Alice frowned and waited for her to explain, while Margaret took a sip of her brandy, the burning down her throat a welcome distraction from the pain in her chest.
‘I assume the Baroness did more than compliment you,’ Alice went on when it was clear that Margaret was struggling to explain their strange encounter.
‘Yes. She told me how lucky I was to be…’ Margaret paused and looked at Primrose, unsure how to phrase this.
‘To be?’ Alice prompted.
‘To be the lover of such a talented man, who could make a woman feel things she did not know possible and make her think she is adored and beautiful,’ she said, the words coming out in an embarrassed rush.
‘Hmm, not exactly the most tactful thing for her to say, but hardly a reason to leave your husband.’
‘She also said I should enjoy it while it lasts because it won’t be long before some other young lady catches his eye.’
‘Well, there you are,’ Alice said, as if that settled the matter. ‘She is jealous, just as I said, and a troublemaker. I wouldn’t pay the slightest heed to anything she says.’
‘No…yes…maybe, but she was right. When Jacob and I agreed to our fake engagement, and when we entered into this unwanted marriage, we promised we would continue to live exactly as we did before we were married and give each other complete freedom. I haven’t kept my side of the bargain.’
‘What do you mean? Have you stopped him from doing what he wants? Have you restricted his freedom?’ Alice asked, her tone suggesting that she knew the answer to these questions would be no, which only went to show how she really did not understand.
‘No, not yet. But I’m in love with him. If I stay with him, I fear that is exactly what I will try to do.’ She looked at her friend in appeal, hoping she would say or do something, anything, to make the pain consuming her go away.
‘Have you told him how you feel?’
‘No, and I never will. We made a deal. I can’t go back on it now.’ How could her friend even make such a ridiculous suggestion?
‘But maybe he feels the same way.’
Margaret sighed and took another sip of her brandy. ‘That’s the problem. I was starting to think that maybe he did. He’s been so affectionate and attentive and he really did make me feel loved, as if we really were a married couple, committed to building a life together.’
‘Well, there you go then,’ Alice stated.
‘And yes, I had been thinking I should talk to him about how I feel, but now I’m so relieved that I didn’t.’
Alice lifted her hands, palm upwards, to express that she did not understand.
‘Don’t you see? The Baroness felt exactly the same way I did, but she was never under any delusion that she was anything but just one woman in a very long line. The only difference between the two of us is that I’m deluded.’
‘You won’t know that until you tell him how you feel and ask him how he feels.’
What on earth was wrong with her friend? And why was she so stuck on this idea of telling Jacob? She was being no help whatsoever.
‘No, I’ll never do that,’ Margaret said, lifting her head and making it clear that was the end of the matter.
‘Maybe it would be worth the risk to swallow your pride and be honest with him,’ Alice said softly.
Margaret gave a loud sigh of frustration. That was easy for Alice to say. She had a husband who loved her deeply. She hadn’t thrown herself at a rake, forcing him to become a married man against his will. Alice hadn’t acted like a silly, deluded wallflower who had fallen hopelessly in love with a man because he was a wonderful lover who made her weak with desire. It was embarrassing enough to admit it to herself. She certainly wasn’t going to admit it to Jacob.
‘No, we made an agreement and I will stick to it, no matter how painful. And if I did declare my love for him, it would only make him feel guilty. He might even pretend to love me out of pity or something, which would be intolerable. He might be a rake, but he’s still a good, kind man. What he did for Baroness Winterborne proves that. As she said, it was such a grand gesture, to marry in order to save his lover from the divorce courts.’
‘I’m sure that was not the reason he married you.’
Margaret chose not to respond to that and took another sip of her drink, determined to think of the future not the past.
‘I think I’ll stay in London and start taking painting lessons,’ she said. ‘That’s something I’ll get out of this marriage. Now that I’m a duchess, no art teacher is likely to turn me down because I’m a woman, or expect me to paint pretty watercolours of flowers and nothing else. Or maybe I’ll go to France and study under one of the new Impressionists. Yes, perhaps that’s what I’ll do.’
She looked from Alice to Primrose and back again. Neither of them was looking convinced by her newly formulated plan.
‘If I’m away from England then I can give Jacob complete freedom,’ she added.
