“Yes, miss. Three letters.”
She shuffled through them, mood sinking. None from Maidstone.
Murdoch cleared his throat. “And several gentlemen have called for you as well. I told them you were out, but one insisted on waiting. I’ve put him in the morning room.”
Margaret’s heart leapt. “Who is it?”
He handed her several calling cards on a silver salver. She flipped through them, her elation fading. She wasn’t interested in any of these men. None were Nathaniel Upchurch.
Serve one another in love.
—Galatians 5:13
Chapter 34
Margaret and her mother planned a simple evening party for Margaret’s upcoming birthday. She didn’t want anything lavish, nor many guests. Just her family and Emily Lathrop. Gilbert would remain at school until Christmas, but Caroline had come home for good. She was as educated and finished as Miss Hightower could make her, apparently. Margaret was glad to have her under the same roof once more.
Margaret returned to Mr. Ford’s offices on the afternoon of her birthday. She was relieved the waiting was over but was not as thrilled about the fortune as she had expected. This was partly due to all the unwanted attention she was receiving over it from would-be suitors. And partly due to the complete lack of attention from the only suitor she wanted.
Mr. Ford greeted her warmly but with a reserve that told her the news about her special request was not good.
“I looked into the matter as you requested. But I am afraid I was unsuccessful. Ironically, Lime Tree Lodge has recently been for sale. Several interested parties placed bids, including a new clergyman determined to acquire it as his vicarage. The sale was finalized before I could enter a bid on your behalf. I am sorry.”
So close.Tears pricked her eyes. “Well. Thank you for trying, Mr. Ford.”
“I wish I had better news on your birthday.”
She smiled bravely, the gesture pushing the tears down her cheeks.
He asked, “I don’t suppose there are any other properties you would be interested in?”
She shook her head. “Not at present.”
For the next few minutes, he showed her where to sign the rest of the paper work and told her he would let her know as soon as the money was deposited in her name. As she prepared to depart, he congratulated her and wished her every happiness.
“From your lips to God’s ears,” she said, over the lump in her throat.
Upon her return to Berkeley Square, Murdoch met her with yet another salver of calling cards and invitations.
Removing her bonnet, she asked, “Any from Maidstone?”
“I’m afraid not, miss.”
She sighed. “Please tell the gentlemen I am not at home to callers today. I find rejecting them so unpleasant and have no wish to do so on my birthday.”
“Very good, miss. I understand.”
She thanked him and went upstairs without looking at a single card.
Margaret knocked softly on Caroline’s door and entered when bid. Caroline sat at her dressing table, the new maid brushing her hair.
Margaret held out her hand. “Please, allow me.”
The maid handed over the brush, curtsied, and turned to go.
“Thank goodness,” Caroline huffed. “That girl is inept.”
The housemaid faltered, then scurried from the room.
