Something snapped inside Margaret as she stared at her father. It was a feeling rather like being plunged into ice cold water. Shaking, she released Alexandra’s hand and stepped toward her father, finding a loud voice that she had not used with her father in a long time.
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” At her loud voice, Penelope cowered back in her chair and Louisa stared, open mouthed. “I only ever did what was right. I tried to be a wife to him, and Theodore didn’t want that. He didn’t want me. That is hardly my fault, is it?”
Her father opened his lips to say something, but she raised her hand, cutting him off.
“You are my father,” she snapped. “For a change, just for once in your life, would you try and be on my side instead of making me into your enemy? Because I never have been your enemy, Father. Never! I’ve been disappointed in you. Gutted because of you, but I have always wanted you to be the loving father I remember you being when I was a child.”
“Margaret –” He stood to his feet.
“Don’t reprimand me now. I could not bear it.” She broke off, her breath hitching sharply as the tears she had vowed not to let fall suddenly came.
Feeling small in that room full of her family, she hid her face in her hands. When a pair of arms enclosed around her shoulders, she presumed it must have been Alexandra, until she realized itwas not someone shorter than her, but taller than her. She lifted her head, amazed to see that it was James.
Her own father was hugging her tightly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Margaret sipped her second cup of tea as she sat in the drawing room, still shaking. James was by her side, as Louisa sat on her other side. Alexandra and Penelope sat opposite her, talking through what must be done.
Margaret had been shocked by the turn of events that had taken place in that room. James had taken command, requesting tea be sent to the room as her sisters hugged Margaret, too. When the maid had offered James his usual brandy, he had turned it down, insisting he would share tea with his daughters.
“What can be done?” Penelope said, somewhat wildly as she shook her head, her own trembling fingers clutching the teacup tightly. “If he has gone…”
“If he truly has gone,” James halted just long enough to sigh as he looked at Margaret, “then nothing can be done, I suppose. Have you tried writing to him?”
“He didn’t even tell me where he has gone,” Margaret explained to her father.
James looked crushed at this news. He sat back in his chair, his spine slumping.
“What husband does that?” he whispered incredulously.
Margaret blinked as she stared at her father for a minute. These few words gave an insight into James’ mind that she had not considered for a while.
She did indeed remember James being a good father. It was the day they had lost her mother that much had changed.
He gave everything to her. His gambling, his drinking, it has been his way of coping ever since, hasn’t it?
“I am disappointed in him,” James muttered, speaking more to himself than to her at all. “I thought when he proposed after your scandal, he was a man with a sense of duty.”
“Hmm.” Alexandra shook her head. “The more I see of the world, the more I think men’s sense of duty changes with the wind.”
“Perhaps.” James nodded, clearly reluctantly.
“What can be done now then?” Penelope asked, blinking madly.
Margaret stuffed her handkerchief back into the sleeve of her dress, determined not to let anymore tears fall.
“I do not believe there is anything to be done,” Margaret said quietly. “Theodore said plainly when he left that he was a man without a heart. How can such a man be prevailed upon?”
James shook his head with plain disappointment.
“If he is made of stone, nothing can be done,” he said with a sigh.
Margaret thought his choice of words was interesting. A man made of stone, it was very similar to words that Theodore had used to describe himself.
“We must look to your own life instead, Margaret.” James turned to look at her.
“How do you mean?”
