Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“ M argaret!” Theodore was on his feet before he knew what he was doing. He threw down the accounts book, rounded the desk and marched out of the room, hastening after Margaret. “You cannot go without me. Think of what rumors would start. People would suspect we’d had an argument.”

“Hardly,” Margaret said with a sigh. “Many a couple do not attend events together. An excuse can be made for your absence. You’ll be too busy with work or have a headache from your incessant concentration on tidying everything you see before you.”

“How kind of you,” he muttered darkly, pursuing her through the house.

He had presumed she would go to the sitting room. It seemed to be her favorite place in the house, but he was wrong. She marched into the distance of the house, heading toward the small parlor where they barely spent any of their time.

“You cannot go without me.” He followed her into the room.

Margaret sat down at a writing bureau tucked into the corner.

“I intend to reply now to your cousin and tell him that I shall be attending.”

“You cannot!”

“Why not?” Margaret said, perfectly calmly.

Theodore turned to the mantelpiece. It didn’t matter that every ornament on that surface was already perfectly aligned. He busied himself straightening them again, just in case one was a little off.

“Because I have no wish to share a dinner party with my cousin this Christmas.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I do,” he insisted, straightening the last ornament about three times. “He is a great friend, a good man, but that does not mean I wish to spend an extended period of time with him this Christmas.”

“Why not?” Margaret asked plainly, showing no feeling or emotion in his voice.

Theodore turned and rested his elbow on the mantelpiece.

Because I do not wish to see him charming you.

The words were stifled in his throat. Cedric had a habit of charming every woman he ever came into contact with. At the ball, nothing had been different. Cedric had charmed Maggie with utter ease, making her fall under his spell. Theodore had watched it with anger, jealous of just how easily Cedric could make Maggie smile and dance with him.

“You can give no clear answer.” Margaret sighed and lifted a quill pen and fresh ink from a drawer. “If you do not wish to go, that is fine, but I shall be going.”

“Fine, then I shall go with you.”

“What?” She jerked her head around.

“Because there would be whispers if you did go alone. I have worked too much recently to protect my reputation. I cannot risk it turning sour again because we do not attend an event together.” He sighed and moved toward the writing bureau, peering over her shoulder at the letter. “If you are to write to him, tell him we shall both be there.”

“Anything else you wish me to say to him?”

“No.” Theodore nearly reached out toward her then. The wish filled him up inside. He longed to kiss her, as they had kissed before, to remind her that she was married to him, and no matter what charm Cedric may have, it was not the same.

Marriage of convenience. Remember that.

His hand fell at his side, and he walked out of the room.

“We’re going to be late!” Theodore called up the stairs. This felt all too familiar now as he turned to face Yates.

“Everything is ready with the carriage, Your Grace. If you wish, I’ll escort your wife to the carriage.”

“Thank you.” Theodore adjusted the lapels of his jacket and his cravat one last time. It sat perfectly. Not even a hair on his head was out of place. Somewhat pleased with the appearance of neatness, he turned and left the house.

Snow had started to fall lightly again, but it wasn’t settling, giving him confidence that they would be safe to make the journey to Cedric’s house. He climbed into the carriage and sat down on the bench, spending a few minutes adjusting his frock coat to make sure it rested as neatly as the rest of him.

Two figures appeared in the lantern light a minute or so later as Yates assisted Margaret to the carriage.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Have a good evening, Your Grace.”

The carriage door was closed as Margaret sat down on the bench opposite Theodore.

She didn’t look at him, but he couldn’t look anywhere else. She had worn one of the new gowns he had purchased for her, a new fur pelisse resting on her shoulders to keep her warm. The deep green gown was cinched just under the bust, the delicate hem falling over delicate white shoes on her feet.

Her hair was in a new style he had not seen before, bundled very high at the back of her hair with a cascade of brown curls falling at her neck. The only jewelry she wore was a single necklace that rested delicately on her throat.

Something tightened in Theodore’s gut as he looked at the necklace. It was a poor thing, nothing like the fine necklace he could have purchased for her.

I didn’t even think about buying her jewelry. Perhaps she would like that.

Not a word was passed between them on the journey, though Theodore repeatedly stole glances of his wife. Every time he managed to force himself to look outside, he was drawn back to staring at her again. His weakness was his alone though.

She has not once looked at me.

As they arrived at Cedric’s house, a footman opened the carriage door and Theodore stepped down first. The footman turned to offer his hand to Maggie, but Theodore was there first, taking her hand and helping her down. He could feel no warmth in her grasp because of the white gloves she wore, but he was all too aware of just how quickly she released his hand again.

They entered the house without a word to each other and were shown into the great drawing room by Cedric’s butler. There were already many people gathered for the evening, all bearing great beaning smiles and talking with excitement.

They had Christmas spirit, something that Theodore was confident he and Maggie were lacking significantly this evening.

“Theodore! There you are.” Cedric’s voice called.

Theodore turned to be greeted by his cousin.

“I’m glad you could come.” Cedric shook his hand firmly. “With all that Gabriel said about you avoiding some events like this, I thought you might not come.”

“I considered it,” Theodore muttered under his breath, but Cedric seemed not to notice. His head was already turning in Maggie’s direction.

“Ah, Your Grace. I’m so pleased you could make it tonight.” Once more, he took hold of Margaret’s hand with swift ease. He raised it to his lips and kissed the back, holding her gaze in the most charismatic and flirtation way.

Something badly darkened inside of Theodore’s chest. He felt as if shadows were swallowing him up as he reached out and possessively laid a hand on the back of Maggie’s waist. If she noticed, she gave no sign of it. Instead, she seemed utterly enraptured by the way Cedric had kissed her hand.

“I have been waiting for your arrival all evening, Your Grace,” Cedric continued with his flirtation.

What is he doing? He does know we are married!

“Now the games can begin,” Cedric declared, clapping his hands together.

“We are the last to arrive?” Maggie asked, keeping her eyes on him.

“My mother tells me there is one more to arrive, but everyone I’ve been waiting for is now here. Tell me, what Christmas games do you like?” Cedric asked this question solely to Maggie.

As a servant offered them glasses of wine, Theodore took two. He passed one to Maggie then returned to holding his hand on her waist. She jerked her head toward him this time, but said nothing, instead, she turned back to Cedric and answered his question.

“What games are you offering, my lord?”

“Charades, perhaps? Ha! Though I do not think I have ever seen Theodore here play a game. Not since he was a child.” Cedric looked Theodore firmly in the eye for the first time. “Do you remember how we played as children?”

“It was a long time ago,” Theodore said in a deep and somber voice.

He could have sworn then that Maggie moved a little more toward him, leaning into him, but perhaps it was just in his imagination. After all, her gaze was still on Cedric.

Every woman we have ever met falls at Cedric’s feet. Now… my wife is just the same.

“Well, perhaps this evening we could change things. Would you play a game with us?” Cedric offered.

“I shall watch.”

“Theo?” Maggie’s use of his nickname at this time made his stomach jerk. She hadn’t used that name in many days now, not since they had argued and he had called himself heartless. “Please play, it is Christmas.”

“We’ll see,” he said sharply, taking a good gulp of his wine. “What other games did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I have plenty of parlor games for us to get involved with. I remember when we were kids, you were great at snapdragon. Have you ever played that game, Your Grace?” Cedric asked Maggie.

“Is that the one where you have to try and grasp raisins you’ve soaked in brandy and set on fire?”

“That’s the one!”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Ah, it’s hilarious,” Cedric guffawed with laughter. “It’s only dangerous if you’re made of flesh and blood though. Theodore here, or Theo, as you sweetly call him, must be made of something else. He never got burnt, not once, yet he won the game every time.”

Theodore had stiffened, his hand still on Margaret’s waist. To his relief, she hadn’t stepped out of his hold yet.

“Are you fond of nicknames? What nickname will you give to me, Your Grace?” Cedric said with flirtation.

Theodore darkened his glare on Cedric. Plainly, his cousin noticed and found great amusement in the idea. He raised his eyebrows at Theodore, as if silently challenging him to say something to rebuke him in front of such a busy room full of people.

Theodore had many words he wished to say, yet each way he could think of saying it would cause a great scene.

“I only give nicknames to my husband,” Maggie murmured calmly.

“Ha! Loyal to a fault. You have found a good one here, Theodore.” Cedric elbowed him good-naturedly. “Are you afraid she’ll run away? You haven’t yet released her.”

Slowly, Theodore dropped his hand from her waist. His fingers burned with the need to touch her again. He was very aware too of the way she started fidgeting now that he had released her.

“How about we play snapdragon then?” Cedric said excitedly. “You can show off your skills?”

“I have not played games in years,” Theodore reminded Cedric.

“It’s Christmas! Surely this is the time of year when you can indulge in your more… playful side. Do you have one?”

“Cedric,” Theodore muttered darkly.

“Am I needling you, my friend?” Cedric’s mischievous smile was too much.

I need to get out of here.

Theodore actually looked around the room, contemplating a way to escape when the door to the drawing room opened. The butler led in someone else to the party and when Theodore saw her face, his glass of wine slipped from his hand.

It was as if everything happened in slow motion. He felt the glass slip, but was too sluggish in movement to reach down and grasp it from the air. The red wine spilt across his trousers, rather reminiscent of blood, as the glass smashed into pieces on the floor.

He felt Margaret’s hand close on his arm, trying to pull him back out of harm’s way, though he did not move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman who had arrived.

She was first greeted by Cedric’s mother, who kissed her on each cheek and clasped her hand.

They are sisters, are they not? But I did not realize…

Theodore’s sounds and reasoned thoughts shut down. He could scarcely make sense of seeing her there. For so long, Catherine had avoided being seen in public anywhere that he was at risk of also being. It was what she had promised long ago, not out of a wish to avoid causing him pain, but to protect herself.

She’d rather run into burning flames than bump into me by accident.

“Theodore, I swear…” Cedric’s voice was now utterly serious, no sense of mischief or playfulness in it. “I swear, I didn’t invite her.”

There was a footman by Theodore’s feet now, trying to tidy up the broken pieces of glass. A voice in Theodore’s voice told him that he should be bending down to help. Afterall, he was the one who caused the mess, but he couldn’t move.

His body had become stone as he watched the woman walk across the room.

Catherine had now seen him. Without blinking, she walked toward him, those gray eyes not pinned on him but on Maggie beside him.

“Theo?” Maggie whispered in his ear. “Theo, what is wrong? What is happening?”

“Cedric,” Theodore muttered. “You swore never to put us together. You know it’s too much of a risk –”

“On my life, cousin, I did not invite her.” Cedric shook his head fervently. “I would not do that to you.”

Theodore didn’t have the capacity to believe or dispute what he said. All he could do was stare as Catherine walked toward him.

At first, there was horror in her expression. Her eyes looked up and down Maggie, then up and down Theodore, too. Then the horror switched to pure fury, her cheeks reddening.

Cedric’s mother tried to halt Catherine from crossing the distance toward them, but whatever Catherine said to her sister defeated her, for she quickly moved around her and carried on toward Theodore.

“What is happening?” Maggie said rather desperately. One of her hands had closed in on Theodore’s arm as she pulled sharply. “Theo, please. Tell me who that woman is.”

“This is not how I wished this to happen.” The words tumbled out of Theodore in a sharp whisper. “I never wanted you to meet her.”

“Who is she?” Maggie asked again.

Theodore tore his gaze away from Catherine’s gray eyes and looked at his wife. Such sadness welled up inside of him, embarrassment that Maggie was about to see this part of him, that the words struggled to form. Somehow, he managed to force them out of his lips.

“Maggie, that is the Dowager Duchess of Thornfield.” He swallowed, his mouth abruptly dry. Maggie was searching his face desperately, her eyes flitting back and forth. “That… is my mother.”