“Yes.” She exhaled loudly. “Lawrence was ill for a long time. He was very ill, bedridden, for several months. He passed on the day I turned six and twenty.”
“Ah...” And yet her sister-in-law and brother had expected her to be celebratory. Margaret had been a good sport about it. She’d laughed and smiled and done her best to encourage frivolity.
“No. I told Penelope this, but she and Hugh have been trying to encourage me to be…happier,I suppose. She is a person who, when she wants something, simply takes it. Not in a bad way, but my brother’s wife is very driven. She always has been. She believes that if a person simply acts as though they are happy, they will become happy. And it is partially true. But…”
“You had no choice but to go along with all of it.”
“No.”
But she had told him that October broughta seriesof unfortunate anniversaries. “What else?” he prompted her again. She was trying to explain something to him, and the manor was coming into sight.
“I told you that I was born a twin.” Again, she surprised him with what seemed to be a non-answer. So, he simply waited.
“Andrew was much smaller than I was, but he would have been my father’s heir. He passed one week after we were born, on the twenty-first. The physician said that he had not developed properly. My mother told me once that my birthday was bittersweet for her. At the time, I didn’t really understand, but I do now. One week after Lawrence died, I lost our child.”
Sebastian swallowed hard. Four years ago, both her husband and her baby had died. But she had lived.
“My mother was with me at Glynde Place through it all and she kept me from losing myself. She refused to allow me to wallow. I don’t know what I would have done without her.” She turned to look at him, and he caught her grimace. “I am not telling you all of this to have your pity. It is because of your question. Why did I want to marry your uncle? Because I want to have a baby—or a chance at one, anyhow.”
Sebastian inhaled a deep breath. He’d assumed this was part of her motivation but not that it had been most of it. Ah, and George had mentioned it to him today as well.
He had touched her intimately. She was thirty years old. George could very likely give her exactly what she wanted. She was an intelligent woman. She would know that all of her wealth would become the property of her husband. Had it been a trade she’d been willing to make?
Because he could not give her what she wanted: a child—a family.
“Have I ruined all of it for you?”
But she was shaking her head. “No… Yes… Maybe.” She gave a rueful laugh. “I’ll admit that I viewed him differently after… After the night you arrived. But there is more to it than that.” She looked away from him.
He was not going to father another child. Ever. If she had expectations of him, she would only be disappointed. “Margaret, I—”
She laughed, a brittle sound. “I do not expect a proposal of marriage so dismiss the panic that has beset you.” She slid her hand out of his arm. They had arrived at the manor and she seemed suddenly anxious to be away from him.
“Thank you.” She turned. “For caring to see that I was not in any danger—although I really was not—walking on my brother’s property. I expect I shall see you later this evening.”
“Margaret. Maggie, I—”
“Thank you, Sebastian.” And with that, she strode purposely away from him.
Sebastian wished there was something nearby that he could punch aside from a stone pedestal. She had no expectations of him. The knowledge ought to please him but instead, it irked him. He’d thought she needed saving. Was he the villain in all of this, after all?
He picked up a stone and threw it into the distance. Surely, he wasn’t jealous of George. Of course, he was not. He picked up another stone and threw it even farther.
“Are you coming in, My Lord?” Milton was holding the door at the top of the steps for him. “Dinner will be served within the hour.”
15
Where, Indeed!
“Which gown would you prefer to wear this evening? The forest silk? I’ve also laid out the violet taffeta.” Esther returned from the dressing room carrying evening gowns that held zero appeal.
Margaret did not want to make herself presentable for the evening’s entertainment. Nor did she wish to sit down for a long drawn out evening meal or make inane conversation. On any other occasion, she was more than happy to listen to Mrs. Spencer’s plans for redecorating her parlor or the cloak Miss Drake was having made up for the holidays. But on this particular evening, she dreaded it.
She must speak to George.
She didn’t quite know what to do about Sebastian.
He had been all that was affable and considerate—affectionate, even— until she’d expressed her deepest desire. The moment he realized that she wanted, more than anything else, to have a family… His expression might haunt her for years to come. Because he had been horrified. Fear had entered those normally laughing eyes of his.
