P.S. Your Mr. Hudson is a gem. I hope you will give him and Miss Helen your blessing.
His heart beat hard. Erratic. What had she gone and done? What had he done, in not making his feelings and hopes clear? In not promising to do all in his power to help her, so she would not think she had to face Sterling Benton on her own?
He felt someone’s scrutiny and glanced up to find Robert Hudson hovering on the threshold, eyeing him cautiously.
Hudson held a second letter in his hand. He raised it as though he were bidding at an auction. “In her letter to me, she wrote that Betty Tidy deserves a rise in wages.” He glanced down at the lines. “And that I should hire a Joan Hurdle from Hayfield to replace her.” Hudson looked up at him once more. “What did she tell you?”
Nathaniel blinked. “That I ought to allow you to marry my sister.”
Hudson’s eyebrows rose high. “Did she indeed?”
“Indeed.”
Nathaniel wanted nothing more than to call for his horse and give chase immediately, but he could not leave. Not yet.
Lord, please protect her from Benton. And don’t let her do anything foolish before I can get there.
He who is not a good servant
will not be a good master.
—Plato
Chapter 33
Taking the first wages she had earned in her life, Nora Garret walked into Maidstone’s Star Hotel and purchased coach fare for London. In the small women’s lounge off the hotel’s dining parlor, she shed her apron, wig, and cap, and carefully tucked her father’s spectacles into her carpetbag.
Several minutes later, Margaret Elinor Macy emerged in a plain but serviceable blue dress, shawl, bonnet, and gloves, her blond hair pinned simply to the crown of her head. How light and free she felt without the wig and cap. How strangely vulnerable.
Soon her coach was called and Margaret went out to meet it. The guard handed her in, and she settled herself on the bench opposite an old cleric and his wife. She smiled politely but then closed her eyes to avoid conversation. She needed to think.
She spent the trip in catnaps and self debate, wondering if she had done the right thing in leaving Fairbourne Hall, and if she had any hope of preventing Caroline’s nuptials. She was determined to offer Sterling the majority of her inheritance if he would forbid Marcus to marry Caroline. If he refused, she would even offer to marry the mongrel herself, in her sister’s stead, hopefully with a reasonable marriage settlement. Though she prayed it would not come to that.
———
When the stagecoach reached London several hours later, the route ended at an inn some distance from Berkeley Square.
Margaret hired a hack to take her to Emily Lathrop’s house first. She wondered if the runner she had met—or someone like him—would be loitering about the place, watching for her. But all was quiet. She might have thought Sterling had given up, if not for that recent engagement announcement. Paying runners had likely grown too expensive and he had simply changed his methods.
The Lathrops’ footman admitted her, but before he could even announce her, Emily ran out into the hall.
“Margaret, what a relief! I despaired of ever seeing you again.” Emily embraced her warmly and led her into the drawing room. “I was so glad to receive your letter. I shared it with your family as well. I had no choice, really. Father mentioned it to Sterling, and he insisted on seeing it.”
“I suppose he denied everything?”
“Yes.” Her friend hesitated. “And considering recent events...”
“Recent events” meaning Marcus’s engagement to her sister, no doubt. So much for the man’s “desperate” determination to marry Margaret, as she had described in her letter.
Margaret didn’t stay long—only long enough to assure her old friend she was well and to assure herself that someone knew she was returning to Berkeley Square. As irrational as the thought might be, she didn’t want Sterling to be tempted to make her “disappear” all over again, this time permanently, to get his hands on her inheritance at last.
Emily offered to go with her. Margaret thanked her but refused. She felt she must face him alone.
“Well, I insist on sending you the rest of the way in our carriage, at least.” Emily said, asking the footman to alert the groom and coachman.
While they waited, Emily took Margaret’s hand and asked cautiously, “So... you have heard the news about Marcus Benton?”
Margaret nodded.
