Chapter 10
Margaret did not know whether to be excited for her promenade in Hyde Park or terrified.
She knew that all eyes would be on her once they saw whose arm she was on. It was the perfect gossip fodder, and though Margaret had not been immune to it before, she somehow felt different this time.
Having been summoned before her departure, Margaret found her mother in the small back parlor, counting out coins onto a folded cloth.
She winced, for her mother had never been so entirely open about their situation.
It was deliberate, she decided, an attempt to remind her of what was at stake, and it was working.
“Please do not do that in front of me, Mama,” Margaret said.
Her mother did not look up.
“It is better if you see it. We are not ruined, only thinly stretched, so we can take that as a small miracle.”
Margaret crossed the room and nudged the cloth closed, her suspicions confirmed. It would have been understandable, she thought, if she had been resisting the courtship, but she was playing her part. It felt unjust.
“I did not come to be reminded of that.”
“And I did not want it to happen, but it has. I can only hope that you have some good news for me.”
Margaret hesitated. The words felt heavier once they were spoken aloud, even if it was only to explain that she would be leaving for a few mere hours.
“The Duke invited me to walk with him this afternoon.”
That made her mother’s hands still, which of course she was grateful for. Her mother finally looked up, smiling uncertainly.
“In public?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Today. The promenade in Hyde Park. He sent word this morning, and of course I could not refuse.”
“No, of course not. You know better than to risk such an opportunity for us all.”
Margaret’s fingers curled around the back of the chair opposite her mother.
Of course her courtship was not a romance for herself.
It was a transaction for her family, and she had entered into it knowing as much, but she wished it were not seen the same way by her own mother.
She would have preferred for her to simply play along and act as though it was a happy occasion.
“I am grateful, you know,” her mother continued, perhaps sensing her knuckles turning white.
“It is only a promenade.”
“It is far more than that. It is proof that you are the lady that he has chosen, albeit temporarily. It is vital that you–”
“Do not disappoint. I know.”
“I am not suggesting that you would, only that… well, it is a statement on His Grace’s behalf.”
“He wants us to be seen,” Margaret said. “This is the first time we will walk together where everyone can watch. He was very clear about it.”
Her mother studied her.
“Clear about what?”
“That it matters how it looks,” Margaret said. “That people must believe it, if we are to be taken seriously.”
“And what do you believe?”
“That he has taken a liking to me, of course.”
“Come now, Margaret,” her mother sighed, “gentlemen like him rarely fall for ladies in our position. If you cannot convince me that you are special, then you will not convince the ton.”
“I am under far less scrutiny from the ton. Truly, you would think that I would be praised for finding a gentleman such as him, but it is still not enough.”
Her mother’s mouth tightened.
“Men with power know how to wield it. I am trying to protect you, that is all.”
“He is not cruel,” Margaret said.
“That is not the same thing as safe. You need only make one mistake, and it will be enough for him to abandon you. Do not forget that.”
“Mother, I cannot remain hidden, for it would only make people wonder why that is. If we do this at all, we must do it openly. People will notice whether I go with him or not. Refusing will not make me invisible. It will make me questionable, and you know perfectly well that we cannot afford that.”
Her mother folded the cloth with the coins inside, and MArgaret wondered if they could afford very much at all.
“And if they stare?”
“They will.”
“And if they whisper?”
“They already do.”
“And if they decide you are ambitious?”
“They already think I am foolish,” Margaret said. “To them, I am practically on the shelf as it is. There is no harm in making them change their minds. If anything, it is what must be done for our family to survive.”
Her mother closed her eyes for a moment. Margaret noticed then just how much her mother had aged in the last few months. She was under immense pressure, they both were, and Margaret willed herself to show her some grace.
“You sound older than your years.”
“I feel older than my years,” Margaret said. “Walking with him will help, though. I am not quite old enough that they will think he is courting an old maid, at least.”
“That is true,” her mother laughed softly. “Did he give any instruction?”
“He said I should wear something simple,” Margaret said. “He said the point is not spectacle. He said he will meet me at the gate by the Serpentine.”
“Then we must decide how you will go.”
“It is already decided,” Margaret said. “I am to attend with our maid. He did not invite a chaperone.”
Her mother’s mouth thinned. Margaret assumed that it was because she was hoping to accompany them, for she had not had much reason to leave the household of late.
“He did not need to, I suppose. The park will provide a hundred chaperones.”
Her mother rose and moved to the window. The street outside held the late clatter of carts and voices, sounds that she would soon be among.
“I want you to be careful,” her mother warned. “You are not being carried along by this man’s plans without thinking of yourself. I know that you are thinking of us all, and I am of course thrilled about that, but we cannot let too much time pass without a proposal.”
“I am thinking of myself too, I can assure you,” Margaret said. “I am choosing this, and that is because I believe it is best.”
“I do not know that that is reason enough.”
“It is a human one,” Margaret said. “I told you that he is not cruel, and I meant it. When I speak, he does not talk over me. When I hesitate, he waits. When I refuse, he does not push. He is patient, Mama, and that means everything when it comes to such matters as a courtship.”
And not one word was a lie, to her surprise. He was a kind man, one that had offered to protect her without second thought, and though she did not know that she could trust it, she did want to. Her mother studied her face, and Margaret was pleased that she was thinking honestly.
“Has he refused you anything?” she asked.
“He refuses to explain himself,” Margaret said. “But he does not refuse me my dignity, and I cannot hope for more than that.”
Her mother crossed the room and set her hands on Margaret’s shoulders.
“Very well, walk with him, but you will remember who you are when you do.”
“I know who I am,” Margaret said.
“Tell me.”
“I am your daughter,” Margaret said. “There is little more to it than that.”
Her mother’s grip tightened, then eased. She gave a small nod, one that Margaret resented. She wished to be more than the eldest Fairleigh child, but that was all that she had ever been.
Her mother stepped back.
“Wear the blue pelisse. It suits you.”
“You always say that.”
“It is still true,” her mother said. “And bring the gloves with the repaired seam. You fidget when you are nervous.”
Margaret glanced at her hands.
“Do I?”
“You always have,” her mother said. “I am your mother. I notice these things.”
Margaret smiled in spite of herself.
“Then I will try not to fidget.”
“Yes. See that you do.”
Margaret turned toward the door. The weight in her chest shifted into a tight, bright coil. She paused with her hand on the latch.
“Mother?”
“Yes.”
“If this goes poorly–”
“Then you will come home. We will shut the door. We will eat our supper. The world will still be here in the morning.”
Margaret nodded and stepped into the hall, the house quiet around her, the sound of the city waiting beyond the door. Her mother had not meant a word of what she had said, but she was trying. Margaret tried to be grateful for that, at least.
Margaret reached the park gate with her pulse already loud in her ears.
The air held the smell of cut grass and the river beyond the trees.
Carriages rolled past in a steady stream, and laughter drifted across the path.
The promenade curved ahead of her, crowded with people who had come to see and be seen.
She spotted him at once.
The duke stood near the iron rail, hands clasped behind his back, his coat dark against the pale gravel. He did not pace, did not fidget like she did. He waited as if he had nowhere else to be.
When he saw her, his posture shifted.
“You came,” he said as she drew near.
“You invited me,” Margaret said.
His mouth twitched, as though amused. She liked that she amused him, if that were the case, though she wished she knew why.
“That is true.”
She glanced past him, taking in the lines of people, the bright parasols, the officers in their uniforms, the women in pale muslins.
She hardly ever had the time to promenade with all of the work she was doing at home, and though she had told herself over and over that she did not miss it all, she did.
“You chose a busy hour.”
“If we walk when no one is here, our courtship is a secret. If we walk now, it is a fact.”
She considered that, laughing nervously.
“You make it sound like a legal document.”
“That will come if this goes well enough,” he said. “May I?”
He offered his arm. Margaret placed her gloved hand there. His sleeve was warm from the sun. They took their first steps together. The sound of it all struck her at once; the murmur of voices, the scrape of boots on gravel, the hush that arrived when people noticed who walked beside her.
She felt the looks at once.
“You are being assessed,” she said under her breath.
“So are you,” he said. “We may as well give them something simple to understand.”
“And what is that?”