“Tell me more about your trip.”
Margaret sipped her tea, then helped herself to a tart. “I spent most of my time with Mr. Wilcot’s mother. She is a kind woman. It was nice to have a reprieve for a few months.”
“And when not with his mother?” I pressed.
Margaret’s brows furrowed, but she hesitated to respond. Her reluctance was answer enough, and I sat back against the cushion with a huff.
“I am fine, Annette. Truly, it was not so bad. Things were better.”
“Only because you were not forced to spend every waking moment with him. I imagine he did not wish for his dear mother to know of his faults. Of his disgusting behavior. Bruises would have raised suspicion, though I wonder if even Mrs. Wilcot would say anything to hercharming boy.”
I spat the phrase as though it were rotten meat. Mrs. Wilcot had praised her son on several occasions before he and Margaret wed. Praise far from deserved.
“That is not fair to her,” Margaret said quietly, clasping her hands in her lap. “She does not know how he is now.”
“Are you certain? I find it difficult to believe he was not like this before your wedding. This change is not the consequence of your marriage. I refuse to let you believe that.”
Margaret winced but did not deny the accusation. She believed herself responsible for the dramatic change in her husband. He had seemed the perfect gentleman during their courtship—kind and charming, always ready with an easy compliment and words more poetic than Byron could create. He hadseemedto love her.
All of it had been a lie, an act to deceive Margaret into accepting him.
My jaw clenched. “Something must be done.”
Margaret sighed. “You know as well as I that there is nothing to be done. And even if there were another course, I am not certain I would take it.”
Exasperation filled my tone. “You cannot mean to say you still love him? After everything he has done?”
Margaret pulled in her lips. Part of me wished to scream—to demand she see reason. But screaming would not help Margaret, and it would not do for the servants to overhear our conversation. Although, I doubted any of them were unaware of their master’s nature.
“Enough about me,” said Margaret. “I wish to hear all about your first Season. Did any gentleman catch your eye?”
Memories of a dark alley filled my thoughts, but I pushed them away. “No, I cannot say they did. London is as dull as I predicted; the gentlemen worse than I anticipated. Honestly, my parents wasted far too many pounds on my coming out. A dinner here with our family and close friends would have sufficed.”
Margaret’s shoulders slumped. “All that time in Town and not a single moment of excitement to share with me? I confess myself disappointed.”
I leaned closer to her, lowering my voice. “Fear not, I did have a little excitement. You recall the agreement I made with my parents?”
“Yes, of course. You were determined to see it through, and it seems you have held up your end.” Margaret smirked. “Unless you wish to tell me you are engaged?”
Hah! I had escaped such a demise, but not without difficulty. Before leaving for Town, I had struck a bargain with my parents. If I gave any potential suitor a chance to win my regard this year, they would not force me to attend another Season. Additionally, Father promised to grant the sum of my dowry as an inheritance, thus allowing me the independence I sorely desired.
It was an agreement worth enduring for such a great reward. At least, I had thought so until dozens of men descended upon me in our London townhouse and sought me out at parties and balls. The entire ordeal had been exhausting.
I scooted closer to Margaret. “Rus, being the traitor of a brother that he is, thought it quite the lark to send every eligible gentleman to call on me. It became so burdensome that I was required to enact a rather unsavory plan.”
“What sort of plan?” Margaret whispered back, her eyes wide with intrigue.
“I made an arrangement with a gentleman. Since both of us wished to avoid courtship, we entered into a fake one. Together.”
Margaret gasped, and I pressed on. “We simply allowed thetonto see us together and draw their own conclusions. And with perfect results, I might add. There were far fewer callers, and Lieutenant—”
“A lieutenant!” Margaret interrupted. “Navy or army?”
“Navy, but I hardly see why that should matter. We have ended our ruse, and I am certain to never see him again. And good riddance, too. He was the most irksome man of my acquaintance.”
A flash of his smile barged into my thoughts, and I scowled. Irksome man, indeed.
“Well, you survived his charm and that of the rest of theton, I daresay,” said Margaret. “When shall your Father issue your dowry?”
