“I personally was not impressed with either. Too much sermonizing, if you ask me.” Lady Sheffield would not hold back her opinion.
“I prefer a good romance over adventure,” Mrs. Spencer piped up from beside Lady Sheffield.
It was a lively discussion overall, but Margaret’s mind wandered in a ridiculous direction. She could almost picture herself married to Sebastian. Him making all the innovations he craved for his father’s estate, while she met with household staff, coming to know about them and their families. She could learn new ways as well.
And a few children at their side.
Theirchildren.
But she mustn’t. They’d already decided their affair would end when the house party was over. It must.
With his hand giving her leg an occasional squeeze, and his eyes frequently landing on her with more than a little warmth, it was difficult to dismiss such dreams completely. She’d drank more than one glass of wine, which was putting this hope in her mind. And she mustn’t allow herself to think that way. She mustn’t allow herself to hope.
Hope was a dangerous thing and often left one sitting in ashes.
By the time Penelope finally rose and suggested that the ladies remove to the drawing room, Margaret burst to her feet and was one of the first to exit.
Because sitting beside him at a meal… Listening to him make conversation with those around them… She could almost imagine him as a husband. She could imagine herself a wife who formally addressed him as “My Lord” all the while remembering the intimacies they had shared.
He was younger than her, but by only six years, and he was not immature. He’d endured loss, pain, and would meet his responsibilities even though his methods might not be very popular.
She could almost imagine that when he glanced at her, she saw love in his eyes.
She recognized those same types of glances between her brother and Penelope, she’d seen them occur between Abigail and Monfort, and last summer, between Rose and Lord Darlington.
And all of those couples loved one another. But they’d had similar dreams for the future. They all wanted the same thing.
Once in the drawing room, she could not sit still. Although autumn was finally making its presence known with cooler temperatures and a biting wind, she slipped outside onto the terrace and made her way toward the garden.
Most of the flowers had died and leaves rustled along the pathways, but the moon was full and as she walked, she finally acknowledged the fact she’d danced around all evening.
She’d fallen in love with him.
* * *
“Wouldyou mind stepping into my study before we join the ladies?” Viscount Danbury spoke behind Sebastian as they exited the long dining Hall. “I’d have a private word with you.”
Ah. It seemed that Lady Danbury had not been able to keep Margaret’s secret.
“Of course.”
When Sebastian entered the study, he wondered exactly how much the man knew? Did he know that Margaret had spent the night in his bed? He glanced toward the sitting area. Danbury could not possibly know that he’d made love to her against this very leather settee.
“Scotch?” Danbury lifted a decanter questioningly.
“Thank you. No.” He’d already had a few glasses of port. Best to keep his wits about him for this conversation.
Nonetheless, the other man poured a healthy splash for himself and downed half of it in one swallow. “My viscountess informed me that you are helping my sister search for your uncle’s ring.”
Sebastian nodded. “It’s on that damn hill. Just a matter of locating it.” Perhaps this conversation wouldn’t be contentious after all. He’d rather not duel with his host… not while the party was still going on anyhow.
“You have shown great (ahem) dedication in your pursuit of it.” Danbury propped himself against the large desk set near the windows. “I was surprised that you did not depart with your uncle.”
It might have been better for Sebastian to have accepted a drink after all. “It is a priceless ring.”
Danbury cocked one doubtful eyebrow.
“I have come to consider your sister a good friend,” Sebastian added.
