“Because I’m your sister.” Amelia stepped inside and closed the door, locking it behind her. “Now tell me everything.”
Margaret walked over to the window, staring outside at the street. “I feel as if I’m going to be a spinster for the rest of my life. I’m never going to have children of my own, and there won’t be anyone for me.” She crossed her arms around her waist as if trying to hold back the tears. “It’s so hard to see Victoria and Juliette with their babies.”
The heartbreak in her sister’s voice was wrenching. Amelia knew how much it meant to Margaret to have a family of her own. Season after Season, she’d tried her best to find a suitable gentleman. But after Lord Lisford had spurned her, most men had kept their distance. Although her sister wasn’t truly ruined, Margaret had been publicly humiliated. And her sharp tongue hadn’t made matters any easier in the forthcoming years.
Amelia’s eyes welled up as she went to stand beside her sister. “I’m certain there’s someone for you. We’ll find him.”
And she truly did mean that. She wanted Margaret to be happy and have a softhearted husband she could manage. Possibly the earl, if she could arrange it. The mandidhave a daughter already. Margaret could be a wife and a stepmother in one day, if Lord Castledon suited her.
“No one wants me anymore,” her sister said, wiping her eyes. “It’s been too long.”
“The viscount wanted you a few years ago,” Amelia pointed out. “Hedidask you to marry him.” The twinge in her conscience poked again, that the man of her dreams was the man who had destroyed Margaret’s hopes.
“He said it was a wager,” her sister whispered. “He offered to wed me because a friend dared him to ask. For one hundred pounds, he pretended he wanted my hand in marriage, when the truth was, he never cared a whit for me.”
Amelia had never known about any sort of wager, and it bothered her to hear it. Was that true? Or had Lord Lisford simply made up the story as a way of crying off? This was treacherous ground, splitting sides between her sister and the man she cared about.
“I don’t think the two of you were suited,” she said slowly. “It was probably for the best.”
“But you believeyouare meant for him?” Her sister looked incredulous. “He plays on women’s feelings, Amelia. He knows what to say and how to say it, to get what he wants. I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”
A tingling sensation caught at the back of her neck, but Amelia refused to believe that the viscount could be lying. She’d seen the warmth in his eyes, and he’d never failed to make her smile. “I don’t want this to come between us,” she said to Margaret. “I want you to find the right man.”
“A boring man, you mean,” Margaret countered. “An old man who doesn’t care who he weds, so long as she will lie still beneath him and bear him a son.”
She’d never heard her sister speak of such things, and it shocked her that Margaret had even thought about what went on between a husband and a wife. “You deserve better than that.”
“What man will have me now?” Margaret wept. “I’m old.” She fumbled for a handkerchief and faced Amelia. “Do you know how it feels to have followed all the society rules? I never once did anything I shouldn’t. I never went anywhere unchaperoned, I never gossiped or did anything to embarrass our parents. And what did it get me? Nothing but spinsterhood.”
The wild look in Margaret’s eyes was making Amelia uneasy. Her sister looked desperate, as if she were about to do something rash.
“Why don’t you make a new list?” Amelia suggested. “You used to do that when you were thinking about husband possibilities.”
“What good is a list when none of the men are interested in anything but my dowry?” Margaret took her handkerchief and blew her nose. “I’ve heard them talking behind my back, Amelia. I know what they say about how priggish I am.”
“You’re not. You’re just…very proper.”
Her sister leaned against the window. “I thought if I obeyed all the rules, I would find the best husband. But I was wrong.”
“Therewasone man who was interested in you,” Amelia reminded her, thinking of Cain Sinclair. “But you never wanted him.”
Margaret turned sober. “He wasn’t appropriate. He’s not a nobleman.”
“No, but Mr. Sinclair liked you. You were different around him. Not quite so proper.”
Margaret stared off into the distance. “It doesn’t matter. That was years ago, and I told him that I could never marry a man like him. He hasn’t spoken to me since.”
“He asked you tomarry him?” Now here was a bit of delicious news she’d never heard before. Her sister…and a Scot? Her mind started to put them together, but it wouldn’t fit. Mr. Sinclair might have been ruggedly handsome and wicked, but he was also a manwho couldn’t care less about society rules. Not to mention, he lived in utter poverty.
But when Margaret had been hurt a few years ago, Sinclair had carried her home. Even the mention of it made her sister blush, making Amelia wonder exactly what had happened that day.
“No, he didn’t ask me to marry him. Not exactly,” Margaret admitted. “It was more of a demand. He was trying to stop me from marrying the viscount. I…said some things I shouldn’t have.”
Amelia let out a heavy sigh. It was rather romantic to think that the Highlander had tried to stop the wedding. Perhaps he wanted Margaret for himself. But then again, a man like Mr. Sinclair wasn’t appropriate to marry. Evensheknew that, no matter how interesting the idea was. “What about the Earl of Castledon?” she suggested. “You were dancing with him earlier.”
“No, he’s not for me. I’ve thought about it, but Lord Castledon isn’t over his wife’s death. You can see it in his eyes.”
“He still wants to remarry,” Amelia said. “I’m going to help him find someone.”
