by Sara Bennett
Margaret began to protest, but her mother spoke over her.
“I want you to explain to Lily when she comes. She is keen to help. I will go with her to Portobello, and I will be perfectly happy there, I assure you.”
“I will be happy too, staying here with you, and marrying Louis. I am useful here, Mother.”
“You are miserable. Don’t you think I can see it, during those times I am still able to see anything? You should agree to whatever your earl has asked of you, Margaret. He came here for you—”
“He didn’t! His great uncle—”
Her mother waved a hand dismissively. “He came here for you, Margaret. Let him make you happy. I know he wants to. Let yourself be happy.”
Margaret tried to gather together her arguments, because she knew it couldn’t be that easy. The earl was married already and if she agreed to what he wanted she would be living in sin. Not to mention creating a dreadful scandal.
Before she could explain her mother squeezed her hand again. “Even if you stay, I will lose you, Margaret.”
“No! I don’t want to lose you, Mother.” Margaret fought back tears.
“And yet … when my mind slips away, I truly believe I still carry you with me, somewhere deep inside. Always.”
They sat in poignant silence, until Margaret sighed. “Mother, I must tell you,” she began, but her words trailed away to a stop. Her mother looked vague, distant, and the sparkle had gone from her eyes. The fog had closed over her mind again.
12
“You’re up to something, Nic.”
The earl and his sister were strolling back to the White Boar. The air was icy but Dominic found it invigorating. He was about to make the biggest decision of his life and he still wasn’t certain if he was doing the right thing. Although Dominic had never been a man who doubted himself—at least not until he met Margaret—this wasn’t just his life he was tampering with. Yes, he had dabbled in the lives of others before, but never to such an extent as this.
“I’m sorry I brought you all the way up here, Sib.”
She gave him a curious look. “Why are you sorry? I’m not. I’ve had a marvellous time. It’s been like the old days for me. I know you have been trying to rehabilitate my reputation, but I fear I am a lost cause.”
He smiled down at her. “I’m not sure I would describe our stay as ‘marvellous’.”
“Not even with Margaret giving you those love struck looks over the luncheon table? And, I might add, you returning them.”
“On that note,” Dominic said sardonically, “was your giddy behaviour all pretend just now? That poor man is completely infatuated with you.”
“Louis really is very sweet,” Sibylla said with a sigh, not pretending she didn’t know who he was talking about. “Although I don’t think he and Margaret are at all suited for marriage. They are both far too willing to give up their own happiness for the sake of others. Budding saints, the pair of them. They’d probably begin to resent each other soon after the knot was tied.”
“Is that so?” He watched her in amused surprise. “Is that why you made the poor man fall in love with you just now?”
“I didn’t make him do anything! If I am being honest, it began as me trying to help you, Nic. I thought I could distract Louis so that you could concentrate on Margaret.”
“And now?”
She sighed again. “Do you think I would make a proper curate’s wife? Although, if I were to marry him, I would need to ensure he climbed the ladder quickly. Bishop in five years? Who knows what Louis could be with my help?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re right,” he said when he was able. “Trying to rehabilitate your reputation is a waste of time.”
She gave him a sideways smile. “You know that Margaret needs your help, too? As I had said, if the pair of them ever married they would be miserable. They need partners like us, brother, who can bully them into thinking of themselves rather than others. Some of the time, anyway. They are the sort of ‘good’ souls others prey on. Just look at that dreadful Lady Strangeways and the vicar. Margaret and Louis need our help, and I don’t think either of us should feel guilty about giving it.”
Dominic gave her an admiring glance, reaching out to open the door of the inn for her. “You are very good at justifying our actions. I approve. And I agree, I think.”
“So you should. Now tell me, have you worked your magic on Margaret yet? Is she ready to throw her lot in with you? I know something has happened, for you are in very good spirits, even if Margaret had a hunted expression on her face at luncheon. That is, when she wasn’t gazing at you with that love struck look.”
He gave a crack of laughter. Mrs Black looked up from dusting the mantelpiece in their private parlour, smiling a greeting. Dominic leaned close to his sister, lowering his voice. “I appreciate your help, Sib, I really do. But I have a plan of my own.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Do you? Actually, I don’t think you have a clue, Nic. Without my help you will never have your own happy ever after.”
He knew there was a reason he had missed having his sister by his side all these years. Despite their different life paths, up to now at least, they were very much alike. She understood him and he her.
“There is one thing I would ask of you,” he said innocently.
“What is that?”
“Keep an eye on Mrs Willoughby. I believe her sister will be arriving soon, but until then she is still at the mercy of her odious husband, and I fear Margaret would never forgive me if anything happened to her mother.”
Sibylla’s eyes narrowed. “Why can’t Margaret keep an eye on her? Ah, I knew you were planning something!” Then, with a snort of laughter, “I have underestimated you after all, haven’t I?”
“In my own bumbling way I have come up with a plan,” he said with fake modesty. “I’m not sure it is perfect, but I’m hoping it will work. It was always Margaret’s mother who was the sticking point.”
“What about living in disgrace?” Sibylla asked. “I can attest that it is not very nice to be the family scandal, although my skin is far thicker than Margaret’s.”
“Honestly? I don’t think she gives two hoots for being in disgrace. I am hoping that I can teach her to rather enjoy it.”
“Hmm. If anyone can, then it is you. Very well, I will stay here and keep an eye out for Mrs Willoughby.”
“Thank you, Sib,” he said quietly. “You are one of the few people who understands how much it means to me to have found my true mate at last.”
She squeezed his arm. “If anyone deserves happiness it is you. In the meantime, perhaps Louis will teach me how to be a perfect curate’s wife? Or should I ask him to elope?”
“Sib,” Dominic said with a frown, “don’t do anything too outrageous until I come back, will you?”
But she only smiled.
The next morning, Dominic visited his great uncle’s solicitor in Alnwick and finalized the details of the house and the monies he wanted to place in trust. He also dealt with several other matters, including a tidy sum he donated to the Denwick church to help with its repairs. He didn’t expect the vicar would ever like him, just as he would never like the vicar, but he was Margaret’s father.
Sibylla was over at the vicarage, helping Margaret sew the costumes for the Christmas play. When she returned for luncheon at the inn, she informed him that Mrs Willoughby had kept to her room most of the day.
“I sat with her for a little while,” she said. “Just to see what was needed. And Louis took me to visit one of the worst cases of poverty in the parish. I can’t say I enjoyed that, but he seemed pleased with me for not turning faint at the sight of such squalor.” She looked thoughtful. “I think I am developing a conscience, Nic.”
“You always had a conscience,” he retorted. “Between the two of us I think yours is more developed than mine.”
“At least I won’t have to speak to Lady Strangeways.” She leaned closer. “Since she learned the
vicar is leaving, she has been in high dudgeon and nothing he can say will bring her round. I’m not sure why he would want to bring her around, but Margaret says she has a great deal of influence in the parish. Anyway, she has declared she is setting off to York to visit some relative or other.”
“Shame, she and the vicar seemed to be well matched.”
Sibylla snorted a laugh. “A match made in heaven? Never mind, without her the vicarage is much calmer. Even the vicar seemed quite subdued. Margaret was subdued too.”
“I expect she’s preparing to give me another lecture on all the reasons why we can’t be together,” he said thoughtfully.
“Probably. Have you prepared a rebuttal? You know she will never let herself believe she can be happy if she doesn’t sacrifice herself to achieve it?”
He smirked. “I’ve gone past arguing with her,” he said. “I am taking action.”
“Oh?”
He expected her to ask him more questions but instead she set down her knife and looked at him directly.
“I want to thank you for what you did for me. After my husband died and I was abandoned, penniless, you came to my rescue. You brought me home and tried to re-establish me into society, despite all the gossip. I am grateful for that.”
“You’re my only sister. My only sibling.”
She smiled. “Nevertheless, I am grateful. But I’m not sure I am the sort of woman who will ever be happy in your society. I’ve lived too long on the fringes. I enjoy not having to conform.”
“Neither of us find it easy to conform,” he agreed. “What are you saying, Sib? You were talking of eloping before. Can you at least wait until I have created my own scandal before you launch into another of yours?”
“I make no promises.”
He pushed aside his plate and stood up. “I am going out,” he said. “I have left some funds in your room, enough for you to travel home if you wish to. I’m also leaving most of the servants here, so feel free to call upon them. They may as well do some work as sit about eating their heads off at my expense.”
She looked at him strangely. “I don’t think I’ll ask what your plan is. At least then I can’t be held responsible for any of it.”
“Very wise. Deny all knowledge.” He bent to kiss her cheek.
“And Dominic? I wish you to be very, very happy.”
He smiled and closed the door behind him.
13
Margaret must have been waiting for the coach because as soon as the driver pulled up outside the vicarage, she stepped from the shelter of the doorway. Even bundled up in her brown cloak, she looked anxious. Dominic wasn’t particularly worried about her state of mind, just as long as she was here. He’d half feared she might not turn up.
When his servant stepped down to help her into the coach, she paused, peering in at him as if she might turn and flee. “Oh,” she said. “I did not realise we would be travelling together.”
“I could always run alongside,” he said in the sort of tone he knew she loathed.
Margaret huffed, then straightened her spine and sat down opposite him. A moment later the coach set off. She stared out of the window at the snowy landscape.
“I hope you will find our interlude enjoyable,” he said.
She was looking at him now, her green eyes narrowed and her cheeks flushed. “I will be offering you advice on your uncle’s effects, my lord. I’m not sure whether or not I will find it enjoyable. It is simply something that must be done.”
“Yes, you’re right, this is definitely something that must be done.”
He smiled and after a moment she smiled back.
“I must admit,” she began tentatively, “that despite my aversion to you, it is a relief to be away from the vicarage. There are so many undercurrents I hardly dare utter a word in case I say the wrong thing.”
Dominic laughed softly. “Your aversion to me? Was that why you kissed me? Margaret, please don’t tell me that is how you show your dislike of someone?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I am being perfectly rational. You told me that you—”
“My lord …”
“Dominic.”
“Dominic,” she corrected herself impatiently. “We have spoken of this already. Numerous times. I haven’t changed my mind and nor have my circumstances changed. There is nothing more to say.”
“Then we will say no more,” he agreed, and looked out of the window.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her open her mouth, and then close it. He knew she wanted him to argue his case again. She wanted him to plead with her to consider her future, and his, so that she could tell him no. Perhaps she was even hoping he would leap at her and wrap his arms about her and kiss her.
Or was she hoping he was planning to run away with her?
His heart beat steadily in his chest and he said nothing, waiting, watching. So much depended on the next few hours—his whole future happiness. And hers.
After a short time, Margaret leaned forward and frowned out of the coach window. “Where are we going? This isn’t the right road.”
“On a little journey,” he said calmly.
She turned to stare at him. She wasn’t panicking. Yet. She probably thought he was playing games with her, or teasing her, so she wasn’t angry. But she was about to be.
“I really must be back at the vicarage before supper,” she said reasonably.
“No.”
Her eyes were wide and startled. “What did you say?”
“I said no.” He shifted along his seat and leaned forward, so that their faces were only inches apart and he could see every eyelash framing those beautiful eyes. “We won’t be back at the vicarage before supper, Margaret. I plan for us to be far from the vicarage by then. We will return in five days, on Christmas morning.”
“What are you saying?” she demanded, her voice husky with emotion. “Are you insane?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he retorted. “What woman would allow herself to fall into the unhappy situation you are in and not put up a fight? You spoke of martyrs yesterday, but can’t you see you are the worst kind of martyr? You are allowing yourself to be forced into an intolerable position when you deserve so much more. When we were together in Mockingbird Square I said I was going to save you, Margaret, and that is what I have come to do. This is me saving you.”
Having spoken his piece, he sat back and waited. She stared at him, as if processing his words. Then, perhaps not quite believing him, she turned her head again to look through the window. If she was expecting to see Sir Cecil’s house then she was disappointed because now there was only wintery countryside all around them.
“Return me at once!” Margaret cried, turning to face him, hands clenched and cheeks rosy. “At once!”
“Certainly not,” he said.
“You cannot just—just take someone from their home and tell them you’re saving them! You cannot do that, whoever you are.”
“That is exactly what I have done. You needed saving, Margaret, and as you have told me often enough, I like to meddle. I like to see people happy. You are not happy.”
“This is—is …Who do you think you are?” she shrieked. “A respectable gentleman would never do this.”
“I have never said I was a respectable man,” he reminded her. “In fact, I am very sure that I am not. I do not fight cleanly. If I want something then I do everything in my power to secure it. My family began as kidnappers and marauders, and we have continued that way for centuries. If you mistook me for a gentleman, Margaret, then that was your mistake.”
Her face had paled now and her eyes grew bright with tears. “You are kidnapping me against my will.”
“Am I? Look into your heart, Margaret. I don’t think this is against your will at all.”
Margaret sat frozen in her corner of the coach and tried to pretend he wasn’t there. She had railed at him, tried to reason with him, called him names, begged him, and it was all to no av
ail. He would not listen. He would not change his mind. He would not take her back.
As much as she had always found the earl arrogant and annoying, she had never feared for his reason, not really. Now she knew how mistaken she had been. He was a lunatic and she was in his power.
The question was, what did he intend to do with her?
Should she be afraid? She gave him a sideways stare, but he was asleep, or pretending to be. His handsome face became even more handsome in repose, and his elegant, expensive clothing spoke for what he was. An earl and a gentleman. Except now she knew differently, he had admitted it himself. Dominic was no gentleman.
Her thoughts spiralled around and around, asking questions to which she had no answers. What would happen when she didn’t return tonight? Would her father search for her or would he shrug and assume the worst? Especially when it was discovered that the earl was also missing. And what of Louis and Lady Sibylla? They were both very reliable, and she had no doubt they could fill her shoes in many ways. But then there was her mother. Aunt Lily was supposed to be visiting for Christmas, but Dominic had said he wouldn’t return until Christmas morning, almost a week away.
So much could happen in a week. Her mother had told her to seek her own happiness, but the concept was foreign and frightening to Margaret. Suddenly it seemed that every possible, awful scenario was roaring through her head. Until it felt as if it was about to explode.
Margaret burst into tears. She put her hands over her face to stifle her sobs, but the tears ran between her fingers and dripped off her chin.
A moment later, she found herself transplanted from her side of the coach and onto Dominic’s lap. His strong arms were wrapped around her, his breath was warm against her hair, and although she knew she should struggle and fight him, she didn’t want to. If she was honest, it felt nice being held in the curve of his body. It felt comforting. And just this once she didn’t want to deny herself the pleasure.
