5. Chapter Five #4
“I understand if it makes you uncomfortable,” Mr. Ashcroft said. “After all, we hardly know one another.”
“How did you know who I was?” Margaret asked. How much did he know of her? She was rather shocked when her name had smoothly rolled off his tongue.
“I must confess,” Mr. Ashcroft said, “I have known of your family for quite some time.”
“Oh?”
“Mostly by name,” he corrected.
Margaret folded her hands while leaning over the balcony. “Oh, well I imagine so. My family has large connections with your country. My father lived in Oxford for six years while going to school.”
Mr. Ashcroft held his cigar between his fingers as he blew again. “Wonderful man from what I know. I have been following his work for some time, and I believe he did right by leaving society. I have the most admirable respect for him.”
Margaret was thrilled to hear Mr. Ashcroft’s opinion of her father. Growing up, many people spoke ill of her family. Hearing it from an outsider gave her great happiness and hope that there were more like him.
“Mr. Ashcroft, I’d like to know more about Yorkshire, if I may. What is it like?”
Mr. Ashcroft exhaled deeply. “Well, it has been quite different since the war. Many lords have cut down on their tenants. Most were unable to pay the rent due to the rise in taxes. However, it still is a beautiful place. It almost reminds me of here.”
“Why so?”
“Well, you have good and honest people who appreciate nature and simplicity. Also, this land is the most gorgeous place I have seen so far in your country. These mountains leave me . . . speechless.”
“Then you must see my home in Charlottesville. You can see miles of the Blue Ridge Mountains on every corner. Here in Richmond . . . well . . . it’s not like home.”
Eugene put out his cigar and faced Margaret. “Then I can only imagine the beauty of your home.”
Margaret’s heart thumped in her throat as he came closer.
She longed to see this man again, but the possibility was slim.
Once grandfather passed, they’d be in mourning, and there would be no more social events.
Also, Margaret and her family would return home.
But something drew her to Mr. Ashcroft. If only he would ask for permission to court her, but that was highly unlikely.
What could this man possibly see in her?
He was just a gentleman helping a damsel in distress. Nothing more.
“Miss Nicholson, do you think you could call me Eugene now?”
Margaret’s lips parted into a soft smile. “Very well, Eugene.” It rolled off her tongue so naturally. Eugene, Eugene, Eugene. She could say it repeatedly for hours.
Him being this close and them being under the stars made Margaret long to be here forever.
What would Marjorie do in this case? Oh no.
She had thought too much. She was becoming Marjorie.
This was something she’d do. Margaret looked down at Marjorie’s pearls.
They had bewitched her. She looked up into Eugene’s crystal blue eyes.
Perhaps this was the way she was supposed to act.
The attraction was natural, just as it had been in romance novels.
Eugene grinned. “Then I must ask for permission to call you Margaret.”
Margaret’s heart leaped at the sound of her name in his British accent, so clear and so elegant. “Please.”
The clock struck midnight, just as it had been in Cinderella. Margaret giggled quietly. She had no need to leave.
“It’s getting late,” Eugene said.
“It is.”
Eugene sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “We must head back. It wouldn’t be right for your reputation to be gone so long . . . especially with me.”
Margaret bit her lip and looked down. Heat crawled up her neck and burned at her cheeks. How foolish of her to think they could stay here longer!
“I must be going. I do not wish to tarnish you. Will you be all right?”
Margaret swallowed a lump in her throat. “Yes.”
Eugene smiled. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Margaret.”
“You too.”
Eugene took Margaret’s hand in his and planted a kiss. Margaret’s heart throbbed against her chest. Now she wished gloves had never existed. She longed to have his lips against her bare skin again and again. His eyes looked into hers, and she looked up into his. She longed for him to kiss her.
Just once.
It seemed hopeless to ever happen, but she was proven wrong in a matter of seconds.
Eugene’s arms wrapped around her, bringing her close to him.
Her legs became numb, and any minute she would melt into his embrace.
He leaned down and lifted her chin. Her lips became dry as she longed for his to touch hers. He leaned closer, then closer.
And at last, his lips landed on hers. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment. It was her first kiss, and it seemed as if she were Elizabeth Bennet being kissed by Mr. Darcy. Eugene pulled away and looked into her eyes. Margaret longed to kiss him again, but he backed away.
“Goodnight, Margaret.”
Margaret could barely breathe, her heart racing wildly in her chest. “Goodnight, Eugene.”