“You cannot oversee my future forever.”
“No,” Margaret replied. “But I can help shape it.”
Poppy studied her, then leaned forward and embraced her suddenly Margaret stiffened only for a moment before returning it.
“You always take care of us,” Poppy murmured.
Margaret closed her eyes briefly.
“I intend to continue.”
When Poppy drew back, her expression had softened into something almost solemn.
“I hope I marry for affection,” she said.
Margaret held her gaze.
“You will,” she said.
After Poppy slipped from the room, Margaret remained standing by the window. Miss Eliza still lingered at the edge of her thoughts, but Poppy’s words had shifted something. If marriage was a negotiation, she would ensure she got the very best deal. If it was for protection, she would ensure it extended beyond herself. And if preference was involved…
She straightened. If that were the case, then she would not be merely suitable. She would be indispensable.
The following morning, Margaret woke before the maid knocked.
For a moment she did not remember why her thoughts felt so alert. Then the house returned to her in fragments–Ravensmere’s staircase, the polished floors, the name spoken in the entrance hall.
Miss Eliza.
It hovered briefly at the edge of her mind, but she did not allow it to take root. Instead, she sat up, drew back the curtains herself, and let the pale morning light spill across the room. The day was clear, which given that she was to attend a garden party was a good sign.
If there were whispers to be silenced, she decided that she would silence them herself, if the Duke did not do so for her of course. Her maid entered soon after, surprised to find her already awake.
“You are early, Miss.”
“I am excited, I suppose.”
The gown chosen for the day lay across the chair, pale green, fitted perfectly. It was one of the new ones, and her personal favorite. She dressed without hesitation. By the time she descended, Emily was already at the breakfast table, a book open but unread before her.
“You seem prepared for battle,” Emily observed.
Margaret paused, looking at herself in the mirror.
“Is that how I appear?”
“Yes.”
“That was not the intention.”
“It rarely is.”
Margaret took her seat opposite her.
“Do you disapprove of it?”
“On the contrary, I think it is perfect. I have wanted you to dress as though you belonged for a long time now, Margaret, and I am thrilled that you are beginning to do so.”
“Then why do you seem so wary of everything?”
