During the afternoon, Charlotte had come to a conclusion. For Alex’s own safety, she must warn him off. She had to get a letter to him. She’d put him in too much jeopardy by getting caught with his letter in the study.
She also knew that somehow,somehow, she must connect Margaret with Mr. Moxham, or at least try. It was possible Margaret wouldn’t remember him at all, but Charlotte couldn’t go on living her life knowing that Margaret hadn’t been given the answers to the questions of her past, hadn’t found her own happiness.
“Margaret,” she said, “do you read or write?”
“Never learned neither, miss.” Margaret looked down and then kept her focus on Charlotte’s hair.
“I see.” Though unfortunate, in this one circumstance, that was what Charlotte had hoped to hear. “Do you, by chance, have to go to Alnwick tomorrow for Cook? I am wondering if you could deliver a letter for me.”
“Oh yes, miss.”
Charlotte swallowed, knowing by Margaret’s piercing eyes that she could trust the woman. “I know this will be hard for you, but you must deliver the note to the director of the Alnwick Mine. His last name is Jenkins.” She drew a breath and hurried on. “Do not stay; do not answer any questions. And, whatever you do, promise me you won’t tell anyone in this household who the letter is for or who it is from, and you must not let anyone read it. Do you understand?”
Margaret’s brows furrowed, but she raised her chin a degree. “You’ve done so much for me, miss. I can tell this is important to ye, and ye have my word I’ll do it without anyone knowin’.”
“If you’ll just sit here, I will write it quickly.” Charlotte gestured to a side chair near the fire.
Dearest Alex,
This letter has two purposes. One, to provide a way to helpMargaret meet up with your servant Moxham. I entrust you to this task, as I have no ability to contact Moxham. My mother is looking to hire a few more people to help with kitchen and stable duties during the ball next Tuesday. If he is able to help, he might meet Margaret naturally, and if she can see his name and face together, I hope her memory will come rushing back. If that suits Mr. Moxham, please tell him to apply to our house keeper immediately.
Second, I write with a heavy heart to tell you never to come to Otterburn again. We cannot see each other. Christopher came upon me while reading your letter and has sworn to kill you if he sees you again. He is not to be reasoned with, and the more I am around him, the more I know he will follow through with what he says. I simply could not bear it if anything were to happen to you. I beg you to stay away. With so much of my heart, I want it to be otherwise, but we must forget each other and move forward. I love you so very much, but I know this is for the best.
Praying for you,
Charlotte
She’d never finished a letter mentioning prayer, but Alex had told her that God did care, and if anyone needed prayer right now, it was certainly Alex. Once she signed her name, she blotted the paper and folded it, holding back the tears that threatened to accompany the penned words. Finally she sealed it with the bottom of her inkwell instead of employing a special crest or designation and walked over to Margaret. “Thank you” was all she could manage as she watched Margaret tuck the paper carefully away and make her way down the corridor.
After several watery tears, Charlotte bit the sides of her cheeks until they hurt and forced herself to stop crying. She shouldn’t muss her hair or complexion just before dinner, not if she wanted to go without questions. She glanced around the room at the velvet curtains and carved dressing table, at all the opulent trappings of her surroundings. She’d been taught for years that finery like this proved her worth. That wealth should give her confidence.
But it was merely a resplendent cage full of lies.
***
Alex’s door jangled open again, and he prepared himself for the foreman delivering more bad news. But when looked up, he was surprised to see a slender woman in an apron, jittery as a mouse, looking at him with terrified half-shaded eyes beneath an overly large bonnet.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir. I have this to deliver and will be on my way.”
Why did the woman’s face and voice seem familiar to him? She thrust the note out in front of her, and he took it. As soon as he had, she turned to go.
“Please stay, miss, just until I read its contents.”
The woman tensed and nodded, her bonnet still covering most of her face from him as he broke the unusually shaped seal.
His eyes devoured the words. Halfway through, he glanced up. This woman was Margaret. Of course. That’s why she seemed familiar. He’d seen her once in town and from far away a few times. Part of him wished to send someone for Moxham now, but as he read Charlotte’s suggestion, he agreed that sending Moxham to apply at the castle would be best.
As he came to the second half of the letter, his heart contorted, and before he wished it, the letter concluded.
Charlotte had told him to stay away. Forever.
But with each of her admonitions, he felt the pain behind them, and he could almost see her beautiful, tortured eyes as she’d penned them. How many times had he watched Charlotte’s brother dictate her life? The strain and oppression of each of her words cut at his soul and stirred his sense of injustice. Her fear must run deep to be so definitive. His heart ached. Had she, like himself, spent hours devising plans to bring them together again, or had she simply given up?
Ithadto be possible to see her, to be with her again. He just hadn’t figured out the pieces yet. But he would.
“Sir, I must be going.” Margaret must have sensed he had finished and began to back toward the door.
“Wait, please,” he said, snapping out of his reflections like a hound catching a scent. “Tell me, when is the masquerade at the castle?”
