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Jane had no response but found Margaret a blue gown and laid it upon the bed. No, Margaret would be unable to refuse her father for the second time in one day. It took considerable strength to refuse him the first time. Maybe, just maybe, he would be too drunk for tea. But considering how well he held his liquor, this was impossible.
As she came downstairs, Margaret made her way towards the tearoom and was delighted to see that her father was not there. At least, this would offer her a few moments alone in privacy. The cook came in, serving the tea, and then she returned with a tray of sandwiches. Sadly, the viscount was the next to enter.
“I am glad to see that you have made an appearance,” he said sarcastically.
“I knew that I had no choice.” Margaret placed her napkin upon her lap.
“Lord Darkmoor is coming for supper tomorrow.”
“I have been told,” Margaret replied flatly.
The viscount elevated his brow. “And you shall behave yourself?”
There was no other way of replying. “I shall.”
Even though Margaret was required to be there in body, she refused to be there in spirit and held her tongue for the rest of the meal. The viscount talked about nonsense, and Margaret listened to him blankly, thinking of what John might be doing at that moment. Did his heart ache as hers did? Did he pine for her, as she did for him?
The meal ended without consequence, and the viscount explained that he was going into town to meet Lord Darkmoor. This was of no consequence, for Margaret would go to her room and try to occupy her mind. Perhaps she would even write John another letter! But would it be too painful to do so? There was so much to say, and since Jane intercepted these letters, might it not arrive to John’s inn?
All of this plaguing her, Margaret still felt tremendous relief when her father was gone, and the house fell silent. If only she could hear John’s voice in that silence. If only she could feel his touch upon her frigid skin. The storm clouds continued to pour down rain, and Margaret was more than happy to be concealed in the darkness of it.
***
John had a hunch. He did not know why his instincts led him to the very same tavern where he had encountered the viscount previously, but upon arrival, he noted that Bolton was seated in the customary seat, with a rather tall, dark, imposing figure seated to his right. With any luck, that was Lord Darkmoor.
Although the viscount most certainly knew of John, there was no way he would recognize his appearance, nor suspect him to be the man he’d encountered before falling off his stool. Therefore, John approached, seating himself beside the sinister man.
“Good afternoon,” John said, folding his hands neatly upon the bar.
Both men turned towards him. “And who might you be?” Bolton asked.
“I am called Hal.”
“You desire to drink with us?” the other man asked with a very deep voice.
“If you will have me. And whom might I have the pleasure of drinking with on this stormy day?”
“I am Lord Bolton, and this is my companion, Lord Darkmoor.”
A twisted smile came to John’s lips. Yes, it was just as he expected. It seemed fitting that Lord Darkmoor was now his drinking companion. John viewed him, taking in his sinister, aging features and the look of self-satisfaction upon his face. No, there was no chance that Margaret could marry this man. John had to find a way to prevent it.
“Bolton and Darkmoor, it is a pleasure to meet you. And what brings you to this fine tavern?”
“We are celebrating!” Bolton lifted his ale. “The marriage of my daughter.”
John practically growled with anger. “Is that so? And who is she marrying?”
The viscount clapped Darkmoor on the back. “This gentleman.”
“I see,” John went on. “Rather old to be marrying your daughter, do you not think?”
Darkmoor glared at him, and then his lips broke into a devilish smile. “This is the way of the world, young man. A lady is to be in the hands of one that can take care of her.”
“And you plan to take care of her?”
Darkmoor seemed confused by this. “That will be my duty, yes.”
Both men seemed surprised that John had delved into this issue so quickly, but he did not mind their suspicions. He wished to know all, especially since it was pertaining to the woman he loved more than anything in the world.
