Margaret looked back at the house deep in thought. When she first arrived at this house, it most certainly hadn’t felt like a happy home. Yet she had cheered the place up. The fresh décor and the people had made it feel warm and inviting. Over the last week though, the only happiness in this house came from her sisters and the staff.
Theodore was like a dark shadow in the corner, refusing to partake in any of that happiness.
“How are you feeling?” Margaret turned to Evelina and took her hand once again, helping her into the carriage.
“The nausea has settled now. It often gets me worse in the morning. I will be well.” She smiled with assurance as she sat int eh carriage beside Louisa who took her hand. “I shall drop our sisters home then return home myself. Gabriel will take good care of me.”
Margaret forced a smile.
An image flitted across her mind. It was of the day Theodore had caught her when she had fallen from that ladder, then ensured she had eaten. She imagined after their argument the other day, he would never show any amount of care toward her again.
“Father will ask about this visit,” Alexandra mused in thought, making all smiles drop around them as Margaret shifted where she stood in the doorway of the carriage. “What shall we tell him?”
“Tell him the truth.”
“I mean, when he asks about money… if we have brought anything home for him, what shall we say?” Alexandra asked.
Margaret’s stomach stiffened.
“Any money I give to you now, will be going to you. It will not be going to our father. If he asks, just tell him that Theodore has insisted we don’t give him any more money. He will not question it if it is a duke’s decision rather than my own.”
Alexandra nodded in understanding. Evelina must have seen something more in Margaret’s expression, something she was trying to hide, for she reached forward and took Margaret’s hand, squeezing softly.
“We’ll see you soon.”
“Yes, very soon,” Margaret assured Evelina. “Safe journey home.” She released her sister and closed the carriage door, then hurried back to the front stoop.
Though the snow was melting, the air was cold, prompting her to run her hands over her arms, trying to get rid of her goosebumps. As the carriage pulled down the drive, her sisters leaned forward and waved at her in parting.
I had been happy when they were here.
The thought that the happiness was leaving with them made her stand for much longer on the step than she had intended to. In the end, her breath clouded the air, and the only thing that made her stir was a fur pelisse being dropped on her shoulders.
She turned to see Betsy behind her.
“I didn’t want you to be cold, Your Grace.”
“You are most kind, Betsy.” Margaret smiled at her softly. “Could I have some tea please?”
“Yes, of course.” Betsy beckoned her inside. “Shall I set you up in the sitting room?”
Margaret shook her head. The sitting room she now associated with the happy air of her sisters.
“No, in the small parlor please.” She knew that Theodore never went in there. There would be no chance of running into him in that part of the house.
As Betsy hurried off to prepare the tea, Margaret hesitated in the hallway of the house. On the hall table rested a letter which had already been opened, the red wax seal half torn open.
Margaret lifted the letter up from it rested, turning it over to recognize the name of Cedric Pembroke, the Earl of St Vincent.
The letter was an invitation to both Theodore and Margaret, welcoming them to a Christmas dinner party at his London home. Margaret frowned at the letter. From how it had been discarded on the hall table, she presumed that Theodore had no time for the letter.
Confused, for Cedric was both his cousin and his friend, Margaret walked straight toward the study, thinking the better of her decision to avoid Theodore. She walked straight into the room, not bothering to knock.
Behind the desk, Theodore lowered the account books he had been reading. He was clearly shocked to see her, for he sat bolt upright at once, nearly dropping the account book.
“You left this in the hallway.” She held up the letter, not bothering to talk to him with any nicety or common courtesy. After all, he had made it plain he had no heart when talking to her. Why should she show any heart when she was talking to him? “Will we be going?”
“No.” Theodore picked up his book again, holding it so high that it blocked his face.
