Caroline pulled away her hand and stood, as did Annabelle, obviously surprised at the announcement. “I should’ve realized that’s what you were thinking. No wonder you haven’t shown interest in anyone before now.”
“We help with Father, too.” Annabelle frowned as if confused.
“You both do,” Margaret reassured them. “As do Aberland and Thomas. But it’s not the same as when you lived at home. You’re not here when he has a poor night or a problem during the day. When Barclay shared that he intended to retire—”
“You were certain you could never marry,” Caroline finished for her. “I’m so sorry, Margaret. We never meant for you to feel that way.”
“Of course, you didn’t. It’s not your fault. It’s just how circumstances have played out. And I was fine with my decision. Until...” Her voice trailed off as she struggled to describe how she felt.
“Until you came to better know Lord Wynn.” Annabelle nodded as if she understood. “It’s so odd, but I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I found him incredibly irksome at first,” Margaret admitted.
Annabelle chuckled as she shared a look with Caroline. “I should’ve known that would change. After all, I used to find Thomas irksome as well.”
“You both might remember how dismayed I was to find myself betrothed to Richard.” Caroline sighed. “Mother would be appalled to hear that you intended to remain a spinster solely to help care for Father.”
“Don’t tell her.” Margaret didn’t want her to worry more than she already did.
“But that’s no longer the case, correct?” Annabelle glanced between them. “Not now that you and Lord Wynn care for each other.”
Margaret shook her head. “By now, he is most likely betrothed to Lady Dorothy. All is lost.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat. She’d already shed enough tears over it.
“But what if it isn’t?” Caroline’s lips twisted as she considered the matter. “There has been no announcement to my knowledge.”
“Then you must do all you can to prevent it,” Annabelle advised. “Pursue the outcome you want. Pursue Lord Wynn.”
“How?” Frustration filled Margaret. “What could I possibly do to change the situation?” Yet the image of Lady Minerva’s sly smile came to mind. “Unless...”
“What is it?” Caroline asked.
“Did you notice Lady Minerva, Dorothy’s younger sister, that night?” Margaret held Caroline’s gaze as an idea began to form.
“I can’t say that I did.”
“She knew exactly what her sister was doing. Which makes me think the entire incident was planned. Lady Caldwell must’ve arrived at the proper moment with Lady Thompson at her side—thanks to Lady Minerva watching the situation unfold and alerting her mother.”
“Even if that’s true, and I suspect it is, what can be done about it?” Caroline asked.
“Confront them.” Annabelle’s eyes blazed with excitement.
“This is not one of your novels where you can manipulate the characters as you see fit,” Caroline pointed out dryly.
“Isn’t it?” Annabelle raised a brow as she held Margaret’s gaze.
“If I found a way to speak with Lady Minerva on her own, I might be able to wring a confession from her.” Margaret liked to think she was clever enough to do so.
“Then what?” Caroline shook her head, obviously exasperated with the pair of them.
“Then I’ll do the same with Lady Dorothy,” Margaret replied. “Once they both realize I know, perhaps I can convince them to tell the truth.”
“Yes!” Annabelle clasped her hands together. “Love is worth fighting for.”
“The entire ploy could’ve all been done at Lady Caldwell’s bidding,” Caroline cautioned them.
“True,” Margaret admitted. “In which case, convincing either of her daughters to confess will not only be a challenge but might gain us nothing.”
“This will not be easy.” Caroline scowled as she stared across the room as if considering the possibilities. “It will not reflect well on their family if this ploy is revealed.”
Margaret didn’t care about any of that. She only wanted a chance to be with Edward.
“The greatest rewards come from the greatest risks,” Annabelle declared.
“Isn’t that a line from one of your novels?” Caroline asked.
“I know exactly what needs to be done.” All three daughters turned to see their mother standing in the doorway.
“Mother?” Margaret’s stomach tightened at the determined look on her face. Had she heard everything they’d said? “I—”
Lady Gold lifted a finger to halt her explanation. “It will require all of us to act in accord.” She walked closer, glancing at the clock. “There’s not a moment to lose. We shall leave as soon as we’re finished with the Dawsons. Here’s what we must do.”
~*~
Edward sighed as he alighted from the carriage at Caldwell House in Mayfair, his stomach churning with dread. The sun was warm on his shoulders but did little to thaw the frigid sensation that encased him. His wish for a different outcome had gone unanswered, and he could wait no longer.
He intended to speak with the Marquess of Caldwell and offer for Lady Dorothy. His father would be delighted if he knew that despite Edward’s plan to marry Margaret, it seemed he would be marrying an heiress after all. The thought of his father angered him. Why couldn’t he seem to step out of the shadow of his expectations?
Although there was a narrow chance Lord Caldwell would tell him such a step wasn’t necessary, Edward was realistic enough to know that was unlikely.
He hadn’t been able to bring himself to send word to Margaret as to his intentions as he didn’t know what to say. Words failed him. She had been witness to the entire affair and knew what was expected of him, given the situation. He hoped she realized nothing had happened, yet the disappointment etched in her expression when she’d taken in the scene at the Thompson Ball caused him to worry.
While he would have to make the best of the circumstances, he had yet to wrap his thoughts—or rather, his heart—around that. For now, all he could manage was to place one foot in front of the other which brought him to the door. In short order, he waited in the entrance hall to see if the marquess was receiving.
The faint sound of feminine voices drifted toward him from somewhere in the house, but he turned away as he had no desire to see or speak with Lady Dorothy.
When the butler returned to escort him to the marquess’s study, Edward forced himself to follow, but his heart was with Margaret. Was there anything he could do to encourage Lady Dorothy to tell her mother and father the truth?
~*~
Margaret watched in awe as her mother directed the conversation in the Marchioness of Caldwell’s drawing room. She hadn’t seen this steely side of her mother since her youth when she and her sisters had caused trouble on occasion.
Though they’d been advised the marchioness wasn’t receiving when they’d called, the arrival of Lady Thompson, who’d met them here at her mother’s request, changed that. Her mother wanted the hostess of the ball to hear firsthand any news they managed to gain and had whispered a brief version of the plan to her while they’d waited.
Both Lady Dorothy and Lady Minerva joined them but had yet to look at any of the guests, their gaze seemingly stuck to the floor. It was enough to make Margaret say a silent prayer for patience.
“Isn’t it a lovely afternoon?” Caroline asked, exactly as their mother had requested during the carriage ride. “Would it be too much to ask to see your garden? I would enjoy a breath of fresh air.”
“Of course,” Lady Caldwell agreed as she sent a wary glance at Lady Thompson then stood. It was as if she waited for Lady Thompson to ask what the outcome of the situation at the ball had been but wasn’t brave enough to offer it. “A stroll would be refreshing.”
Margaret inserted herself between Minerva and Dorothy as they exited the drawing room and
by the time they reached the stairs to descend to the entrance hall, she’d managed to pair herself with Minerva while Caroline did the same with Dorothy as they had planned. Annabelle followed behind them at a slower pace, separating the daughters from the watchful eye of their mother also as planned.
“Do you enjoy the garden?” Margaret asked Minerva, unable to think of any other neutral topic.
“I suppose,” the young lady murmured even as she glanced over her shoulder as if in search of her mother.
“I find there’s nothing more relaxing than strolling among flowers,” Margaret added. “Don’t you agree?”
“Certainly.”
By the time they were in the garden, Margaret and Minerva were several feet ahead of the others. Margaret dearly hoped Caroline would have success with Dorothy, but her focus was on Minerva.
“What a terrible situation your sister found herself in the other evening,” Margaret began.
“Yes. Terrible.” A guilty look flashed across the lady’s face.
“It was quite warm in the ballroom. It’s a wonder other ladies weren’t feeling faint.” Margaret kept her voice low as she paused to admire a blooming rosebush below a bank of open windows then turned to face Minerva. The lady’s back was to the others though they were only a few feet away. “I noticed your expression as we stood on the terrace. You didn’t seem the least concerned or even surprised by the events.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” The caution in her wide blue eyes made Margaret hopeful.
“Oh, I think you do. In fact, I believe you played a role in the situation. That must’ve been quite exciting.” It took all of Margaret’s focus to keep blame from her tone.
A sly smirk, much like the one she’d had the night of the ball, twisted Minerva’s lips before quickly disappearing. “Exciting?”
“Like something out of a romantic novel, where you were able to help your sister catch the gentleman she longed for. So clever.” Margaret glanced past Minerva’s shoulder to see Caroline conversing with Dorothy in hushed tones a few feet away. She hoped her sister’s efforts to force a confession were proceeding better than her own.
“I hardly think my sister feeling unwell at a ball could be considered clever.”
“Come now. You’re being modest.” Margaret watched as Lady Thompson moved to stand between her and Caroline under the guise of looking at a flower, just as Lady Gold had suggested. If either Margaret or Caroline was able to gain a confession, hopefully, Lady Thompson would witness it. Margaret leaned close to Minerva, holding her gaze and doing her best to lend admiration to her tone. “Was it your idea or Lady Dorothy’s?”
“What idea?” Minerva bit her lip even as what appeared to be a gleam of pride shined in her eyes.
Margaret clenched her fist to keep from shaking the truth from her. Annabelle had suggested she use flattery, so Margaret continued along that path. “I have to think it was yours. You seem as if you’d be much better at strategy. You must be an excellent chess player. Where would your sister be without your help? My guess is that you not only came up with the idea but helped orchestrate it as well.”
She forced herself to smile when Minerva remained silent. Then Margaret leaned closer as if to share a secret. “I have not one but two older sisters. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve had to prod them along. For their own good, of course.”
A genuine smile escaped Minerva at last. “I can only imagine. There are times when I have to spell out the details of a plan when they are perfectly obvious to me.”
“Yes. Exactly.” Margaret chuckled. “You probably had to tell your sister what to say and do and when to do it.”
The lady gave a modest one-shouldered shrug. “I may have made a suggestion or two.”
“You’re too humble. Though it doesn’t seem as if your sister is particularly happy. Do you think she’s having regrets?”
Minerva turned to look over her shoulder at her sister. “In truth, I don’t understand it. She told me just this morning that she hoped he wouldn’t propose and the whole affair fades from everyone’s memories. She insists the attention it’s caused has proven too much. Can you believe it? After all our efforts.”
“Efforts?” Lady Thompson asked, one brow raised as she stepped closer. “Whatever do you mean?”
Minerva’s eyes went wide then she pivoted in alarm to face her sister.
“You told?” Dorothy released a gasp of outrage as she stared at Minerva. “Did you also share that it was your idea?”
“What was?” Lady Thompson persisted.
“Girls,” Lady Caldwell called as she moved forward only to pause when Margaret’s mother touched her arm.
“Allow them to speak,” Lady Gold advised. “It is best if we sort this out now, don’t you think?” Though it was a question, her tone brooked no argument. “That way it can be kept private.”
“What choice did I have?” Dorothy asked tearfully as she faced them. “It was clear Lord Wynn’s interest was waning. I told Minerva I couldn’t stand to lose him.”
“I thought to give them a moment of privacy. That is all,” Minerva protested. The guilt on her face suggested otherwise. “How was I to guess he might be forced to propose? Although he has yet to do so.”
“Dorothy. Minerva.” The stern male tone caused the ladies to stiffen as they looked to where the Marquess of Caldwell stared out the open window of what appeared to be his study. “I would speak with you both. At once.”
As Margaret stared at the angry lord, she caught movement behind his shoulder and realized Edward stood directly behind him. Her heart leapt at the sight of him.
Then chaos ensued with everyone speaking at once.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Edward followed the butler down the corridor to Sir Reginald Gold's library later that afternoon. He wasn't about to let another day pass without making his intentions with Margaret clear.
The past few hours had taken an unexpected turn, but he couldn’t have been more thrilled with the outcome. Just as he’d been in the awkward but necessary position of asking the Marquess of Caldwell to question his daughter about what had happened on the terrace at the Thompson Ball, and while the lord was sputtering that she couldn’t possibly have misled him, the voices in the garden had clarified everything.
To think that he and Margaret had both been doing what they could to force the truth to come out warmed him from head to toe. If that didn’t prove they belonged together, he didn’t know what did.
Though he wasn't certain what to expect about the upcoming meeting given what he knew about Margaret’s father, he was eager to have the formality done and over. He couldn't wait to begin planning his life with her.
To his surprise and delight, Margaret sat in the chair before her father's desk. Both stood when the elderly butler announced him. The smile Margaret gave the butler was undeniable, and Edward turned to see a matching grin on the servant’s face. “Best of luck to you, my lord,” he whispered.
Edward nodded his thanks then strode into the library. “Good afternoon, Sir Reginald. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A shock of unruly white hair was the only sign that not all was as it should be with Sir Reginald. Otherwise, he looked fit and healthy, his gaze sharp as he studied Edward.
“My daughter has told me much about you.” He glanced at Margaret as if seeking approval.
Margaret gave the barest of nods that few would notice. Edward’s admiration for her grew at what an amazing daughter she was. It only made him more eager to make her his.
“I have had the pleasure of coming to know Miss Gold of late,” Edward continued though his gaze shifted to Margaret. “I confess that I have fallen deeply in love with her.”
Joy mingled with surprise on her face, sending an answering wave of emotion rolling through him.
He forced his attention back to Sir Reginald. “I would ask permission for her hand in marriage, sir.”
Sir Reginald held his gaze for the
longest moment until Edward feared he intended to refuse. Then he looked at his daughter once more. “Margaret?”
“I love Lord Wynn with all that I am,” Margaret said, her gaze on Edward. “I should very much like the honor of marrying him.”
“Truly?” Sir Reginald studied Edward as if surprised by her answer. “If you're sure...”
“I am.” Margaret nodded, a smile lighting her face along with Edward’s heart.
“Congratulations to you both,” a feminine voice said.
Edward turned to see Lady Gold enter the room. She hugged her daughter before taking Edward’s hand. “I am so happy for the two of you and pleased circumstances changed to allow this. Welcome to the family, Lord Wynn.”
“Thank you,” Edward replied, the warmth in Lady Gold’s tone made him smile.
“We will give the two of you a few minutes of privacy,” Lady Gold said then hugged her daughter once more before moving to take her husband’s hand. “Let us take a stroll in the garden. I think the peonies are in bloom.”
Sir Reginald frowned. “I haven’t shown him the sheep painting yet.”
“Later, my dear. We’ll be seeing much more of Lord Wynn.” Their voices faded as they left the room, leaving Edward and Margaret alone.
“The sheep painting?” Edward asked.
Margaret shook her head, still smiling. “It’s a long story for another time.”
“I look forward to hearing it. Now then.” He stepped close to take her hands in his, then dropped to one knee. “Margaret Gold—”
“Yes!” She chuckled and pulled at his hands, urging him to rise.
“I haven’t asked yet.” He remained where he was, determined to do this properly. He wanted this moment to be one they would both cherish. “I love you with all that I am. You are honest and forthright. Kind and intelligent. A loving, devoted friend, daughter, and sister. And most importantly, a beautiful woman who holds my heart. You have made me realize life isn’t just about money and holdings. It’s happiness and family that truly make a person wealthy. Will you marry me?”
A Rogue Meets His Match (The Rogue Chronicles Book 7) Page 22