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Lord Remington pressed his lips together for a long time, studying her. Margaret’s official words churned between them, making the air simmer. Off to the side, Laura clanked her fork on her plate and smeared her napkin across her lips.
“May I be excused?” she asked, in that same horrid Germanaccent.
“Of course, darling,” Margaret returned. She’d genuinely forgotten the girl remained amongst them.
Laura shot from her seat and whisked off towards the hall. All the while, Lord Remington gaped at Margaret, stirring the information through his mind.
“This is quite good to know, Margaret,” he finally said. “Quite good to know indeed. I don’t know quite how I’ll use it. Not yet. But I know one thing: it means Marta and Baldwin have no chance at a life together.”
“Hear, hear,” Margaret said, lifting her water glass into the air. Sunlight crept through the glass and cast strange shadows and light across the wall. She studied the artistry of it, the strange way that light flung itself everywhere, guided by invisible properties she could never fully understand.
“You’ve given me a great deal to think about,” Lord Remington continued. He stood back from his chair and beamed down at her—the last remaining person at the table. “I must excuse myself at this moment to ruminate. But I’m rather sure I’ll see you soon.”
Moments later, Margaret found herself alone, her hands stretched across her thighs and her platter only half-eaten. She’d chased away every single person she loved at the table; she’d proven herself to be in allegiance with the Duke. But wasn’t that what she wanted?
Yes. Sometimes, as a mother, as an aunt, it was necessary to make yourself into a sort of villain. People didn’t always know what was good for them. Slowly, Margaret returned her attention to her food, choosing instead to be pleased with her decisions and actions.
In a year, in two, she and the Duke and Marta would sit together and laugh about this strange and rotten time. “Thank you terribly, Auntie, for pushing me towards my greatest accomplishment in this life,” Marta might say. “Lewis is the love of my life. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”
