6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Margaret opened the velvety curtains and allowed the morning light to wash over her face.
She closed her eyes, reminiscing over the magical night hours ago.
She arose early that morning, for she could hardly sleep a wink.
When she returned to her room after the ball, she wasn’t surprised to see Evie already asleep.
Marjorie turned in a few hours later and had awakened earlier than Margaret to take her regular morning walk.
Margaret turned from the window and sat at her vanity. Her cheeks flushed as she replayed the memory of being in the arms of Eugene Ashcroft. Eugene, she could get used to calling him so.
His kiss was a powerful force, one that took control of her emotional and physical being.
Margaret hardly knew the man, but it was as though he were a part of her.
They were connected by a force they were unable to fight.
It was by near fate she met him, just like in her romance novels.
Yet what troubled her was if she’d see the man again.
Would he search through Richmond to find her like a charming prince, or would he forget?
Who had invited him to the ball? Perhaps he was a relative of some of her father’s connections in England, but knowing how much of an outsider he was, his character was almost peculiar.
No one seemed to know him, and he hadn’t been introduced.
It almost seemed as though he was an uninvited guest. But did it matter?
Whatever the reasoning was, their encounter had to be fate.
Eugene was a mystery she longed to uncover.
Who was this Eugene Ashcroft outside of the ball?
“What time is it?”
Margaret faced Evie’s side of the room where she stirred in bed and wiped her eyes.
At last, Margaret’s accomplice was awake.
Her heart thumped. She’d burst if she didn’t share the details with someone.
Anxiously bursting into their bedroom last night and finding her sister fast asleep had been torture.
Margaret could have told Marjorie about Eugene when she had returned from the ball, but they weren’t as close.
Marjorie never thought logically and instead dwelled in her own little fantasy world.
Evie was more down-to-earth and wiser in her advice.
Margaret sat on Evie’s bed. Her cheek ached from smiling, for she hadn't stopped since he kissed her. Thinking of Eugene’s voice and his touch brought warmth into her soul, a warmth she hadn’t experienced in almost five years.
It seemed the ice around her heart had begun to melt, but seeing him once more might thaw it completely.
“Evie, you’ll never guess what happened last night!”
She yawned and wiped her eyes. “Is this about the older gentleman you danced with? If so, at least tell me he has a lovely personality.”
Margaret’s head fell back as she burst into laughter. Evie was a woman of honesty. The last person she’d consider marrying was the horrendous Mr. Clarkson. Meeting him was a memory she longed to forget.
“Of course not. That was the worst moment of my life.” Evie sat up against the bed frame. “Please tell me he wasn’t horrid.”
“More like a Mr. Collins . . . but American.”
Evie’s nose crinkled. “How disgusting. I’d rather die than associate with a man such as him.”
Margaret pressed her lips together. “But there was one man in particular I danced with. He was an absolute dream.”
“Ah, Margaret speaks of a dream man. Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”
Margaret giggled and hit Evie with a pillow. “Oh, stop it!”
“Please, you must tell me more.”
“Well, his name is Mr. Ashcroft, and he is from Yorkshire.”
“How dreamy! I’ve never heard the name Ashcroft.”
Margaret sighed, her hand resting on her chest. “He is a dream. Such a dream that I do not believe I’ll see him again.”
Evie scooted closer. “Why would you think that?"
“Well,” Margaret started. “First thing, I don’t know anything about him. He could be on a boat to England by now. He’s just vacationing.”
“Then how did he get invited? Surely Daddy must have a connection. He lived in England for six years.”
Margaret chewed her bottom lip. “He only knows Daddy by name. No acquaintances.”
Evie folded her arms over her chest. “Huh? Perhaps Sidney might know.”
Margaret raised a brow. “Sidney?”
Her sister’s face turned a deep shade of red. “He’s the estate manager we met days ago on the riverwalk.”
Margaret recalled the awkward, lanky man with spectacles. When had Evie become so well acquainted with him? There hadn’t been a moment when her sister wasn’t by her side—except for when she was dancing with Mr. Clarkson and Eugene.
“First-name acquaintance, huh? It must be serious.”
“It’s not. I escaped the party and went into the library. He was there, and we started talking. He probably isn’t as much of a catch as your dear Mr. Ashcroft is, but he has a kind heart, and he is very well-educated in biology.”
“Biology?”
“I told him I was interested in nursing school. His uncle was a doctor, and he learned a lot of medical knowledge from visiting him.”
Evie’s face was still red, but a certain glow centered about her, especially when talking about Mr. Agnes. Perhaps they had more than just a connection over biology.
“I’d be delighted for his help.”
Evie removed her covers and stood from the bed. “Good. I will see to him this evening. He goes to the library during that time.”
She retrieved her robe and pulled out one of her dresses.
Seeing her in her normal attire was a stark contrast to her evening dress last night.
They both had transformed into new people, but reality had returned.
Margaret looked down at her mint green dress, which was barely above her ankles.
She wished to wear the dress she had worn last night, and even more so, she longed for the confidence and beauty it brought.
Of course, the dance with Mr. Clarkson took that spark away, but being with Eugene made her forget all about him.
When Evie was dressed, they made their way through the grand hallway and down the towering staircase.
As they passed the second floor, soft weeping echoed.
Margaret looked at Evie, whose brows arched in surprise.
Margaret tiptoed down the hallway where the drawing room door was slightly open.
Through the crack, Margaret and Evie saw Grandmama with her face buried in her hands, sobbing violently.
When Grandmama looked in their direction, no words needed to be said. Her puffy eyes told it all.
“Oh girls,” she wept. “Come sit.”
Evie and Margaret sat at both sides of their grandmama, and she gripped both their hands. “He has passed.”