She leaned upon the door, considering knocking and begging entry, but at this time of night, she could wake him up. It was not like demanding entrance to his study. This was hisbedchamber.It was infinitely more of a personal invasion.
Turning her back on the door, Margaret reached for the other door in her chamber. Looking to escape, she strode out into the corridor. Without a candle, she used only the moonlight to navigate her way.
“Air. I need fresh air,” she muttered to herself, walking the length of the corridor to a distant door that she knew led out onto a balcony. The lock had the key inside. It was easy to turn, allowing her to fling open both doors and open them wide.
A great gust of cold wind met her face as she stepped out onto the balcony wearing just her chemise. Her bare feet met brick, though it still didn’t persuade her to return inside.
Her hands clung to the balcony railing as she stared out over the gardens.
Even in this pale white light, she could see the flower heads were fading now with the change of the seasons. The cold air was making them droop, some flowers blackening with the turn of autumn.
Margaret tried to focus on the garden, to think of nothing else but the flowers, yet she couldn’t help it. Soon enough, her thoughts were back on her sisters and the dream with the shadowy man come to hurt them all.
“I need to help them. I have to.”
“Help who?” Theo’s voice made her whirl around in shock.
He stood just a few steps behind her in the corridor, wearing only a loose shirt, trousers, and some boots he must have pulled on in a rush, though the laces were tied neatly.
Distracted by the flash of skin revealed at his neck, Margaret looked back out over the balcony and at the garden.
“Margaret, what on earth are you doing out here at this time of night?”
“I had a nightmare. That was all. I… I just needed some fresh air.”
“And you thought that the wisest thing to do would be to come and give yourself a chill? You’ll catch your death.” He shrugged something off his shoulder.
She had not paid attention to the black strip before, but she suddenly knew what it was as he laid it across her shoulders. It was a frock coat. His fingers brushed her arms as he wrapped her up in the coat.
“Thank you,” she murmured in surprise.
“Now, what was the nightmare?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Then why else am I standing out on my balcony at night in the freezing cold?” He turned and closed the door behind them, stopping the cold from bleeding anymore into the house, then he leaned beside her on the railing. “What was your nightmare?”
She stared at him in surprise. In this light, his blue eyes could have been silver. It was rather an intoxicating sight, especially when he was looking at her with such intensity.
Sighing, she looked away, out over the balcony.
“It was about my family.” She described how her sisters had been playing cards, and how the shadowy figure had attacked them all. “I couldn’t get to them. I couldn’t help them. Neither could they hear me. The glass, I could not break it.”
“I see.” He leaned on the railing with both forearms, like her now staring out across the garden. “Your father has a lot to answer for, doesn’t he?”
“Perhaps.” She nodded. “I’d like to help them.”
“They are always welcome here, any time. You know that, don’t you?”
“Thank you.” She smiled sadly. It was a kindness indeed, for him to welcome them into this house as if it were their own. Yet she knew it would only go so far to help them. How could she help her sisters escape the grip of their father forever? “You never did ask for a dowry for me, did you?”
“I was not so great a fool as to think there would be one. Also, such things didn’t matter. As you’ve seen, I have enough money. Our marriage was not about money.”
“I know.” Margaret nodded. “It was about reputation and a good name.” She sighed wearily.
“You going to tell me any more about this dream?”
“What do you mean?”
