“You will change your mind,” he taunted her.
She shook her head, dismissing his mocking prediction.
Of course, she would not change her mind. She was a practical, logical, widowed woman who was entering her fourth decade.
So practical, it seemed, that she’d spent the morning rolling around in the grass with a man who, although most affectionate and charming, had not one honorable intention where she was concerned.
“Don’t wait too long,” he called from behind her. “We do not have forever.”
His voice echoed behind her as she strode away, twisting her hands in front of her. He didn’t seem to understand. It was she who didn’t have forever. He had all the time in the world.
17
Dithering
The lawn behind the manor presented a beehive of activity when Margaret returned. The nursery staff and their charges, along with Penelope and Mrs. Spencer and a few of the other guests with children, milled about playing games and enjoying what may be one of the last warm days before winter set in.
“Margaret!” Penelope waved and walked briskly to greet her, carrying one of the twins in each arm. A little over one-year-old, they were practically toddlers now. Margaret took hold of Creighton without hesitation when she arrived.
“You have a little more color today,” Margaret commented. In fact, her sister-in-law hardly resembled the woman from late last night.
“A little sleep does wonders. Did you find it?” Penelope asked without any preamble. “I realized that must have been why you were in Rockingham’s chamber last night. And why else would you disappear at the break of dawn?
Margaret could not help smiling when Creighton’s tiny fingers attempted to locate her teeth. “We did not.”
“We?”
“I,” Margaret corrected. “I did not.”
Narrowed eyes studied her closely, but Margaret chose to give all of her attention to the cherub in her arms.
“You seem to be feeling much better today. Look at that smile!” she cooed.
“Da da da da da da,” Creighton chanted.
“Louella can say ‘mama’ quite distinctly, but my boy is a traitor.”
Creighton was beautiful, and he was going to look just like Hugh. Although Margaret’s heart always ached just a little, she loved being an aunt to these two darlings and was enjoying this visit with them immensely.
“Hugh says that if you cannot find it, we will simply pay him off,” Penelope offered, speaking in low tones.
“Rockingham says it’s priceless,” Margaret said without thinking, distracted as she kissed the baby-soft skin of her nephew’s cheek.
“He hasn’t told George, has he?” Penelope asked. “It is his family’s ring, after all.”
“He has not. He won’t. He is sympathetic.”
“I hadn’t realized the two of you had grown so close.” Penelope raised her brows. “When did this come about?”
But Margaret was saved from answering when Mrs. Spencer approached holding the hand of a little girl, only slightly older than the twins.
“Who is this?” Margaret dropped to her knees, still holding Creighton.
“This is Miss Josephine Eleanor Spencer,” Mrs. Spencer answered proudly. “Josephine, this is Lady Asherton. Can you make your curtsey to her, darling?”
Margaret could not have been any more charmed when the brown-haired child tilted her foot behind her and dropped and bent forward precariously.
“You are quite good at that, Miss Josephine. I believe that you are going to grow up to be a very smart little girl. Are you enjoying the house party?” Margaret took several minutes to enjoy the children sitting in the grass, asking silly questions and playing even sillier games.
