Page 92 of When We Touch

“Of cou—what newspaper?” Arianna said, quickly changing her tune.

“Arianna, there has been an autopsy. I did nothing to your father. And the article you wrote was inflammatory, to say the least. The paper is barely within the limits of the law. But . . . well, I have friends who wish to write as well. Still, it wouldn’t do for you to have too much spending money on you. Terrible crimes are taking place in the city, but there are still simple thieves out there as well! If you’re going to continue to dabble in the art of writing, I’m afraid I’ll feel entirely obliged to hold back your allowance. Yes, let me think, I believe that would be among the duties the Misters Green outlined to me this morning. Does that agree with what they told you?”

Arianna stood very still for a long moment, staring at her.

Maggie smiled, then let her smile fade. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you how truly sorry I am that your father died. I’m even sorry that he left you saddled with me as your guardian, when I know how difficult it must be for you. I wish that there was something I could say that would make you believe that I was innocent of any wrongdoing.”

“You married him,” Arianna reminded her sharply.

“And are you aware that he had plans for your marriage?”

Arianna’s frown showed her that she was not.

“He wanted you to be a good wife, I believe.”

“He intended to force me to marry?”

“I fully intend to leave that matter to Jamie.”

Arianna smiled. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“The way you refer to my cousin. As Jamie.”

Something in the way she spoke gave Maggie the chills. Was her feeling for the man evident in her voice when she simply spoke his name?

It wouldn’t be. She vowed that it would not be.

“Jamie is his name.”

“Lord James, or Lord Langdon, or Viscount Langdon.”

“Your father called him Jamie, and thus, so do I. At any rate, I believe it was he your father intended for you. But I don’t wish to press that matter—it will be between the two of you when you reach your majority. Since your father has passed, I’m not sure if it will be the proper season for you to come out, even if the time won’t be until next spring. We can see on that matter. But until that time . . . well, I think there are lessons you might want to take. And your father suggested it might be an excellent thing if you were to learn that we are among the privileged few, and there are those out there who suffer terribly. I do think it’s time that you quit maligning me, and that we learn to work together, no matter what our feelings for one another.”

Arianna stood tall and still and tried very hard to contain her fury. “There will be no more newspaper items, madam. I am well warned. I will ask Darby about my allowance. I need a bit more time to mourn my father’s passing. How quickly you seem to have gotten over it. If there’s nothing else, I most respectfully crave leave to return to my room.”

“Please, feel free, return to your room,” Maggie said.

Arianna left the room. The door slammed in her wake.

“Ah, that went very well!” Maggie murmured sardonically to herself.

But she was certain that there would be no more newspaper articles.

At length, she decided to retire, herself.

The bottle of laudanum seemed to be watching her, tempting her.

She ignored it and prepared for bed.

And lay awake, staring at the darkened ceiling. She would sleep, she told herself. And she would not resort to drugs.

She tossed and turned, and found that she was more wretched than ever. Thoughts churned in her mind, Fathers Vickers’s words, the fright the women had betrayed that day, and the way that they had run, so quickly, to find solace in gin.

Jamie.

Leaving.