Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

M argaret stood alone outside the back of her father’s house. She was looking in through the window, seeing her sisters crowded around a card table.

They were having fun, laughing, each one winning a hand in turn, placing down their cards victoriously.

Margaret raised a hand and knocked on the window, but not one looked toward her at the sound. It was as if she were invisible, and the noises she made soundless. She was no longer a part of the family.

She envied their laughter and their smiles. It made her gut curl with jealousy as she raised her hands to cover her arms, trying to fight the cold. She noticed she wasn’t wearing the warm green gloves Theo had given her. She longed for them, but confused, she didn’t know where she had left them.

Then a shout went up in her father’s house.

Margaret stared through the window to see her sisters all jumping up from their places at the table.

Evelina flung herself in front of Louisa, Alexandra and Penelope, trying to protect them as the door burst open.

Margaret thought it would be their father, but it wasn’t. It was a man made of dark shadows, his face indistinct from the shadowy form. He threw himself forward, going to attack the sisters.

The whole house shook, as if an earthquake shuddered beneath their feet.

Margaret threw fisted hands at the glass window. She was trying to break it down, smash the glass and return her sisters, but she couldn’t get through. She was forced to pummel the impenetrable glass as her sisters screams filled the air.

The shadowy form moved for Evelina first, throwing her to the ground as she clutched her rounded stomach.

Margaret shouted.

“Evelina!”

Margaret sat up in bed. Breathing heavily, she looked around, throwing the covers off herself as her gaze settled on the moonlit chamber.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

She bent forward, hiding her face in her hands as she considered everything she had seen in that nightmare. It was no great leap of the imagination to see what had conjured it.

Their father, like a monster, had infected their lives. She feared it would hurt all of them forever more. That shadowy figure was their father and Margaret, unable to make it in through the glass, was always going to fear her inability to help her sisters.

Scrambling out of the bed, Margaret could not stand still. She paced up and down in her chemise, pulling at her neckline. The nightmare had left her heated to the touch, her skin practically on fire.

She needed someone to talk to, someone to explain everything to, in the hope they could offer some comfort.

Margaret turned to face the adjoining door in her chamber.

She knew it led to Theodore’s room. She also knew it was bolted tight, meaning she could not possibly go in to talk to Theodore.

She leaned upon the door, considering knocking and begging entry, but at this time of night, she could wake him up. It was not like demanding entrance to his study. This was his bedchamber. It was infinitely more of a personal invasion.

Turning her back on the door, Margaret reached for the other door in her chamber. Looking to escape, she strode out into the corridor. Without a candle, she used only the moonlight to navigate her way.

“Air. I need fresh air,” she muttered to herself, walking the length of the corridor to a distant door that she knew led out onto a balcony. The lock had the key inside. It was easy to turn, allowing her to fling open both doors and open them wide.

A great gust of cold wind met her face as she stepped out onto the balcony wearing just her chemise. Her bare feet met brick, though it still didn’t persuade her to return inside.

Her hands clung to the balcony railing as she stared out over the gardens.

Even in this pale white light, she could see the flower heads were fading now with the change of the seasons. The cold air was making them droop, some flowers blackening with the turn of autumn.

Margaret tried to focus on the garden, to think of nothing else but the flowers, yet she couldn’t help it. Soon enough, her thoughts were back on her sisters and the dream with the shadowy man come to hurt them all.

“I need to help them. I have to.”

“Help who?” Theo’s voice made her whirl around in shock.

He stood just a few steps behind her in the corridor, wearing only a loose shirt, trousers, and some boots he must have pulled on in a rush, though the laces were tied neatly.

Distracted by the flash of skin revealed at his neck, Margaret looked back out over the balcony and at the garden.

“Margaret, what on earth are you doing out here at this time of night?”

“I had a nightmare. That was all. I… I just needed some fresh air.”

“And you thought that the wisest thing to do would be to come and give yourself a chill? You’ll catch your death.” He shrugged something off his shoulder.

She had not paid attention to the black strip before, but she suddenly knew what it was as he laid it across her shoulders. It was a frock coat. His fingers brushed her arms as he wrapped her up in the coat.

“Thank you,” she murmured in surprise.

“Now, what was the nightmare?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Then why else am I standing out on my balcony at night in the freezing cold?” He turned and closed the door behind them, stopping the cold from bleeding anymore into the house, then he leaned beside her on the railing. “What was your nightmare?”

She stared at him in surprise. In this light, his blue eyes could have been silver. It was rather an intoxicating sight, especially when he was looking at her with such intensity.

Sighing, she looked away, out over the balcony.

“It was about my family.” She described how her sisters had been playing cards, and how the shadowy figure had attacked them all. “I couldn’t get to them. I couldn’t help them. Neither could they hear me. The glass, I could not break it.”

“I see.” He leaned on the railing with both forearms, like her now staring out across the garden. “Your father has a lot to answer for, doesn’t he?”

“Perhaps.” She nodded. “I’d like to help them.”

“They are always welcome here, any time. You know that, don’t you?”

“Thank you.” She smiled sadly. It was a kindness indeed, for him to welcome them into this house as if it were their own. Yet she knew it would only go so far to help them. How could she help her sisters escape the grip of their father forever? “You never did ask for a dowry for me, did you?”

“I was not so great a fool as to think there would be one. Also, such things didn’t matter. As you’ve seen, I have enough money. Our marriage was not about money.”

“I know.” Margaret nodded. “It was about reputation and a good name.” She sighed wearily.

“You going to tell me any more about this dream?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that you mentioned Evelina clutching her stomach a lot.”

Margaret nodded once again. How could she tell Theodore that she feared their father’s influence infecting the next generation, too? How could she tell him that there was yet another reason why she thought of Evelina and the new baby that would soon be arriving so much?

“What is it, Maggie?” His voice had softened so much, it urged her to incline her head toward him a little.

When he spoke like this, it was almost easy to forget that he could be as cold as stone. Instead, she thought of his kindness. She thought of his insistence on buying her new things, the way he had signed happily for all the new furniture she had brought into the house. She also thought of their breakfasts together.

The last couple of days, they had both managed to laugh a little as they shared their food, talking about what was in the news that day. They never spoke of anything serious to the two of them, yet all the nonsense they spoke of together meant something to her.

“Maggie?” he pleaded again. “What is it?”

“I always thought that someday… I’d have a family of my own.” She couldn’t look at him as she made this confession. She pulled his crock coat tighter around her shoulders and kept her gaze firmly on the garden.

She felt the way she had ruffled his feathers though. He reset his position beside her, standing tall.

“I am not asking you for a family,” she added hastily. “Believe me, you made yourself perfectly clear on what you felt about that matter before, but it means also persuading myself to let go of that wish. Does that make sense?”

“It does.” He nodded, looking down between them. “There are always wishes in life we sometimes have to let go of.”

“You have wishes of your own you have relinquished?”

“Of course.” Though the way he refused to look at her now told her that he was not going to reveal to her what those things were.

“I will let go of it,” she assured him. “I will be a devoted aunt and a loving sister. That will be my purpose.”

His hand slid near hers on the railing. She was so tempted to reach out and touch his hand with hers, but she held herself back. It would be too much, to reach out and touch him as she longed to do so now. She could just picture how he would pull back from her, then this soft and warm moment between them, despite the cold air, would dissipate.

“I suppose I have completed much of my purpose for being here in this world for my father’s sake,” she said quickly, trying to move the conversation on so she stopped dwelling on thoughts of touching Theo’s hand. “I have improved my father’s reputation by marrying a duke, and you say by marrying into another titled family, I have improved your name in business too?”

Theo nodded, though he did not smile.

“Does this thought no longer please you?”

“One’s worth in this world is not summarized by reputation.”

“You have changed your tune,” she remarked with a small, amused smile.

“I never said it was all that I thought of.” He turned to face her. “One’s worth lies in their character, and if you want to spend your life devoted to the welfare and happiness of your sisters…” He paused and smiled fully. He looked entirely different, his face lit up.

She was rather reminded of the darkness being transformed by the bright moon.

“Then I think that is a wonderful way to spend a life,” he assured her.

“Thank you.” She leaned a little toward him, her temptation growing by the second to touch his hand, though the coldness in the air and the distance between their hands seemed very great now, even if it was a small distance indeed. “You really can be quite comforting when you want to be. I used to think you’re like a statue.”

“Cold and immovable? It would not be the first time I’ve been likened to such a thing. Don’t worry, the statue will be here again soon enough.” He smiled a little and she giggled at his jest.

“I hope not.” She shook her head. “I like it when you are not that statue.”

He said nothing but held onto that smile a little as he looked out over the garden.

“It’s getting colder,” he observed. “Shall we go back inside?”

“Yes.” She turned her back on the view, still pulling his frock coat tightly around her body as she walked inside. He followed her, locking the door behind them.

Neither of them walked particularly quickly toward their chambers but ambled slowly, side by side.

“How come you were out here?” she asked after a minute or so of companionable silence.

“I was already awake, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t sleep.” Though he didn’t offer an explanation as to why that was. “Then I heard you cry out in your sleep. By the time I had pulled some clothes on and opened our adjoining door, you were gone, so I came looking for you.”

“You did? You were concerned for me?” She halted by her door, turning to face him.

“Perhaps. Just a little.” He conceded with a small smile. “I’m not used to all of this…” He waved a hand in the air.

“All of what?” she asked.

“I’m used to this house being empty. To not having to feel… very much at all.” He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to her, staring past her, though she hung on his every word regardless. “Since you’ve been here, I’ve felt concern. I’ve felt sadness. I’ve certainly felt irritation.”

“Sounds like you’re not enjoying having me here very much,” she teased him, relieved to see when he smiled a little.

“It’s certainly an experience having you here.”

“Based on your smile, I’m going to take that as a compliment and go back to bed now before either of us say anything to ruin it.”

He laughed softly as she turned into her bedchamber. His laughter was infectious, and it made her smile broaden.

If only he would laugh like that more often.

There was something exhilarating about it, especially when it was just the two of them, and she was the only one around to hear it.

“Wait.” At his plea, she halted, turning back to face him in the doorway.

She offered his hand out toward her, curious, she gave him her hand, jumping at their fingers connected. Despite the cold outside, his hand was warm. It offered that comfort she had been craving from his touch when they had stood out on the balcony.

“Goodnight, Maggie.” He raised her hand to his lips.

Margaret held her breath. He had kissed her hand just once before, the day that he had proposed, yet this time, it was different. He turned her hand over and lightly placed his lips to the inside of her wrist. He lingered there too. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he had pulled back quickly. She even expected him to retreat fast, but he hovered a little longer.

The only thing she wished for was for him to look her in the eye, but he did not. He looked down as he released her hand and the warmth of his lips on her skin vanished.

“Until tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered, but he was gone all too fast, disappearing into the room next door.

Margaret stared at the empty space he had left behind for what had to be a full minute.

What did he mean by that kiss?