She did. And this could very well be her last opportunity to become a mother—to have a family.
To have a purpose.
She had no need to marry for security and although she felt a warm affection for Mr. Kirkley, she did not love him. Furthermore, she was under no misapprehensions that he loved her. He wanted a wife, a companion. Perhaps in time, they would come to love one another.
But she could only become a mother if her husband was able to… “perform.”
And the house party presented her with the perfect opportunity to confirm his abilities. Having grown up in this manor, and with Penelope as the hostess, Margaret knew exactly which chamber her unofficial fiancé occupied. She was perfectly comfortable walking through the corridors at night and as he was in one of the smaller rooms, his valet slept elsewhere.
“I must have a chance.” And then she covered her face. “You are quite certain I should not simply try talking to him?”
“You have already made several attempts, and has he not already expressed his desire to make an announcement?” Penelope pressed her.
“And you are certain I ought to disrobe before climbing into his bed?”
She would take Penelope’s advice on this issue. Margaret was comfortable in nearly every normal social circumstance, but this was… certainly not normal.
And if she was going to go ahead with such an underhanded scheme, she needed to do all that she could to ensure its success.
“Definitely. Mr. Kirkley seems to be deeply concerned with proprieties and if allowed the opportunity to consider… Well, his strict adherence to decency might have him escorting you back to your chamber with a stern scolding. Enter the room, remove your night rail, and slip into the bed beside him. The most—”
“Climb into the bed…? Naked? Is this really necessary?”
Penelope scowled. “You aren’t climbing into his bed so that the two of you can cuddle, Margaret.” She scrunched her nose. “The maid who is servicing his room informed me that he sleeps in a nightshirt, so you’ll already have to maneuver around that. Take his member into your hands if he isn’t… enthusiastic immediately. Be gentle but firm. Stroke him up and down.”
“I’m a widow, not a virgin, Pen.” And yet Margaret wondered if she might succumb to a fit of vapors before she even made it out of her own bedchamber. Although she had resorted to such tactics on a few occasions with Lawrence on those last few occasions… she could not imagine herself doing any such thing to Mr. Kirkley’s… She winced.
She’d rarely… handled… Lawrence’s appendage throughout most of their marriage. He’d considered it unseemly for a lady of refinement. Even when she’d done so out of necessity, he’d been mortified.
But they had both been hopeful. He’d wanted an heir—he’d needed an heir—and she’d simply wanted a child to love.
And so, they’d soldiered on…
She would have thought that after being married to a person for nearly eight years, there would have been nothing that could make them uncomfortable with one another. She had been quite wrong.
“And if you must, you could always use your mouth.”
Margaret frowned as Penelope finished her monologue. “My what? Penelope!”
“All of this depends on how motivated you are.”
“I’ll manage quite well without doing any such thing.” Margaret stiffened her spine and drew back her shoulders. She’d never! Long ago, she’d considered it but…
Climbing into bed with her prospective husband ought to be quite enough to obtain the answers she required.
Penelope merely shrugged. “Don’t dismiss something you’ve never tried.”
Margaret resisted the urge to cover her ears. “Will you remember that you are referencing my brother?” Determined to change the subject, she glanced toward the clock sitting atop the mantle. “How long do you think I ought to wait?” It was already a quarter past midnight.
“Half an hour.”
Margaret let out a long breath, causing Penelope to rush forward and give her a quick hug. “I have every faith in you. Have you considered that you might even conceive tonight? I would be so very happy for you!”
Margaret had, of course, considered this. She blinked away tears at the possibility.
“When you’ve finished, come knock on Hugh’s chamber to tell me all the details. I doubt I’ll sleep until I know how this turns out.”
Margaret raised her brows. She most definitively would not be giving her sister-in-law the details she wanted. “Don’t be ridiculous, Penelope. And please, please will you refrain from sharing any of this with my brother?”
Penelope shifted her gaze toward the corner. “Well, about that…”
Margaret’s heart dropped. Even talking to Penelope made her feel… exposed. Margaret had always been a very private person. “You already have.”
“Of course, I have. But he won’t say a word. Hugh is the soul of discretion.”
Hugh would not say a word to anyone else, but Margaret would have preferred her younger brother not know about any of this. Not only because of the obvious reasons but because it was manipulative and underhanded and… tawdry.
Ah, well. She supposed it would have been asking too much of Penelope to keep anything from her husband. Margaret shuddered and then closed her eyes.
“Don’t overthink this,” Penelope warned.
Margaret nodded and, feeling a flash of panic, asked, “Wish me luck?” She wasn’t the sort to believe in luck, or fortune or fate, making this a very uncharacteristic request for her. But this evening’s task was a most uncharacteristic one as well.
“I’m wishing you all the luck in the world.” Penelope smiled reassuringly and then, holding both hands up with fingers crossed, backed out and closed the door behind her.
Twenty-eight minutes to wait—twenty-eight minutes in which Margaret could either abandon the plan in its entirety or bolster herself with encouragement. She wasn’t cold and yet bouts of shivering threatened to travel through her frame.
Margaret placed one hand low on her abdomen. Despite all her misgivings, despite fearing the worst and knowing it was wrong, she firmed up her resolution.
She would not change her mind.
2
Oh, My!
Creaking hinges pierced the silence of the night like a shot in the dark. Margaret held her breath and froze until she was certain the sound hadn’t awakened him. She also glanced up and down the corridor to reassure herself that no one was awake to witness her entering a gentleman’s room.
She would have been quite surprised if there had been.
After waiting far longer than Penelope had advised—into the early morning hours, in fact—she’d not ventured out of her chamber until the urgency of her situation finally lent her the courage she’d needed. If she did not do this tonight then she never would.
Margaret clenched her teeth together when a shiver rolled through her.
She’d promised to marry Mr. Kirkley but she needed to be absolutely certain he could perform as required before she went through with it.
Hearing nothing but deep steady breathing from her unsuspecting fiancé inside the room, Margaret pushed the door inward and, feeling more like an emissary on an errand for the Crown than the desperate widow that she was, she quietly slipped inside and closed the door behind her.