10. Chapter Ten #2
The tension increased, but Eugene seemed not to mind. A smile etched across his face, as though he welcomed the idea.
“I would be delighted. The weather is bearable, almost reminding me of Yorkshire. Spring is my favorite season.”
Margaret smiled lightly. “A walk would be nice.”
“Just be back before your father is ready. Mr. Baldwin will be meeting with him for a few minutes. I know he doesn’t like to be late.”
Eugene trailed behind Margaret as they exited through the parlor’s clear, French doors.
They walked side by side to the backside of the manor where the riverwalk was.
Margaret didn’t know where to begin. Why would Eugene lie to her at the ball?
Was that his idea of a cruel joke? And what about the kiss they shared? Did that mean anything?
“I’m certain you have plenty of questions,” Eugene said as if he read her mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Margaret asked, not bothering to hold back. “You were a marquess, and I never knew.” The memories of him holding her in his arms flooded her mind. “I feel like a fool!”
What right did she have to fall for a man with a title? He was far above her in rank, especially her being an American with an inheritance that she couldn’t unlock on her own.
“Because I didn’t want you to think of me as you do now.
I’m just a man, Margaret. I have a title, but it wasn’t supposed to be mine so soon.
I inherited it after my father died in the war.
He was still young and in excellent health.
I had plans for my life, and now I am tied down to an estate I must manage.
My reason for coming to Virginia was to relax and not dwell upon my life at home. I hope you understand.”
“I understand,” Margaret said. If anyone knew about stress and duty, it was her. She wasn’t planning to be an heiress, and there she was with a huge responsibility on her shoulders. What was supposed to be a harmless family reunion turned into a new life never planned.
Eugene stopped in their path and took Margaret’s hands into his. He looked deep into her eyes, his baby blues sparkling. “Nothing I said was a lie. There were things I left out, but everything else I said was the truth.”
Margaret’s brows rose. Eugene might have deceived her, but he was still a liar. She opened her mouth, and before she could take a breath, questions spewed out.
“What about being acquainted with my family? You said you didn’t know my father. It seems as though you have charmed my grandmama and charmed your way into her home. How can you explain that, sir?”
Eugene’s expression remained unchanged, even as Margaret accused him by the second, acknowledging him as a deceptive snake. “That wasn’t a lie. I know nothing about your father other than what my uncle has told me. I swear it, Margaret. I never lied to you.”
Margaret sucked in a breath. How could she trust him again? This man kept a huge secret from her. It seemed she never truly knew him at all. She kissed the man for goodness sake!
“I understand if it takes a while for you to trust me again, but from now on, there will be no more secrets.”
Secrets. Oh, how Margaret hated the word. Here Eugene was, confessing everything, and she had a secret she wouldn’t dare tell, not even to her sisters. She avoided speaking of it aloud; that way it wouldn’t be real.
“All right, but if you tell me one more lie—or might I say, half-truth—I’ll send you back to England.”
Eugene chuckled, placing his hand over his heart. “You have my word.”
They continued to walk along the riverwalk and took a right where a pier stretched over the glistening water.
Margaret couldn’t help but smile at the swans in the background, swimming through the waters.
She leaned over the railing, admiring the sky, the shiny water, the clouds, and the sound of the nearby waterfall.
“Please call me Eugene again,” Eugene said, standing behind her.
Margaret turned to him.
“Lord Burton reminds me of the life I left in England. I want to be just a man to you, Margaret. I beg you. Let me be the man you met at the ball, please.”
Margaret looked at her feet, trying not to smile, but it came. As much as she wanted to stay angry—more like frustrated—at him, he was still plain old Eugene, the same man who took her breath away. “As you wish.”
He drew closer to her, but his arms stayed by his side.
Her heart fluttered, but she begged it to stop.
How could she trust him again? Just the sight of his arms resting stiffly at his sides made her yearn for him to pull her close again, but the moment felt inappropriate, different than before.
There was no music, no rescuer from suitors.
They were nothing but mere strangers. The magic from that night had worn off, and they were now in the real world—she the heiress and he the marquess.
“I’d like to see more of you,” said Eugene. “If that would be fine with you and your family.”
Margaret’s breath caught in her throat. Seeing Eugene again would be better than a dream.
He had found her at last; being by his side and experiencing each moment with him was what Margaret had craved for over a week.
His absence made her believe she was unworthy of him, but he had returned and wanted to pursue her.
Even though they were different people now, she couldn’t fight off her attraction.
She owed it to herself to know him again, to see who this Lord Burton was, and if he was the same man from the ball.
“I’d like that very much.”
Eugene’s grin widened as he glanced down, scratching the back of his head, his cheeks reddening. Margaret couldn’t help but delight in seeing him in such a bashful state.
“Do you happen to like Shakespeare by any chance?”
“I love Shakespeare,” Margaret replied.
“If perhaps there is a production close by . . . would you care to come with me?”
Margaret’s lips parted into a smile. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Good,” Eugene said. “I’ll try to send word soon. I’d like to keep in contact. After the ball, I didn’t know if I should call or not with your family in mourning.” Eugene offered her his arm. “I believe it’s time for me to escort you back. My uncle doesn’t take too long with his meetings.”
Margaret took hold of his arm, and they proceeded along the riverwalk and to the parlor door. Eugene escorted her inside, where Daddy was waiting with Mr. Baldwin. Margaret released her grip from Eugene’s arm and hugged her father.
“Good morning, Daddy.”
“Morning, Blossom. Are you ready to go?”
Margaret nodded. Her father reached out to shake Eugene’s hand.
“You must be Lord Burton.”
Eugene nodded. “Yes, sir. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Mr. Nicholson.”
“Likewise,” Daddy said. “I have heard a great deal about you from your uncle.”
“I hope all good things.”
Daddy chuckled. “Nothing too alarming.”
Eugene placed both hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but I understand you and your daughter are leaving for work, but might I ask if I may drive your daughter in?”
Heat crawled up Margaret’s neck, creating an unwelcome tension. “Perhaps another time. I’d like to spend more time with my daughter this morning.”
Eugene’s face turned a hint of red. “Understandable, sir. It was an honor meeting you both.”
Daddy tipped his trilby hat and left the room. Before Margaret followed him, she waved at Eugene, giving him a soft smile. When she and her father entered the vehicle, deep silence enveloped them.
“Everything all right, Daddy?”
Her father looked her in the eye. “Be careful, my dear. The man may seem harmless, but you never know what men like him are capable of.”
Margaret’s gut twisted. She had never seen her father look so serious, his hand gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“Men like him?”
“Titled,” her father explained. “He isn’t like the people of society here who own businesses and invest in stocks. Aristocrats are of nobility. Beware of him.”
“But Grandmama recommended him. She wouldn’t choose anyone terrible, would she?”
Daddy stayed quiet for almost thirty seconds. “More of a reason to be cautious.”
The rest of the drive was quiet, especially as Margaret focused her gaze downward, avoiding the road.
To cope, she distracted herself, thinking about Eugene.
His beautiful eyes, the way he parted his blond hair to the right, the slight curl of his lips when he smiled, and the memory of his bicep flexing as he held her tightly that night.
What did her father mean by his doubt of Grandmama’s judgment?
Eugene wasn’t just an aristocrat; he was the man she connected with.
He might not have told her anything in the beginning, but could that make him an untrustworthy suitor?
She and Eugene were almost the same person, hiding their wealth to be seen as normal.
Perhaps her father was just being cautious as any father would.
“You’re in a vulnerable state,” he reminded. “Don’t let desperation cloud your judgment.”