“I was rather surprised to see your ugly mug turn up here. Not that I wasn’t pleased that you chose to attend but what, in God’s name, caused you to leave your precious project? ”
This could be Sebastian’s opportunity to toss out a cautionary clue. “My mother insisted I bring the ring to George. She said he would forget all about it and his intended would go ringless. I’m sure you would have done the same for your dear departed mother.”
“Without doubt,” Danbury agreed easily, notably not commenting upon his sister’s engagement.
“It seems we are to become relations in the near future.” Sebastian made another attempt to hear the viscount’s opinion.
Danbury’s jaw clenched as he turned to peruse the guests who had not yet departed in one of the waiting coaches. “Ah, there, my wife is in need of my assistance. If you’ll excuse me, Rockingham.”
“But of course.” Sebastian rubbed his chin. It would seem Danbury wasn’t overly enthusiastic about his sister’s pending nuptials. The question was, would Maggie heed her brother’s advice?”
The other question was, why was Sebastian concerning himself with such matters when he ought to simply pack up his belongings and turn his horse toward London? He had plans of his own, details he needed to see to in order to remain on schedule.
He’d barely known the woman one week and furthermore, she was spoken for.
By Uncle George.
14
Don’t Thank Me
When the picnic began winding down, Margaret told George to go ahead in one of the carriages. He’d surprisingly offered to walk back down to the manor with her, but she’d refused. He did not really wish to walk all that way, and besides, she had a good deal to think over.
Only a handful of the other guests were returning on foot, and she knew George expected that she would walk with them, but she would not.
Instead, she assisted the last of the servants and then asked them to inform Penelope that she would be later than most. As the farmer’s cart rolled toward the house, she began the descent alone.
She had not expected such declarations from George, nor the attention he’d paid her all afternoon. He’d been surprisingly affectionate, in stark contrast to his behavior the day before, and the day before that.
Although he lacked her fervor for a family, he’d confessed to anticipating that aspect of marriage. Furthermore, he had apologized for making the announcement without speaking to her.
It was everything she’d hoped for and yet she’d felt unsettled all afternoon.
She rubbed her finger where the ring remained stuck and as she did so, hairs on the back of her neck seemed to stand on end. When a large flock of birds took flight from a distant tree and moved in one giant swooping motion, Margaret shivered. The warm air of a few nights before would not be present tonight.
She increased her pace, not really paying attention to the scenery.
George had even gone so far as to attempt to charm little Louella Miracle while Margaret had been holding her. The child—a child much like her mother, who never seemed to be afraid of anything—had flinched from George’s fingertips.
Margaret frowned. Of course, he was a stranger to her, and it had been past the children’s naptime. But still…
Staring ahead, she squinted in the distance when she caught sight of the silhouette of a man approaching. She wasn’t afraid, as this was her brother’s land and the gait, the swing of his arms, and the physique were all familiar.
“You should not be out here alone.” Sebastian scowled at her
Margaret hated the turmoil his arrival had brought to her life. She hated that she no longer saw her future clearly. She also hated that she had begun to crave his company.
“I do quite well alone,” she groused.
“I realize you feel the need to assert yourself on occasion but it’s getting dark, and I was concerned when you didn’t return with the others.”
“I am fine. I sent word to Penelope.” He had been worried? About her? She bent over to pick a few fading marigolds. “You mustn’t concern yourself for me, My Lord. I have managed to survive three decades now without you to watch over me. I imagine I’ll survive three or four more.”
He halted where she’d stopped and ran one hand through his hair. “Sebastian,” he corrected her.
“Sebastian.” She said his name on an exhale. He did not meet her eyes but rather stared off to the side. “You should not worry about me.” Her irritation evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. It was not his fault that she couldn’t make sense of her feelings.
Or was it?
