She started to head towards her home when, over her shoulder, she shouted, “Have a good evening, Your Grace, and do try to make it to our wedding.”
Margaret had tried to prepare herself for the upcoming questions from her father and Henry, telling herself not to get defensive or it would point directly to the fact that she was covering up some of the truth.
Henry rushed up to her and gently placed his hands on either side of her arms, asking, “Margaret, are you all rig
ht? We were worried sick about you!” She heard the concern in his tone, which made her guilt even harder to bear.
“Yes, Henry, I am fine. I got lost in the thicker part of the forest and I could not find my way home.”
“Why were you by yourself in the first place?”
“Yes, daughter, do explain why you had no attendant with you.”
“Father, I feel that you are making much of an issue out of this. I am sorry that I made you both worry, but as you can see, I am unharmed.”
“You are wrong. Your safety is a major issue. It has been too many times that you have put your safety and even life at risk, and this will be the last time. Until you are married to Henry, I am your guardian and you will not leave this estate without a proper chaperone or ride alone ever again!”
Her father looked at Henry and patted his shoulder. “Good luck, my son. You are going to need it in order to keep her under control.”
“Father, I am not a child! You cannot treat me like one.” But as she said the words, she realized her indignant tone made her sound exactly like one.
He turned to look at her. “When you act like one, you will be treated as such.” He walked over to a table, poured himself a cup of tea and took a drink, keeping the glass in his hand. Tea was the only drink that soothed her father since he had given up drinking after he had gotten married. He had told her that drinking was a vice one could afford when one was young, but a dignified man left foolish ways behind him when he started a family. To this day, she had never seen him partake in libations.
“Henry can do with you as he likes when you are his responsibility, but as long as you are mine, I will see to it that you are unable to participate in any more of your wild escapades.” With force, he slammed the glass down, splashing some of the contents over the rim. “I hope that you fully enjoyed this jaunt, because it will be your last!”
There was no point in arguing or denying anything. She knew that when her father got like this, there was no reasoning with him, and deep down, she knew it was really her own fault that she was in this predicament.