Hadn’t he already been dismayed at Arthur’s calculating response to his daughter being found? So, what was the right thing to do?
He led her into Cobb’s Penn, which appeared to be under construction. It was nice to see the proprietors already making improvements. One more reason for Noelle to shine for the railroad.
“I didn’t get a chance to show you the delights of Noelle the first day. We have a great deal of goods people from far and wide come to purchase. A railroad would make it easier to supply, increasing the town’s size and stature.”
“It would do so for any town the railroad came to,” Margaret said absently, looking around the store. Avis, one of the brides who’d come to Noelle, came out from behind the counter to greet her.
“Hello, Minnie. Is there anything I can help you find today?”
The warm smiles the women exchanged made Hugh feel guilty for so quickly deciding Margaret had to go home. She’d clearly made friends here.
“No. Hugh was just showing me around. I’m glad to see where you’ll be working, and I look forward to visiting you again in the future to see all the changes you’re making. I’ll let you get back to work.”
Why did Margaret have to be so… good-hearted? It would have been easier to send someone like Maybelle home.
Margaret turned to Hugh. “One of the women I came with, Birdie, has her dressmaking business in the freight office. I was hoping to say hello to her after she was so kind to me on the journey here. The cloak I had given Minnie and then had to wear myself was poor in quality, and Birdie shared some of her fabric with me to keep me warm.”
She gave Hugh a smile. “I am most grateful for her friendship, and if the railroad representatives meet people like her, they will see a place where their investment will thrive.”
The confidence in her voice made him smile. Margaret was truly a kind woman and had circumstances been different, he would have enjoyed a marriage with her, getting to know her, and perhaps, even falling in love.
They said their goodbyes at the dry goods store, and continued to the freight office to say hello to Margaret’s friend. It was hard, thinking of her as Margaret, particularly when she had asked to remain Minnie, but Hugh needed to keep his distance.
Jack came out, limping as he always did. “Good day to you, Hugh.” Then he paused. “Or should I say, Lord Hugh? There’s been talk that we’ve gotten it wrong all this time.”
“Not at all,” Hugh said, trying to remain calm. “In America, titles mean nothing, and even in England, mine is mere courtesy. I’m a man, the same as anyone else, so please continue addressing me as you always have.”
He’d feared people learning of his title for this very reason. Being a man on equal level with others had given him a freedom unlike any he’d ever known. Why had Arabella arrived to ruin it all?
Even though it had come at great expense, Hugh had sent cables across the Atlantic in hopes of finding out. Surely, she didn’t think they’d get married, his nephews and brother would die, and she would once again be a duke’s wife? Even a duke’s widow had status, so it wasn’t as though she’d lost everything.
“Glad to hear it. Is there anything I can help you with?” Jack’s broad grin reassured Hugh.
“I’m just showing Margaret around. I believe she was eager to say hello to Birdie.”
Birdie emerged from the back, carrying several bolts of cloth. “I’m here. It’s so nice of you to stop by.”
Jack’s grandfather, Gus, had come in, carrying more of Birdie’s cloth, looking more chipper than Hugh had seen him in a long time. Even though Hugh’s bride situation didn’t seem to be working out, the other brides had brought a great deal of cheer to Noelle.
As Margaret and Birdie chatted amiably, Hugh once again couldn’t help thinking that it was a shame she would be leaving.
Even though they’d gotten off to a rough start, he wondered if some of her original prickliness was due to her fear of discovery. Now that she was fully out in the open as Margaret, she was quite charming and friendly. And, as much as he hated to admit it, the more time he spent with her, the prettier he found her.
If there was a way to defy Margaret’s father without putting the town in jeopardy, Hugh would do it. But if Arthur was willing to marry off his daughter to one of England’s most profligate scoundrels to make her a countess, he couldn’t see the man accepting her marriage to the assayer of a small mining town.
Hugh might be a duke’s son, but it meant nothing when Margaret would never get a title of her own, nor would their children. He looked over at her, noticing how she chattered with Birdie over a piece of fabric. Margaret would be happier without a title. If only that mattered to her father.
When they were finished, Hugh showed her around the rest of the town. There hadn’t been much to see, but he hoped it gave Margaret a favorable impression.
As for Hugh, he needed a break from the woman. Now, she annoyed him in a different way. She was too nice, too kind, too beautiful, and when she looked at him with those clear blue eyes of hers, he thought she was silently reminding him of the terrible fate she faced. He returned her to La Maison, grateful that one of the ladies said Arabella had retreated to her room, pleading a headache. At least Margaret would have some peace.
A trip to the telegraph office showed that some of his inquiries had been answered. Lord Milliken was every bit as awful as Margaret had made him out to be. In some ways, worse. Several brothels had shown him the curb because of the violent way he’d treated the women, and he’d already accrued a large gambling debt in anticipation of his marriage.
Was this the fate Hugh wanted for her?
Could he live with himself, delivering her to her father’s men?
But could he also live with himself, knowing that his desire to save Margaret just might be the town’s downfall? What would Arthur Coveney do if they didn’t hand Margaret over?
He’d gotten nothing back about Arabella, though he hadn’t expected an answer so soon. The more he dwelled upon his brother’s death, the more he had to wonder if she would have been so cold as to have had a hand in it. His brother had been an excellent hunter, and her vague answer of a hunting accident seemed improbable.
Even though he’d sent a cable home, he decided to send another message. His man of business had gone on to other things, but they still sometimes corresponded. Perhaps, for old times’ sake, and a shared hatred of Arabella, his friend would dig deeper into John’s death.
Now that business had been taken care of, Hugh wandered back to his office. He wasn’t expecting ore, but it would be nice to be surprised. But maybe their hope wasn’t in gold. The mountains held other valuable minerals. What if their ore had other things that could put, and keep, Noelle on the map.
Maybe then, they wouldn’t need Margaret’s father’s approval because what they had was more valuable than the coal the man provided.
Definitely a dream that was more fantasy than fact, but it could happen. Chase had asked him to find an alternative bride, and as Hugh looked around the town, there didn’t seem to be any other options.
Chapter 5
The Fourth Day of Christmas
December 28, 1876
The day before had been pleasant for Minnie, seeing the town, and getting to know the people in Noelle better. However, it only deepened her disappointment that Hugh was no longer willing to marry her. What was the point in this charade when she would be returning home?
Yesterday was another wedding that wasn’t hers, and she was surprised at how much it had affected her. As terrified as she’d been of her wedding night, she wished she’d been brave enough to endure it that first night.
She went down to the parlor as she always did in the mornings, and was starting to feel sad at the diminishing number of ladies. She might not have established deep friendships with any of them yet, but their company was a welcome respite from Arabella’s nastiness.
Madame Bonheur was standing in the center of the parlor, taking
stock. She turned to glare at Minnie. “I hope you people are happy, ruining my business. I’m sure the Reverend is quite pleased with himself, the mess he’s making of things. Mark my words, you will all pay.”
Even though Minnie did not approve of the woman’s business, it must be difficult to have her life uprooted like that. At least Minnie could ease her frustration.
“I’m sure everything will be all right,” she said pleasantly in French.
The other woman looked at her blankly, like she had no idea what Minnie was saying. Minnie knew her French was just fine. She and Birdie, who was from Quebec, had spent yesterday speaking French. But the way Madame looked at her, Minnie knew she didn't understand a word. Madame, too, wasn't who she said she was.
Maybe that was the beauty of life in Noelle. You might have been born one way, but that didn't mean you had to stay that way. Who else in this town had taken on a new identity for whatever reason? Maybe this was a place to become who you wanted to be. When she'd first gotten here, she'd been playacting at being Minnie. But here, now, with Margaret's future on the line, she truly could be the woman she dreamed of being.
She gave Madame a smile. "I am truly sorry for any inconvenience we have caused."
Minnie walked into the kitchen, where breakfast was being prepared. She hadn’t done much more in the past than make tea, but as she remembered the complicated stove in Hugh’s kitchen, and how he'd told her that she would learn, she realized the cooking was a skill she would need regardless. If Hugh didn't want to marry her, fine. Minnie would find another way to freedom, and she would still need the skills to survive on her own.
"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked Milly, the cook, who was stirring something on the stove.
Milly turned to her. "What are you doing, messing in my kitchen?"
Minnie smiled at her. "I'm not trying to intrude. Nor do I want to take your place. When I’m married, I will need to operate my husband’s stove. I don't know how to cook. If I learned, it would help me survive better here in Noelle."
At first, Minnie was sure the cook was going to say no. But then she nodded slowly. "I hear you're a real lady," she said.
She would have to answer this question for a while. Maybe that's why so many people hid who they all were. Why Hugh had never told anyone he was a lord. Even now, she noticed how people seemed more in awe of him, and gave him a little more deference than they used to. He obviously hadn't wanted to capitalize on his title, but wanted to live a new life. She couldn't understand why anyone wouldn't want to be a lord, but maybe being one wasn't everything it was cut out to be. After all, the one she was supposed to marry was certainly no prize.
"I'm just the same as anyone else here," Minnie said. "I'm here to start a new life, and my days of being a wealthy, pampered girl are over."
Milly looked doubtful. Minnie squared her shoulders. "Aren't there things in your past you'd prefer other people not know, or maybe that you've learned and grown from, and are choosing to live differently? I don't want to be the woman I was in Denver. I want to be part of this place, contributing the best I can."
A look of understanding crossed Milly's face. But then she shook her head. "I hear people are coming to take you home."
Minnie nodded slowly. “I'm hoping to convince them otherwise. But even if I go home with them now, I will be back."
It was a bold statement, considering she had no idea how that would ever happen. Not with the way her parents guarded her every move. They'd certainly be even more on guard when she returned. But she couldn't go back to that life. Even if her family agreed that she wasn't going to marry Lord Milliken, they would still want her to marry someone else of their choosing. And they had entirely different ideas about her happiness.
Whatever Minnie had said, it had convinced Milly. Because she gestured to the stove, and before Minnie knew it, she was wearing an apron, learning how to cook.
When Hugh arrived at La Maison, he was surprised to find Margaret in the kitchen, helping prepare breakfast.
"I thought you couldn't cook," he said.
Margaret gave him a dazzling smile that made something deep in his heart ache. "It was time I learned. Milly has been good enough to give me some lessons. If you’re hungry, you should sit and have some breakfast. You can test my new skill.”
He didn't move. Instead, he stared at her. "It's nice you want to find a way to pass the time, but you'll be going home soon, and it seems that is a waste of both your time and Milly’s."
Margaret glared at him. "How can you say that? Learning new skills is not a waste of time. I will never again be the helpless girl I was. Besides, I don't want to go back. I want to stay in Noelle. You spent the past few days showing me what a wonderful place it is, sharing the town's vision. How can I go back?"
This was not the result he'd had in mind. Especially because Margaret seemed so out of place here. But as he looked at her earnestly shining eyes, he realized that while she had a lot to learn, he never once thought she didn't fit in. How many people had looked at him as a lord, and thought he belonged in a ballroom instead of playing with metal? He hadn’t found such freedom until coming here. Maybe they weren't so different after all.
But just as Hugh felt his heart softening towards her, he shook his head. The difference between them was that he was free to stay here. He had no obligations, whatever Arabella claimed, to return home. Margaret, on the other hand, did.
"And what of the family who misses you?" he asked.
Margaret shook her head sadly. "My family misses me just as much as Arabella misses her sons. They see me as a tool, not a person they care about. I am their showpiece, and my accomplishments serve to highlight how wonderful they are, but they have not once considered what makes me happy."
She looked thoughtful for a moment, like she wasn't sure she wanted to continue, but then she straightened and looked him directly in the eye. "No one asked me if I wanted to marry Lord Milliken. They told me. He didn't even have the courtesy to propose. A girl spends her whole life dreaming of the moment a man will propose to her, but instead, I got something very different. He took me on a drive and told me that since we were to be married, we should be seen together."
Margaret frowned. And her frown turned to something that looked almost like dejection. She looked up at him. "You have done the best job of courting me of anyone. You wanted me to be comfortable, and you treated me with respect. You might not have spoken of love, but you have to understand, that was a luxury I've never been allowed."
She dished some food out onto a plate, then set it on the table. "Eat before it gets cold."
Then she dished out plates for the women who’d begun trickling into the room. She brought her own to the table, sat and dug into her meal. At the first bite, she looked incredibly pleased.
"This isn’t terrible," she said. "I made this myself, and it's good."
Milly banged the spoon on the pot. "Of course, it's good. I taught you."
“It’s delicious,” Mrs. Walters said. “You’re a fast learner.”
The other ladies murmured in agreement. Why did they all have to be so encouraging to Margaret? They weren’t making his job any easier.
Margaret smiled and took another bite. Then she looked up at Hugh. "You should at least try it. It would be rude not to."
He couldn't help smiling at her words. Deep down, she couldn't hide her breeding. But along with that breeding, there was an inherent kindness and gentleness to her that many women in his class did not possess. It was one of the reasons he had avoided the marriage market in England. So many vain and shallow women like Arabella, all pretty little dolls with their so-called accomplishments, but not a drop of substance.
What a cruel trick that the woman sitting before him had both.
Hugh took a seat. Margaret was quietly eating her breakfast, but her eyes were upon him. What if the food was terrible? Would he be able to tell her the truth without hurting her feelings? But when he took a bite, it wa
s indeed quite good. She wouldn't be preparing gourmet meals, but she could make eggs, and people could survive on eggs. A man could survive quite a long time on them, actually.
"What's that smile about?" Margaret asked.
"I was thinking that eggs were the first dish I learned how to make. They’re simple but filling. It’s a good skill to have. I'm glad you’re learning, but I fear you will have little use for it when you go home."
She set her fork down with a thud. "Why are you so insistent on sending me home? Do I displease you so much that you cannot stand the sight of me? I know my deception was wrong, but you, too, were less than honest about your origins. And I'm finding, the more I notice about others in this town, they also have their secrets. Perhaps it was wrong of me to lie about my identity, but we all have things we want to hide."
What on earth was she talking about? And then he thought about his friends and the gaps in their stories, or the pieces of the past that only came out after too much drink. But it wasn't the same.
"Yes, but you are a young lady of means. You have a family who loves you."
He stopped at his words. Hadn't Margaret already told him she was merely property to her family? That all her family wanted for her was an advantageous match which would make them look good? All she wanted for herself was the very thing he had come to Noelle in search of. Why was he more worthy of that life than she? Suddenly, he felt like a heel. Unfortunately, there were greater reasons for getting Margaret to cooperate than just her background.
"I'm sorry, Margaret, you're right. I know you want a new life for yourself, but the difference is, in running away, you’re defying a powerful man. Have you not thought of the consequences of angering your father? What do you think he will do to the people who help you thwart his plans?"
Her face turned white. She looked almost like she was going to be sick. "I saw him beat a stable boy once for stealing from the kitchen," she said quietly. "It was just an apple, and I hadn't eaten mine that day. It cost us nothing, but he was so irate at being stolen from."
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