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Margaret watched as Jane departed, and she inhaled slowly and deeply. Yes, Jane was truly being of the utmost assistance, and Margaret was grateful for that. What would she do without her trusted maid? And what’s more, if it weren’t for Jane, there would be no hope in the world that she could be with John.
Sitting down at her desk, Margaret took up her quill pen and began to compose.
John,
Your sister and I had a wonderful conversation this evening. I truly think that she is hoping for our union. How marvelous it would be to have Jane as a sister, even though this seems far-fetched considering all the challenges that lay ahead. But hope has been renewed since seeing you this evening. It was so good of you to come, and I do not know what kind of state I would be in right now if you had not.
John, I long to see you again. Trust that I shall think of you all through the night and well into tomorrow. There is no greater feeling than being in your arms and feeling protected by you. We will endure all of this—I am quite sure of it. For now, please try to come when you can.
All of my heart,
Margaret
Yet again, Margaret had to wonder if she had said too much, but considering all that had been disclosed that evening, she thought not. John truly loved her and cared for her—there was not a doubt in her mind. Now, if she could just convince her father of this love… if he even believed in love anymore.
Margaret got into bed where Jane had rolled back the covers, and she could not help but smile to herself as she considered how extraordinary the evening had become after she fled from her father and Darkmoor. John made life worth living, and she would never let go of hope again. Even if she did have to marry Darkmoor, there was a chance that she could always run away. John would be there to help.
It did not take long for these warm thoughts to send Margaret into sleep, which she was grateful for, because Jane was right when she remarked how tired Margaret must be. Upon waking the following day, the storm clouds had returned, and Margaret feared that this boded ill. It did not take long for Jane to enter, carrying a tea tray with biscuits.
“Did you sleep well?” Jane asked, setting down the tray.
“Surprisingly well.” Margaret yawned and stretched. “There is a letter on the desk if you would be so kind.”
Jane retrieved the letter and set it in her pocket. “I shall deliver it this morning. Can I get you anything else?”
“That will be all, Jane. I thank you.”
Jane departed with a smile on her face, and Margaret found herself jealous of that letter because it was about to be in John’s hands. The only thing left to do was ready herself for the day. She would not go down to breakfasts, no matter what her father said. No, Margaret was going to live the day for herself! If her freedom were being taken from her, she would relish every last drop of what she could hold onto.
Taking her first sip of tea, Margaret closed her eyes in rapture and delighted in the flavor. The warm scone was then dipped into the tea, and Margaret ate it with relish. Her appetite was returning, and this was a good sign, for Margret would need all the strength that she could get.
It was not long before the cook knocked upon the door. “Your father wishes for you to come down to breakfast,” she said, wiping her hands upon her apron.
“Tell him that I shall not be coming down. I wish to spend the morning in privacy.”
The cook cocked her head. “Are you sure that is a good idea, Miss?”
“I am positive,” she replied definitively.
Once the cook was gone, Margaret walked over to the window and gazed at the field—the very field where she and John had been in one another’s arms last night. If only he would return again, as he said that he would. Then, once more, they could be cloaked in darkness and share their secret love.
Just then, water trickled down the pane as the heavens opened up. But, the rain would not deter her. Margaret would still go for her afternoon walk, even if she got soaked to the bone. She needed that exercise more than ever.
There was a ferocious knock upon the door within a short interval, and Margaret told the person to come in. It was no surprise when the viscount entered, looking terribly upset. “I told you to come down.”
“Is my presence really that important, father?”
The viscount crossed his arms in front of his chest. “It was terribly rude what you did in Darkmoor’s company last night.”
“Darkmoor is terribly rude to begin with. So, it was of no consequence.”
“Margaret, you best not ruin all of this for me. You understand the importance.”
“And because of how you go about this, trust that it is of little importance to me. Kindness is important. Compassion is important, and the like.”
The viscount leered at her but fell silent, exiting the room and slamming the door behind him.
***
