Chapter 8
“Aduke?”
Margaret wondered how soon she would tire of hearing the same two words in the same tone as she heard from her sisters. She had not known what they would say about it, given that they did not know her situation, but she did not know why she had questioned it.
Unlike her mother, her sisters wanted only the best for her, and there was no better in their eyes than the dashing Duke of Ravensmere. He was,a s far as they were concerned, a perfect match.
“I cannot believe it,” Emily sighed wistfully, “but where did you meet?”
Margaret chewed her bottom lip for a moment.
“I am afraid that I was not entirely honest with you both. I was not unwell the night of the ball, as you know, Emily, and–”
“You were not unwell?” Poppy asked, turning to Emily. “And you knew?”
“I had to keep it secret!” Emily yelped. “And it is not as though I knew why Margaret had to be unwell.”
She did, of course, but if that was Margaret’s penance for lying to both of them then she would accept it. She had lied to her family, and so they had every right to be angry with her, but they were not. Her mother was, perhaps, but not her sisters.
Her sisters were never angry with her, and she was grateful for that.
“I cannot believe,” Emily continued, “that after so many events, the one time you were alone you found a match! Perhaps we were at fault all along?”
The sisters all laughed, but their mother pressed her lips into a very thin line.
She had not been to blame for Margaret’s failure to marry.
In truth, if not for the financial strain her family faced, she still would have been unmarried.
It was not for lack of trying, only that she wanted love and she did not love anyone.
If anything, the lack of funds had helped her for a long time. It gave her the chance to wait until something truly special came her way. Unfortunately, she had waited too long.
“It was completely by chance,” she assured them. “I suppose love comes for you when you are least expecting it.”
“Indeed,” Poppy beamed. “I hope that the same happens to me, though perhaps sooner. I know that you are happy, but I cannot wait to be a wife. A duchess, can you imagine?”
“It is only a courtship,” Margaret reminded her.
She did not want them to think that too much would come of it. She wished that she could tell her sisters the true reason for it, and all of the kindness His Grace was showing them, but that would mean revealing their situation and she did not dare.
If they knew what she was doing, and had even the slightest feeling that she did not love the man, they would put a stop to it, she did not doubt that, and she could not allow it. She had to see it through for their sakes.
And, she reasoned, there were worse men to be tied to for a short while.
Of all the men in society, she had stumbled into the life of a man that she respected, even if she wished he was not keeping his own secrets from her.
She had told him her deepest secret the evening they met, and yet he remained a mystery.
“We are to dine with him,” she explained. “Tomorrow evening at his London residence. You shall meet him then.”
“Is he scary?” Poppy asked. “Rather, will I find him to be?”
“It is possible. He is a large man, and he shall tower over you even more than he does me, but he does not mean any harm, believe me.”
“Does he have a dog? I should like a dog.”
“I do not know.”
“What about–”
“That is quite enough, Poppy,” their mother interrupted. “It has been a long day for us all, and you will have all of your questions answered come tomorrow.”
Poppy quietened, but of course she had no intentions of stopping there. Instead, she waited until Margaret went to her room, and ambushed her in the hallway.
“Will you live in his London home when you are married?”
“Mother told you to not ask anything more.”
“Yes, but you never mind what Mama says. Well?”
“I do not know. I do not know that I will even marry him. It is only a courtship, Poppy.”
“But that is what happens to many courtships. Surely you have not accepted such a proposal without expecting an engagement eventually.”
“Perhaps I have not.”
“You would not do that. I may not be the most intelligent, I know, but I know my sister. You have a plan for every plan, five in fact. If you do something, it is because you expect the best outcome. Why else would you not yet be married?”
Margaret laughed nervously. It was, she had to admit, almost a perfect understanding of the situation, and she did not dare allow her to come to the right conclusion.
Poppy was right, she had done something that had the best possible outcome, but she did not know quite what it was and she never would.
Her sisters did not know that their dowries needed to be restored, and so they would not learn of it. They did not know they were struggling, and so they never would. All would be well, as long as Margaret kept to her end and accepted the courtship. It was the easiest deal that she had ever made.
And, she told herself, she could do it all without falling for him.
“Very well,” Margaret nodded. “Though you are more intelligent than you think. You simply do not enjoy lessons.”
“I hated them. That was why I was so desperate to debut. At least Mama allowed you to tutor me. Had it been one of those awful tutors my friends tell me of, I would have gone mad. I am most fortunate, they all think so.”
“Are you referring to Lady Dorothy? She has one of the most expensive tutors money can buy. I do doubt that she is awful.”
“She is! Dorothy always says that she wishes her sister was good enough to teach her instead.”
Margaret laughed properly at that.
“What of His Grace? Did he have a tutor?”
“I assume so, but I do not know. You should ask him that yourself tomorrow.”
“But I cannot speak to him! What if he is frightening?”
“He is not, I can assure you, and if he is, then I shall pass an enjoyable dinner without any questions. It shall be a blessing.”
Poppy made a mocking face before laughing and embracing her tightly.
“I may not know how this came to be, and I may not understand what made you change your mind about everything, but I am so pleased for you, Maggie. We do notice everything that you do for us.”
“I hardly–”
“I see the pin pricks on your hands. I know that you help the maids so that they have less to do, and that you mend our clothing, mine more than anyone’s. I am trying to be more ladylike, I promise.”
“I know. Poppy, I– I do not want you to grow up. I never have, not you or Emily. I wish you had always stayed small. Mama might be desperate for you to be a mature and upstanding member of society, but I am happy for you to remain a girl for as long as it pleases you.”
And it was true. Lady Fairleigh was often furious that Poppy was as girlish as she was, but it hardly made a difference to Margaret.
Sometimes, when she heard her youngest sister crash through the household, she forgot that she was no longer an eleven year old girl dreaming of parties and gowns.
She was a lady, one that donned gowns and attended said parties, or at least one that could now that their finances would be intact.
“I would love to be a girl forever,” Poppy sighed, “but Mama is right. I wanted to debut early, and that means I have to act accordingly. Perhaps I should have had my lessons for longer?”
“I will always be here to help you, Poppy.”
Her sister withdrew into herself at that, something she rarely did. It caught Margaret by surprise, for she was not the sort of young lady to ever be serious.
“When you are a duchess, you shall be too busy for me, and that is how it should be. I will do my best tomorrow, and make a good impression on the Duke. You will see.”
“You need not change yourself!”
“But I do. I know what you all think of me, and I will change that. I want you to all see me as a lady, rather than a child, so I will have to make the effort for that to be the case.”
She left without another word, and Margaret watched her as she went.
It was true that they all saw her as little other than their baby.
She was the most precious thing as a little girl, and even as an adult she was filled with a kindness that Margaret envied.
She wished she shared in her sister’s gentle nature and naivety.
She wished she could be ignorant to the problems around her, but if that were the case they would have been cast out of their home long ago.
To Poppy’s credit, Margaret saw the following evening that the efforts were already being made.
When she entered her room to prepare her, she was wearing her most expensive gown, and was sitting perfectly upright.
Margaret took a hairbrush and began tending to her.
Fortunately, no questions were ever asked about why she was the one to prepare her sisters for outings, as they had always preferred it that way.
Emily took the lady’s maid, while Margaret had Poppy.
“You look lovely,” Poppy sighed. “I do not know how you do it yourself.”
“A lot of practice. Besides, I enjoy it. That is why I do yours, too.”
“Do I look presentable? I do not wish to do too much.”
“It is perfect. You should trust yourself more often. Now, are you ready?”
She fastened the last pin, and Poppy admired herself before turning to her with a firm nod. They descended the stairs, and even their mother gave her approval. Margaret pretended not to notice just how happy that made her sister.
Ravensmere House stood on a wide Mayfair street, its pale stone frontage plain but well maintained.
Tall windows faced the road, evenly spaced across three storeys, and a short flight of stone steps led up to a black front door.
It was not larger than its neighbours, but it was clearly of better quality, and Margaret wondered if it garnered much envy.