Twenty-Four
The manor felt empty as Margot walked its halls.In truth, it has always felt empty. Only today… that same sense of emptiness feels different, somehow. Exacerbated. More pronounced.Or perhaps I am finally starting to accept its permanence.
She had woken this morning to the same sadness that had rocked her to sleep the night before. She had bathed and dressed with the same crushing sense of dread. And when she had finally found the courage to break her fast, a small part of her hoping that Sebastian would be there waiting for her, she had very nearly fallen to her knees as the hollow pit in her stomach enveloped and suffocated her.
He was not at the breakfast table. Worse, he was not in the manor at all.
Margot had asked the butler waiting on her where the duke had gone, and his only answer was that Sebastian had beenseen leaving with the rising sun, no word spoken concerning his destination.
He is likely at a tavern somewhere. Or maybe he’s just gone for a ride? It doesn’t matter where he went, for the reason is the same. He left because he doesn’t want to see me. And that hurts most of all.
Were things different, Margot might have risen to anger. That Sebastian was blaming her for what had happened was the height of hypocrisy – it was not her fault that Lord Ashcombe had tricked him. It was not her fault that Sebastian had not realized who the man was. His anger should have been directed at him, not her, and that he was acting this way was further proof that he had not changed. And that he never would.
Sadly, Margot simply didn’t have it in herself to find this anger. She was too depressed for that. Too broken. After all she had been through these past few weeks, and having come so close to it finally being over, that the worst had arrived on her doorstep and smashed to pieces the final chance her marriage had…I am past the point of passing blame or finding anger.
In her mind, this was a sign that she could not ignore. Her marriage to the duke was never supposed to be one of happiness. It was never supposed to be more than a marriage of convenience. And to try and fight it was a fool’s errand. Best to give in and accept reality.
And so, she stalked the halls of the manor, letting her sadness take her fully. As she walked, she found herself closing doors,ushering the manor back to the same state as when she had first arrived.No sense pretending that anything has changed.
It was as she started down the stairs and into the foyer that she heard a knock on the front door. She thought to leave it for the staff, but a second knock had her sighing to herself and going to answer it. Whatever it was, it could not make things worse. And besides, she needed the distraction.
But she opened the door, she saw who was standing on the other side, and Margot realized then that as bad as things were, they could always get worse. This was her life, after all.
“You!” she gasped.
“Me,” Lord Ashcombe tittered with glee. “I would ask if you are surprised, but you never were very good at concealing your emotions, were you?”
“Wh – what are you doing here?” Margot took a step back as if she meant to flee.This can’t be happening. This can’t be…“My – my husband! Do not make me call for him. He knows who you are.”
“I suspect he does,” Lord Ashcombe said with sincerity. “Thank you, by the way, for not telling him untilafterwe managed to finish our business together. That was rather kind of you.”
“I did not do it for you!” she hissed. “I… leave, now!” She tried to steal herself. “Do not make me call for my husband.”
“Call all you like,” he said with a shrug. “I know he is not here. He is in London, sitting patiently, waiting for me to arrive at a little meeting his solicitor thought to organize.” He laughed and shook his head. “That they think I am that stupid, why, I almost feel insulted.”
Her face paled, and her stomach sank. “Wh-- what do you want?”
He frowned. “Have you not guessed? My little flower, I thought that might be obvious by now. I want you.”
She gasped and then, finally coming into herself, hurried to slam the door closed in Lord Ashcombe’s face. But she was too slow, and he stepped through the door quickly, blocking it with his foot. “No, no…” He threw the door back open. “That won’t be happening.”
“Please…”
“I have waited so long for this, Margot. You have no idea…” His eyes flashed with wickedness, his hands came up for her, and before she had a chance to think or run or scream, he was on her.
“Why are you doing this?” Margot asked.
“What was that?” Lord Ashcombe was looking through the window of the carriage, his expression hardened with concern.But at the sound of her voice, he closed the curtain and turned back to face her, a crooked smile crossing his thin lips.
“Why are you doing this?” Margot asked again.
The two of them were sitting in the back of a carriage, which itself moved at a steady trot away from Eastmoor Estate. Margot’s hands were bound together, and her ankles were tied. But she sat comfortably on the cushions of the chair, with Lord Ashcombe across from her.
Oh, how I loathe him. His face… his smile… those beady eyes that are devoid of emotion. How I ever thought that he and I might marry. How I had allowed myself to be fooled into thinking he cared for me…a cold shudder ran down her spine, sickened by the memories. Disgusted by how gullible she had once been,
Margot knew Lord Ashcombe to be as conniving an individual as there was, but she did not think that he was a truly evil man. Not so much that she worried he would hurt her. Even as he’d bound her hands and tied her feet, he had apologized and assured her it was merely a precaution. It made this situation confusing, and still she could not puzzle through what was going on – where this might end.
“Would you believe that I am doing this for us?” Lord Ashcombe said, fluttering his eyelashes as if trying to seduce her. “Would that be so hard to fathom?”
