“I see,” Margaret said with no small amount of subtle amusement. “And do you agree with your father? When he first arrived, you were rather against the man. Has something changed?”
So many things had changed. I had never felt so conflicted. Where once my decisions about my future were firm as stone, now they wavered as a branch in a storm. I wanted independence, but I was coming to realize more and more the costs of it.
When I did not respond, Margaret grabbed my hand. “Come, sit down. Let us talk over tea.”
I still had no appetite, but I allowed her to guide me to the sofa. Once tea was served, Margaret repeated her question, and this time, I knew she would not permit my avoidance. To be irritated by this would mark me a hypocrite. How often did I persist in questioning her about her marriage and Mr. Wilcot’s treatment until she gave in and offered the details? It was only fair that her interrogation held the same insistence.
I fingered the edge of my teacup. “I do not want to marry—no, I do not want towantto marry.” The ridiculous wording made me cringe. Margaret would forgive my inelegance, though.
“So, you are considering it but remain resistant?” She sipped her tea, watching me intently.
“Not considering it, necessarily. Or…well, I suppose I am, but not because of Lieutenant Paget specifically.” I grimaced. “That is not true; it is specifically because of him, but not for the reasons you might assume. I am not in love with the man.”
My chest squeezed, but I ignored it. Admiration. Logical admiration—that was what I felt, nothing more.
Margaret nodded, though the twinkle in her eyes did not suggest she believed me. “What is the reason, then?”
“As much as I want independence, I’ve realized that such a life has consequences. I do not mind being on my own, but I do fear the loneliness that will eventually come with it. For now, I have my parents and my siblings. Some day, they will each have families of their own, and I wonder where that shall leave me. To be honest, the idea of children appeals to me more than I realized.”
“You would require a husband for that,” Margaret pointed out. “At least, you would if you wish your reputation to remain intact.”
“Indeed,” I said with a chuckle. “That is the unfortunate truth.”
Margaret placed a hand on her stomach, and a warm smile lifted her lips. “Even a marriage such as mine would be worth it, I think. I have always longed to be a mother.”
The desire for children was not something I could claim until recently. Perhaps it was a combination of Father’s poor health and realizing my brothers and sister would likely one day wed. They would have families. Even the recent marriages of my cousins, Amelia and Grace, played a role in my reconsideration. They were nauseatingly happy with their spouses and proof that not every marriage was fraught with lies.
But my fears persisted. How could they not when, each time I visited Margaret, I was reminded that not every marriage turned out so well. Not always did love prevail, and sometimes people said and did things simply for their own gain. There were never guarantees that any match would result in happiness.
And I had proven incapable of discerning which matches would be filled with happiness and which would not.
I shook away my thoughts. “How are you feeling, by the by? I should have asked that the moment I arrived.”
Margaret swatted the question away. “Oh, I am perfectly well. The sickness has been tolerable and not something I even desire to discuss. You still have not told me why Lieutenant Pagetspecificallyhas made you consider marriage.”
I laughed. “You are relentless! Perhaps I do not wish to tell you.”
It was good to see Margaret smiling so much. “That is a lie, Annette Apsley. You are desperate to confide in someone. I could sense it the moment you walked through the door. Now, as your best friend and confidante, I demand an answer.”
“What can I say? The man may tease me, but I know him to be an honorable gentleman. We share the same ideals, and he gets on well enough with my family. He has no great amount of wealth, but his income is sufficient to sustain us. Father approves of him.” I shrugged. “But I suppose what is most important is that I do not think he would ever…”
My eyes darted to Margaret, and my words trailed off. Despite my unfinished sentence, Margaret smiled wryly in understanding. “You do not think he would be demanding.”
Demanding was not precisely the word I would use, but I had realized long ago that Margaret did not often admit, even to herself, how controlling and horrendous her husband could be. I suspected much of it was a form of self-preservation—denial, as if lingering on the truth of her circumstances might drain the little happiness she managed to find.
“Yes,” I agreed, unwilling to burden her with more. “He values freedom. A man who does so surely would not inhibit my own.”
Margaret nodded. “He sounds like a wise choice for you if ever there was one.”
“Perhaps. Although, he did not seem particularly fond of me riding bareback or finding me with my hair in disarray. I may be too wild for his tastes.”
“What makes you think he is not fond of it?”
“He has found me in such a state more than once and stared at me with such…I cannot even describe it. He cannot like the idea of a wife who would behave so improperly, especially if he means to involve himself deeply in politics. I would be a stain against him.”
Margaret’s lips twitched. “I would not discount his staring just yet. At any rate, you can act the part of a lady when it is required of you. I am certain he never saw you uncouth while in Town.”
“I suppose that is true.” I met Margaret’s gaze. “This is all nothing more than talk, you understand? It is not as though the man has proposed to me. Or has any inclination to.”
