He leaned forward, allowing his mouth to linger on hers.
“Margaret, are you unwell?” Hugh’s shout carried through the outer door and across the room.
“Go.” She pushed down on Sebastian’s shoulders. He ducked, came out again, kissed her one last time, and then disappeared into the wall.
Margaret assured herself the door had closed all the way, smoothed her gown, and then strolled to where her brother continued banging against the wood. Feigning a yawn, she turned the lock and the door came flying open.
Hugh glanced around and then down at her with narrowed eyes.
She yawned again, this one surprisingly genuine. “I’m sorry, Hugh. I had to get away from everyone. I drank some sherry and drifted off.”
Her brother walked farther into the room toward the hearth and then turned to her with raised brows. Ah, yes. Sebastian had been drinking port. Not one glass but two sat unfinished on the low mahogany table.
“Oh, you won’t need this.” Penelope arrived at the open doorway, holding up a key. When she caught sight of Margaret, she added, “We were worried.”
“No need.” Margaret smiled at both of them in an attempt to be reassuring and strode toward the door. “Has dinner been served already? I’m absolutely famished!”
“Margaret.” Hugh grasped her arm before she could get away from the two of them. She turned and glanced over her shoulder. He’d gone from looking suspicious to concerned. “Are you heartbroken? I did not think you would be, but I realize that women are inclined to change their minds about these things.” He squeezed her arm. “Are you?”
“No, I am not. I am disappointed with him. But I am far more disappointed in myself.” Her words came out sounding strong. It was the truth. Although she had never had great expectations of George in the first place, she’d thought to have a child with him—a family. She’d thought to do so without putting the needs of a child first. And that was the worst of it. Yes. She was most disappointed with herself.
Hugh nodded. “And the ring? It is still missing?”
At this, she winced. Although George had turned out to be a scoundrel of the worst kind, she was not at all keen on losing a ring that had been passed down in his family for generations. “I will keep looking, but yes. Will he make a stink of it, do you think?
Of course, he would make a stink of it. Especially if he had pockets to let.
Hugh clenched his jaw. “He can try.”
“He’d better not or he’ll find himself in court!” Penelope snapped vehemently. In hindsight, Margaret realized that Penelope had not really liked George from the outset.
Hugh released her. “Order a meal to your room, Margaret. It’s probably best that Kirkley isn’t given the opportunity to speak with you about it. Get some rest. He and Rockingham are leaving at sunup, and we can begin to put all of this behind us.”
Margaret nodded. Would Sebastian change his mind? George was his family, after all. And she was merely his… mistress. Despite her newfound bravery, unease crept over her.
She met her brother’s eyes gratefully. “I appreciate your support in all of this.” Hugh was being wonderful about all of it, really. “And, Penelope, I’m sorry that all of this has ruined your party.”
Penelope smiled. “This party shall be remembered throughout the ages.” She laughed. “Do not apologize to me.”
“You are my sister.” Hugh’s voice caught, surprisingly. He’d comforted her after their mother’s death, but aside from that, he and Margaret had not normally been affectionate with one another. And yet, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I only want you to be happy.”
Was she going to be happy? She was going to experience pleasure; she was certain of that. But what of after? After he left?
She pushed the thought away and lifted her chin. “I will be, Hugh.” She forced a determined smile. “I will be.”
Returning to her chamber, Margaret found that Esther had ordered a bath drawn and light fare delivered to her room. After the evening’s vigorous activities in the study, soaking in a hot tub sounded heavenly.
He’d asked if she would be coming to his room later that night and she had said she would. A thrill of anticipation tore through her. The sherry had lent her a boldness she didn’t think she would have had otherwise, but she was not sorry. She was curious and excited about what lay ahead that night.
He’d held her afterward, as though he cared. But they did care for one another. They were friends. And now lovers.
She had never considered herself to be a lover before. He must have had numerous other lovers before her, despite his youth.
He had once been married!
He’d told her that he had loved his wife and mourned her death. Margaret curled her feet beneath her where she sat and waited as the footmen began carrying in the heated buckets of water. Not one glanced at her as they trudged through the room. She noticed a streak of black on one of the men’s faces. They had carried the buckets up from the kitchens.
Who filledtheirbaths? They lived at Land’s End and she’d only glimpsed their quarters once or twice. Years ago, before her marriage. Had they been updated since? They had been dark and sparse, from what she could remember.
