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“He did that so quickly!”
“Oh, I am quite sure that he has many connections in London. He seems very intent upon the marriage, and for the life of me, I don’t know why.”
Jane brought a hand to Margaret’s cheek. “Because you are a beautiful young woman with a great deal of skill.”
“Nothing makes sense anymore,” Margaret said. “But I refuse to pity myself. I must not pity myself, Jane.”
“Come, you need to sit.”
Jane led Margaret to the bed, where she sat, thinking that it was perhaps the worst evening of her life, after what had been the best evening of her life. Memories of the dance returned. Margaret was so happy then, and it seemed like a lifetime ago. If only she could take it all back, return to the dance, and leave with John that very evening.
But as her father said, he would lose his life if she took such an action.
No, there was only one course to take now, and Margaret would walk that course with her head held high. She would show her father and Darkmoor that she was not afraid. Perhaps John would still come to see her, and Margaret could delight in his presence.
But she could not have a liaison with John. It would be too unbearable. All that profound heat and desire that she felt for him would need to be quelled. Margaret could not give in to this under the eyes of God.
“Should I write him a letter?” Margaret finally asked.
“If you think it best. I will go to see him tomorrow morning.”
“I wish that I could tell him myself. He needs to hear it from me.”
“But as you said, you shall be gone.”
“Shall I go to him tonight?” Margaret asked, desperately needing Jane’s council.
“It is late.” Jane placed a hand over Margaret’s. “And now, I fear for your safety. What if Darkmoor gets wind of it? I do not know the man nor what he is capable of.”
“I would imagine he is just as capable of deceit as my father.”
This last statement gave Margaret pause. Was her father telling the truth? What if it was all one big lie to secure the marriage?
“I admitted to him… that I am in love with another,” Margaret said mournfully.
Jane’s eyes went wide with shock. “You did?”
“Indeed. He had little response to this. It was what I should have expected.”
“I am so sorry, Margaret,” Jane said softly, resting her head on Margaret’s shoulder.
“I am sorry, as well.”
There was nothing else to say. Everything had concluded. Tomorrow, she would be Lady Darkmoor, and John would hear the news from Jane. Margaret shook her head in grief and disbelief. Could things have gone any worse? Margaret thought not.
“I must sleep,” Margaret said, suddenly aware of her weariness.
“Yes, let me help you out of this dress.”
As Jane helped Margaret get into her sleeping costume, she was aware that having dressed so simply that night, Margaret truly felt like herself. She wore simple muslin and fit in with the rest of the country dancers in Farthington.
If only she could live that simple life in perpetuity. No, it was all gone now—the dreams she had about living with John, cooking him meals, tending to a garden. She would be locked in a cage for the rest of her life, and there was nothing Margaret could do about it.
Jane helped her into the bed and placed the covers on top of her. After kissing Margaret upon the forehead, Jane departed, looking just as sad and dejected as Margaret felt. “I will see you in the morning,” Jane said softly, then closed the door behind her.
All was silence. In this silence, Margaret feared for her own life, for she had the strongest inclination to rid herself of it that night. But, this was not within Margaret’s character. She was more aware than ever of her courage and strength, and Margaret would not take her own life to escape her fate. She would endure it with rigor.
She closed her eyes tight, willing herself to sleep, but sleep would not come. She imagined John lying beside her, consoling her. If only he were there with his arms around her. If only John could whisper into her ear and tell her that it was all going to be all right. But, it could not be. Like so many things that Margaret dreamed of, it could not be.
