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“I must say,” Lord Darkmoor went on, “You have a very beautiful daughter.”
Margaret flushed, and not because she was flattered. She flushed because it was exactly what she was hoping not to hear. “That is very kind of you,” the viscount went on.
“Yes, I thank you,” Margaret said softly, still feeling Darkmoor’s eyes upon her.
“My former wife was not beautiful,” he went on, “And I found this favorable, for I knew that she could be controlled.”
Margaret’s stomach twisted yet again. What a disgusting thing to say.
“Oh, my daughter is very meek, I promise you. But, in all things, she believes in fidelity and duty.”
Margaret emitted a little laugh, which caused Lord Darkmoor to pause. Her father glared at her, but Margaret did not regret the laugh. It signified the truth.
The supper carried on, and once Darkmoor was gone, pulled away in an expensive phaeton, Margaret felt as though she could finally breathe.
“You could have done better, Daughter,” the viscount admonished in the parlor.
“I did the best that I could.”
“You could have smiled more. You could have conversed with more distinction.”
“Father, I got the keen impression that Darkmoor didn’t wish for me to converse at all.”
The viscount tossed this away with a wave of the hand. “Nonsense. A man like that, he likes to hear from a lady, if only to show that she can converse at a supper party or ball.”
“Father, I am tired. Please allow me to retire to my room.”
Margaret could stand it no more. The evening with Lord Darkmoor had completely enervated her.
“Yes, get some sleep. You will accompany me to the butcher tomorrow. I need you to be seen in public.”
“Why is that?”
“So that Darkmoor will hear of it.”
As her father descended into drink, Margaret softly left the room, thinking of John all the while. What would he think of how the evening transpired? She couldn’t wait to tell him all, but when would she see him again? The afternoon in the field had been pure magic. Would there be more magic on the horizon?
***
The next day, John was still in a haze of happiness. That brief time that he had spent alone with Margaret had been wonderful, and more of her character showed through, which made him very content. He could tell that she felt safe in his company, and she was open to his encouragement. And truth be told, if he could have escaped with her to France that day, he would have.
But Margaret’s situation—and his burgeoning feelings for her—would need to be dealt with using an extreme amount of caution. It could be dangerous, considering the depth of the viscount’s problems and the extreme need that he was in to have Margaret married. Oh, but John wished to put a stop to all of it!
He slept well at Westerly House the previous night. He was enamored by the inn, almost as much as he was enamored by the beauty living at Pelham Downs. But how long should he tarry? It would be considerably difficult to watch Margaret be married. They would relocate to Lord Darkmoor’s estate, and would Jane go with her? These questions and so many more played upon his thoughts.
John secured a warming breakfast at Westerly House, and once that was done, he anticipated taking a nice stroll through Farthington, making plans for when he would see Margaret and Jane next. What’s more, he desperately wanted to know how the dinner with Lord Darkmoor had transpired. Perhaps he’d return to Pelham Downs that afternoon.
A smile came to his lips as he thought of the evening at the tavern when he instructed the drunk viscount to give Margaret more freedom. Clearly, it seemed like the viscount took this to heart because Margaret had been allowed to meet him in the field the previous day.
“Are you staying another night, sir?” the proprietor asked as John was exiting the inn.
“I am. I find the accommodations most favorable.”
“We are happy to have you. I will make a note of it in my ledger.”
“I thank you.”
With that, John placed his hat atop his head and exited, stepping out into the warm air and basking in the sunshine. He began his walk, overtaken with curiosity to see all the shops and other entertainments that Farthington had to offer. It turned out to be a bustling day, as the streets were teeming with people. He noted that he received several glances from young ladies, and John found this confusing.
