Thomas stepped near and took the pigeon from her, whispering for her to next bring in the sweetbreads. In the servery she could still hear the humiliating conversation.
“But if that were the case, the family would have heard from her by now,” Lavinia Saxby insisted. “And we would have heard of a missing gentleman as well.”
Saxby considered. “Then perhaps she has been abducted. Or worse.”
“Never say so,” Lavinia protested.
Margaret returned from the servery and stood at the rear of the dining room, holding a silver serving dish of sweetbreads at the ready.
Lewis leaned back, all elegant nonchalance. “Be careful what you say about Miss Macy,” he warned. “Nathaniel here was quite besotted with her once upon a time.”
“Were you indeed?” Miss Lyons asked, brows arched high.
Nathaniel fidgeted. “That was a long time ago. Before I sailed for Barbados.”
Saxby smirked. “Some say that was why you left the country.”
“I left because my father asked me to, Mr. Saxby.”
“Nate here is the dutiful son.” Lewis winked. “Or was.”
“I don’t imagine Margaret was very happy when her mother married Sterling Benton so soon after Mr. Macy’s death,” Helen mused. “And even less so when Benton sold their family home.”
“To give up some rural cottage for a chance to live in Berkeley Square with Sterling Benton?” Miss Lyons scoffed. “I’d say she had not a thing to complain about.”
Nathaniel’s expression hardened. “Then you did not know Stephen Macy, nor Lime Tree Lodge, if you think Sterling Benton or Berkeley Square could compare favorably with either of them.”
Margaret’s throat tightened to hear Nathaniel say so.
“So what do you say, Nate,” Saxby asked. “Has some harm befallen Miss Macy, or has she gone off on a lark?”
Nathaniel flicked a glance across the room—toward her? “Miss Macy was headstrong and impulsive when I knew her years ago. And I imagine she is headstrong and impulsive now.”
Embarrassment flushed through Margaret.
Saxby goaded, “Impulsive, as in throwing you over for a chance at Lover Boy Lewie here?”
Margaret’s vision blurred and she felt herself sway.
“Piers, really,” Miss Lyons murmured disapprovingly.
Likely hoping to bring the subject to less volatile ground, Lavinia said quickly, “I wonder if there is any truth to the rumor that Margaret will inherit a great—”
Crash.The silver serving dish slipped from Margaret’s fingers. All heads turned her way. She swiftly turned and bent to begin picking up the mess, self-conscious at having her backside taken in by so many pairs of eyes. In a moment, Fiona was on her haunches beside her, scooping up the sweetbreads and sending her an empathetic grimace.
Mr. Arnold spoke up. “I’m terribly sorry, sir.”
“No matter, Arnold,” Nathaniel said. “These things happen.”
Face burning, Margaret retreated belowstairs.
———
Nathaniel glanced toward the servery door. The uncomfortable conversation continued, though its subject had disappeared from sight.
“I only met Miss Macy once,” Barbara Lyons said. “At the Valmores’ ball. And she did seem desperate enough to elope. For she all but begged a partner. I nearly felt sorry for her.”
“If she wanted a partner,” Saxby said, “she had only to turn to Marcus Benton, who was at her heel all night, like a besotted hound.”
