Mrs. Lancaster and the rest of the staff had outdone themselves once again. Margaret sat at a beautifully laid table, with all thefood in the world she could desire. There were also carafes of claret and port for her to choose from, and yet for all that money had bought her here, she wasn’t happy.
I’m lonely.
With this thought, Margaret slumped into her chair. The poor gown she had changed into for dinner was itchy. It made her scratch her arms in frustration, but it had been a hand-me-down from Evelina and though the color was not as bold as it had once been, it was a fine enough gown to change into for dinner.
“Though there is none here to see it,” she muttered to herself.
Once more, she stared at the empty seat at the head of the table. Theodore had done his duty for the day. He had, after all, spent breakfast with her, as per their agreement. Yet Margaret found herself debating whether she could encroach on his time during dinner as well, so she could have some company.
She finished serving up her plate, piling it high with chicken and vegetables, then poured herself a glass of wine and stood.
As she stepped out of the dining room, Betsy stood nearby, curtseying hurriedly.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Your Grace?”
“No. Thank you, Betsy. You are all looking after me very well indeed. It’s just…” Margaret hesitated. “I’d like to find my husband.”
Betsy smiled rather sadly. The excitement Betsy had shown on Margaret’s first night in this house was now long dulled. Margaret thought that just like Mrs. Lancaster, Betsy had at last realized the marriage was not one of love. Not even of friendship.
“I believe he is in his study. Yates just took him another carafe of wine.”
“Thank you.” Margaret smiled and walked toward his study.
When she reached the door, she tapped lightly.
“Yes?” a voice answered.
Margaret opened the door with some difficulty as her hands were full, then stood in the opening, waiting for Theodore to look at her. He was both eating and working on something, writing notes with a quill pen. When she said nothing, he looked up, hesitating as his eyes met hers.
“Please may I sit with you?” she asked. It was a far cry from the boldness with which she had strode into this room on her first day here, but she didn’t want to be ousted.
“You wish to just sit?” He raised his eyebrows, dubiously.
“Perhaps I want a little companionship.” She shifted her weight between her feet. “Is that so wrong?”
A sad sort of smile reached his lips. It rather transformed his countenance. For a minute, he was not the cold and alabaster stone version of himself. He was human, even a little… vulnerable.
“No. There is nothing wrong in that.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.
Smiling in relief, Margaret hurried into the room. She rested her wine on the desk and sat with her dinner on her lap, watching as he both worked and ate. He adjusted the candles nearby a few times, the better to throw light onto his account books.
“The accounts?” she whispered. “I hope I have not bankrupted us with all my changes?” She attempted a jest, rather relieved when she saw another smile tweak his lips, temptingly. “It is perfectly acceptable to smile you know, Theo. You don’t have to be like stone all the time.”
He raised his eyebrows once again in silent question. That smile didn’t drop completely.
“I could say you had.” Yet he seemed to be adding up more numbers just the same. “Worry not. I am perfectly financially stable. I have more plans for the business, too. More business partners I can invest in.”
“Business partners?” she whispered. “You talked before about wanting to improve your reputation in business. To seem more… trustworthy.” She chose her words carefully.
“Old sins cast long shadows, as they say,” he sighed. “They are not my sins.” He added hastily, looking up from the books. “But yet, I need to improve what my name means in the world of business in trading if I am to continue to thrive.”
“So, I can continue to make changes to the house? Money is not a concern?”
“Money is not a concern. Though if you start changing the brickwork, I will have something to say.”
“Was that a jest? Are you making jokes now?” Margaret felt strangely excited. It was odd, to be here in Theodore’s rooms in the evening, with a sort of warm air between them.
“I make them every now and then.” He laid down his quill pen and returned to his food. “We’ll be leaving for Covent Garden early in the morning.”
