He had prepared arguments, but he quickly abandoned them. There was no victory to be had in pressing further, in hurting her further.
“There was a reason.”
“Then speak it.”
“I cannot do so here.”
Her anger flared again.
“Of course not.”
“It has never been spoken beyond one house,” he said. “Not to society. Not to anyone who would repeat it.”
She watched him carefully now, anger giving way to suspicion.
“I intended to tell you before any formal declaration,” he continued. “Last night destroyed any hopes of that.”
“And now?”
“Now I ask you to come with me.”
“To Ravensmere?”
“No. To another household of mine.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“Why?”
“Because the truth resides there. If you hear it and choose to refuse me, I will not try to change your mind. I will take responsibility for what I did, and I will support your family as I promised.”
She searched his face, as though looking for signs of coercion. He gave her none.
“I ask you to come with me,” he repeated. “Nothing more.”
Outside the windows, a carriage passed. Somewhere down the street, a door closed sharply. London was already forming its version of events. Inside the room, everything waited on her decision.
Margaret stood very still for several seconds after he finished speaking. The anger had not vanished, but it no longer burned uncontrolled. It settled into something quieter, more deliberate.
“If I come,” she said at last, “I expect the truth.”
“You shall have it.”
She nodded once. He did not thank her. He simply crossed to the door and opened it. Lady Fairleigh stood in the corridor, her expression tight with restraint.
“I will return shortly,” Margaret said.
Lady Fairleigh looked at Nathaniel, then back to her daughter. Whatever passed between them required no speech. She seemed to trust him, and he was grateful for that, at least.
The carriage ride passed in near silence. Nathaniel did not attempt conversation. He watched the city recede beyond the window as they turned toward the outskirts of London, where streets widened and houses grew more far apart. Margaret sat opposite him, hands folded, gaze steady though distant.
When the carriage slowed at last, they stood before the modest but well-kept house set back from the road. No crest adorned the door. No footman waited in livery. It was all deliberate, and he knew she could sense that. Nathaniel stepped down first and turned to assist her. She accepted his hand without comment. The entrance hall was simple, even more than that of FairleighHouse. Before he could speak, a door at the end of the corridor opened.
Eliza stepped forward.
She was pale– too pale. Her hands trembled where they clasped before her. Fear flickered openly across her face at the sight of a stranger, even though she knew who Miss Fairleigh was.
Margaret stopped walking, her anger dissolved at once and replaced by startled understanding. Eliza’s gaze darted to Nathaniel.
