The year before, Margaret had been a guest at the Ravendale’s country estate, but she’d not had many occasions to see the family this Season. Rather than attending all the garden parties and musicales that she had in the past, she’d spent a good deal of her time at three separate foundling hospitals. When she had attendedtonevents, Margaret had made the most of them by seeking donations for specific charities and donations of used goods for the children.
She’d quickly discovered that not all of London’s elite were apathetic to the plight of the poor. Some simply did not understand the extent of it, as had been the case for her, but wanted to do something to make a difference through funding if nothing else.
Margaret smiled to herself as the carriage edged along. It was a wonder anyone invited her anywhere again. She was becoming known as something of a zealot for the poor.
She even imagined that Sebastian might have been proud of her.
She’d not received any more letters since she’d asked him not to write and often found herself regretting having done so. The absence of his letters hadn’t done a thing to keep him from dwelling in her heart. She wondered if anything ever would.
She smoothed her gown and blinked. She and Sebastian hadn’t required elaborate balls to experience romance. Ah, no. He’d managed to make her feel beautiful without the benefit of beautiful dresses and music and chandeliers lit with candles hanging from the ceiling.
She almost laughed out loud when she remembered him barging into her room while she’d had the fard smeared all over her face. Forgetting him had not become any easier.
She stared at her hands in her lap and grimaced. She was going to attend the most elaborate ball of the year wearing one of last year’s gowns. It was a high-waisted canary silk with gold overlay and embroidered dandelions along the bodice and hem. Some would most assuredly notice and remark upon it, but she didn’t care.
She’d been so busy as of late that she’d not had time to visit her favorite dressmaker. She’d considered having a new one made up but in the end, believed the funds could be far better used on new books for one of the schools.
Even tonight, she intended to make an early exit. She was due at the hospital early in the morning and meant to spend what time she had catching up with friends she’d neglected all Season long.
She was not planning to dance, nor to flirt, nor listen to any unessential gossip. Last year, her priorities had been so very different, but she would not regret them. If she hadn’t met George, she wouldn’t have met Sebastian. If she hadn’t met Sebastian, she doubted she would have come to know herself so well—her needs—and she wouldn’t have realized that her needs were best met by helping those less fortunate—children and families who assumed they had been forgotten.
She’d known a warm and comfortable love with her husband. She’d been content and she’d been… safe. She had also been naïve, self-centered, and somewhat selfish.
Ironically, her time with Sebastian, a younger man, a charming and ambitious man, had made her realize that she could be a better woman. He’d shown her that passion didn’t have to have rules or limits or be stifled. It was something she could experience in the full light of day and without fear or shame.
He’d shown her how to live. And she loved him for it.
What was he doing tonight? Had he met a pretty American girl and fallen in love? He’d never lack for female attention. She raised her fist and pressed it to her aching heart. Because it did ache. It ached differently than when she’d lost Lawrence.
When she’d lost Lawrence, she had lost a very dear friend. When she’d lost Sebastian, she’d lost a part of herself.
At last, the carriage pulled to a full stop at the entrance to Burtis House and after gathering her reticule and fan, Margaret allowed the footman to assist her to the pavement.
No one ever attended a ball alone. She had never done it herself nor had she known anyone who had—who wasn’t a male, that was.
All of it felt different. Set directly across the street from Hyde Park, the mansion resembled more of a country estate than a London townhouse. Iron gates surrounded the landscaped lawn and statues and fountains flanked the entranceway. The mansion was lovely, but it wasn’t magical.
She’d known magic last autumn and wondered if she’d ever know it again.
“Lady Asherton.” Margaret turned at the sound of her name and, for an instant, forgot to breathe. The Duchess of Standish had called out her name, but it was the man standing beside her who nearly stole Margaret’s breath.
Sebastian’s father. Ah, and the younger man, Andrew. He must be Sebastian’s brother. Both had the same dark hair, although the duke’s was peppered with gray, and they had the same sturdy build, the same chiseled profiles. They had different eyes, though, blue instead of silver, and Lord Andrew’s lips seemed fuller
“Your Grace.” Margaret dipped into a curtsey as she waited for her heart to begin beating again. “Your Grace.” And then she turned to the man who must be Lord Andrew. “My Lord.”
“Standish, darling, this is the young woman I was telling you about.”
The duke’s eyebrow cocked, and he smiled. “The young woman who made a lucky escape. I’m pleased to finally meet you, Lady Asherton.” Oh, but his voice sounded so very much like Sebastian’s. His face was longer than Sebastian’s, but his mannerisms were similar, as was his build.
“The honor is mine, Your Grace.”
“My brother regards you highly.” Lord Andrew bowed over her hand. “And my uncle is a fool.” If anyone else had brought up her broken engagement, Margaret might have been embarrassed, if not irritated, but Sebastian’s family apparently knew the truth and if nothing else, they seemed to be… happy for her.
“Have you heard from Lord Rockingham?” She nearly kicked herself for asking.
“He’s been a most inconsiderate son,” the duchess answered. “I haven’t received even a brief letter for six weeks now. To be honest, I try not to think about it.”
“He’s fine, Mother.” Lord Andrew’s eyes danced.
