Heavens, sheherselfhad thought that they might . . .
But, of course, in the glaring light of Reality, such dreams were simply . . . dreams.
“He will sign the attainder,” Lottie said, her voice quiet. She dared to meet her sister’s gaze. “He does not want the marquisate, Alex said as much—”
“Dr. Whitaker,” Margaret leaned heavily on his proper name, “like most men, may have lied to ingratiate himself with you.”
“No.” Lottie instantly rejected her sister’s words. “No, he did not. He is most sincere. He has been trying to find a way out of assuming the marquisate. You must trust me in this. We arefriends, he and I—”
“Friends?” Margaret’s voice had gone quiet. “Dr. Whitaker cannot be afriend.If anything, we must view him as our enemy.”
“Enemy?!”
“Yes, Lottie,enemy. The situation is dire. Freddie’s future—ourfuture—rests on a knife’s edge. I know you likely think me callous of your own wishes, but I am so terrified for my son.” Margaret sat down beside Lottie, her blue eyes pleading. “Without the marquisate, Freddie’s portion will be too small to provide for him. This is why Papa wanted him to inherit.”
“I fear for Freddie, too.” Lottie wrapped a hand around her sister’s fist. “But there is a tremendous amount of suffering happening on the estate at the moment that must be addressed.”
Lottie told Margaret what they had learned from Mr. Bartlet earlier that day.
If she expected Margaret to be thoroughly dismayed, Lottie was disappointed.
“So there have been some mishaps.” Margaret clutched Lottie’s hand tight. “Frank is still learning how to manage the marquisate, but I am sure that if given time, he will right these issues—”
“These problems are happeningnow, Margaret.”
“Then I will speak with Frank.” Margaret released Lottie’s hand and sat back. “And if Frank will not listen to me, then we will take the matter to Ferndown. The duke is a just man, and Frank will certainly heed his father. There are many solutions here, do you not see?”
Lottie frowned. She didn’t think Frank would magically stop squeezing the marquisate for profits. And would Ferndown interject himself into Lord Frank’s management of the estate? She wasn’t sure.
But Margaret was also correct. Even Alex asserted that there had to be other solutions.
“Please, Lottie. Trust me.” Margaret continued to plead. “You must understand. The King is consumed with foreign affairs and the details of his coronation. Lords is mired in domestic issues. No one in government wants to spare the time to address our problem. Many have made it clear that they wish to side with Dr. Whitaker simply to be done with the mess. After all, awarding the marquisate to him is merely a bit of paperwork, as he is the heir apparent. Devolving the title upon my Freddie requirestwoActs of Parliament—one to attaint Dr. Whitaker’s family and another to create a second incarnation of the Marquess of Lockheade. The matter could drag on foryears. Meanwhile, gossips like Lady Gardner are practically salivating for salacious news. Anything we do that paints us as being friendly to Dr. Whitaker could easily tip the balance in his favor. If we wish Freddie to have any chance at all to inherit, you must cease all ties with Dr. Whitaker immediately.”
Lottie blinked. The truth of her sister’s words cut deep.
Margaret was right.
Alexhadto be banished, cast out of Frome Abbey.
But . . . would his leg suffer damage on the journey? And where would he go? London? And then back to Edinburgh?
Most importantly—would she never see him again?
And why did the very thought cause a jittery panic tothump, thump, thumpagainst her ribcage?
But what else could she do?
“This is your choice, Lottie,” Margaret said, placing a hand over Lottie’s. “You can have Dr. Whitaker as a friend. Or Freddie can inherit the marquisate, as Papa intended. But you cannot have both. Any friendliness on your part will be viewed as a prelude to matrimony. I am pleading with you—sister to sister—to never speak to Dr. Whitaker again.”
Lottie climbed thestairs to the nursery an hour later, feet leaden.
She knew this heavy feeling well. It was an old friend.
Grief.
But it was all twisted this time around.
What did she grieve?
