Lord Williams’s eyes narrowed and I realized I’d allowed too much interest to show in my voice. “I thought he didn’t know you were here.”
“I didn’t know he knew. Someone must have told him.” He eyed me as though I was that person.
I looked to Daniel. Had he actually come through for me?
“There is a note here for you, as well.”
Mr. Northam had written to me?
Lord Williams handed me the folded paper with my name scrawled across its front. I unfolded it, turning slightly to block the writing from his view.
My dear, I curse my folly that I did not secure you when I had the opportunity. Only tell me that I am still wanted and I am yours. ~F. Northam.
I stared at the words. He regretted his silence. He was still mine.
I could still succeed.
Lord Williams stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What does it say?”
I quickly folded the paper and looked up, trying to pretend the note hadn’t meant anything. “It is a trifle, that is all.”
“My cousin never trifles in matters of import,” Lord Williams said.
Was he saying I was a matter of import?
He stood so close it was difficult to think.
“You still wish to marry him instead of me?”
I shook my head. Then I nodded. Then frowned. “It’s why you are here, is it not? To make a union between me and your cousin impossible?”
“That is not the only reason,” he said.
“Well, whatever the other reason, I’m certain it has nothing to do with me. You’ve proved you don’t care about my wishes at all.” Except that wasn’t true. He hadn’t told the others about the lake.
So he did care?
I searched his face, trying to discern what I saw in his steady gaze before I remembered—it didn’t matter if he cared. It was worse if he cared. Because I could never care.
“Margaret,” Daniel called. “If you’re not going to play anymore, let’s set up the cards.”
Lord Williams didn’t move. “My cousin is not to be trusted.”
I tilted my head. “And you are?” There was too much vulnerability in my voice for it to be the quip I’d meant it to be.
His brow furrowed, but he hesitated a moment too long.
“I believe Daniel is anxious for your company.” I turned and pretended interest in the music.
His hand touched my back as he leaned near my ear. “Your performance at the Hickmores’ was flawless.” Then the warmth of his breath and the gentleness of his touch were gone.
Nineteen
Lord Williams was absent when I joined my family in the parlor the next morning. The clock testified he still had a few minutes before breakfast. I glanced at the door.
“Missing your love already?” Daniel smirked.
I forced my features into a calm, untroubled appearance. “Not at all, I assure you.”
“Well, you needn’t worry. He was out early and will be delayed only a few minutes.”
I rolled my eyes. “I cannot tell you how comforting that is.”
“Do you really not like the baron, Margaret?” Alice asked.
After yesterday, I no longer knew how to answer that question. “Can we please speak of something else?” I glanced at my mother for help, but she was engrossed in a letter. On pink paper. There was only one person who ever wrote us on pink paper. “How is Mrs. Hickmore, Mother?”
She waved a hand, instructing me to be quiet, and turned the page over to continue reading. I hadn’t realized my mother found Mrs. Hickmore’s letters so interesting. I directed my gaze outside. The trees sat still and the sky was bright and clear except for a few clouds in the distance.
“Margaret, what is the meaning of this?” my mother demanded a second later.
I frowned in confusion. “Of what?”
She read from the page. “I have every reason to expect a union between your daughter and the man in question; only time will tell if it is to be a happy one. Perhaps, in Margaret’s case, it will be, for though I would normally advise any mother to keep her daughter far away from Mr. Northam, I think this union is exactly what she is looking for. For my part, I wish it weren’t.”
I stared at her. “You wrote Mrs. Hickmore about Mr. Northam?”
My father lowered his paper. “Eloise, I specifically forbade you from—”
“Did you really expect me not to, Colin? Our daughter deserves to be happy. Or am I the only one who feels that way?” She returned her attention to me. “Mr. Northam does not appear to be the kind of man who would bring about such happiness, though, does he?”
“He isn’t,” Daniel interrupted. “Mr. Northam is a rake of the worst kind.”
“And what do you know of it, Daniel?” I asked dismissively, trying to ignore the pool of foreboding forming in my stomach.
His eyes narrowed. “I know enough. I caught him, Margaret, the first night we were there, creeping out of the house with a girl too young to know better.”
My face heated, but I shrugged. “Every woman at that party knew better. Besides, what do I care what he does when he isn’t with me?”
My mother gasped. “Margaret, you cannot be serious.”
“Why not? All it means is that he is like every other man of our acquaintance. Unlike Edward, though, Mr. Northam doesn’t pretend to be someone else. So at least with him I know what I am getting.”
“Margaret,” my father chastised.
I glanced at him. “Should I not say such things, even though they are true?” I turned to my mother. “It doesn’t matter anyway, since it makes no difference how I feel. Everything has already been ruined.”
“Unless you content yourself with Lord Williams,” Daniel said. “He is obviously determined to have you. And he is nothing like Edward.”
“He is exactly like Edward—pleasing and gentlemanly when he wants to be, yet ruining people’s lives without a second thought when he deems it fitting.” My voice was louder than I’d meant and I took a deep breath to calm down.
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Oh, come, Margaret. If you had met Lord Williams before the misunderstanding with Edward, you would be madly in love by now.”
“That’s enough, both of you,” my father interrupted. “This is not a conversation to have in the parlor.” He glanced at Alice, who was standing behind my mother, her eyes wide.
My chest heaved with the injustice of my situation. But I shouldn’t have spoken so in front of Alice. “I apologize,” I said to her.
My father nodded. “I think we have waited long enough for our guest. Margaret?” He gestured toward the breakfast table.
I shook my head. “No, thank you. I find I’ve lost my appetite.” I strode out of the breakfast room and out of the house.
A trail of decimated leaves followed me around the lake. When I reached the boulder that Daniel had fallen off the morning after returning from the Hickmores’, I climbed onto it. The clouds in the distant sky had gathered, promising an impending storm, but for now only a slight breeze blew, pulling strands of my hair loose while its caress played along my skin. I scooted to the edge of the rock and leaned over.