12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
The accident from earlier still lingered in Margaret’s mind.
It hardly seemed real. She could have been killed in a matter of seconds, but Mr. McKinley had come to her aid.
He had been so gentle during the aftermath, drawing her against him and escorting her back to the office.
His touch was comforting, assuring her everything was all right.
If it had been anyone else, she’d be more dramatic, crying and screaming.
But Mr. McKinley surprisingly made her stronger.
Perhaps it was Margaret’s way of proving she was capable of anything—though she wasn’t entirely sure that was true.
She had never experienced the man’s gentle side; it was as though she had been speaking to an entirely new person. This version of Mr. McKinley had been polite and caring, refusing to leave her side until she was calm.
However, what didn’t make sense was how fast he returned to his coldness.
There he had been, wrapping her in his arms and speaking softly, then snapping at her not long afterward.
You’re going to get yourself killed. Mr. McKinley had every right to be angry.
Margaret had set him off without finishing the files when he had asked her to.
What really confused her was Mr. McKinley's ignoring her gratitude. Why couldn’t he have accepted a simple thank you?
He had saved her life, of course, and instead treated it as if it was nothing.
Who could just walk away and brush it off? For certain, she never could.
Margaret hadn’t thought about her fears during the moment. Everything to do with automobiles and crashes frightened her to her very core, sending her into a panic. But Mr. McKinley kept her mind off the subject. All she could think about then was how grateful she was. Roger was her hero.
“Margaret! Margaret!”
Margaret set aside her copy of Jane Eyre and looked up at Marjorie entering the bedroom, hunched over and breathing raggedly. Margaret swiftly stood.
“What happened? Is everything all right?”
Marjorie’s lips curved into a smile, rolling back her shoulders. “Better than all right! You must come quickly. Now!”
What could be so important that Marjorie would burst into the bedroom?
Knowing Marjorie and Grandmama, it was probably another suitor.
Who knew who Grandmama found this time.?
The best news Margaret could think of was that her stay in Richmond was temporary.
However, that wasn’t a guarantee. She had a duty to perform, and that would result in marriage.
Maybe Grandmama found her a suitor who lived near Charlottesville, or maybe it was farther than that.
The very thought of leaving her family chilled her to the bone. Except, she wasn’t engaged yet. No other man occupied her thoughts except Eugene. But would he want to be with her and court short-term? How could she charm an aristocrat into marriage by the end of the four weeks?
As the two young women reached the bottom of the staircase, Margaret was met by the eyes of Eugene Ashcroft—or for more clarity, Lord Burton.
Her stomach flipped and her breath caught in her throat.
Why was he returning so soon? Hat in hand, he bowed.
When Margaret reached him, Eugene took her hand in his and planted a soft kiss on her bare knuckles, the same as he had done at the ball with her wearing gloves.
The warmth of his lips took her back in time to when he had given her a magical kiss in the moonlight.
How could she forget that? It was as though his kiss had enchanted her.
Eugene lifted his head and met her gaze. “Nice to see you again, Miss Nicholson.”
Oh, formal again. Margaret curtsied before him. “How nice to see you again, Lord Burton.”
He shot her a cheeky smile and a wink, leaving Marjorie dumbfounded. Margaret had yet to tell her that Lord Burton was the mystery man she had encountered.
“And so soon,” Marjorie cut in. “We must be quite the company to host the Marquess of Sumberton twice today.”
Eugene scratched the back of his head. “Well, I planned to send word, but I thought I would come in person. I have contacted a small theater downtown that is hosting a play. I know your sister enjoys them, so I’d like to ask her to accompany me.”
Out of the corner of Margaret’s eye, she saw Marjorie practically glowing with excitement. Margaret glanced down at her plain, professional outfit from earlier, noting the dirt stain from the asphalt on her skirt. Thankfully, the dark navy fabric concealed it well.
“I’d love to, Lord Burton, but I’m afraid I’m not dressed for such an occasion.”
“Nonsense,” Eugene said, scanning her attire. “You look perfect in what you are wearing.”
“Lord Burton,” Marjorie said in her sly, flirty tone. “Forgive my boldness, but you claim to be of nobility; surely you must be blind. This attire is far from appropriate for a night out.”
Margaret blushed and twiddled with her loose strands of hair. Eugene didn’t budge. “Well, forgive me, Miss Nicholson, but I believe she looks perfect in anything.”
Marjorie pulled on Margaret’s sleeve. “Margaret, surely you cannot go like this. Let’s find a more suitable outfit.”
“We cannot leave Lord Burton unattended. He’s our guest,” Margaret reminded.
“I will be fine,” Eugene said. “If you are in need of a wardrobe change, I shall be quite comfortable alone.”
Margaret looked at her sister, who nodded with serious eyes. “Very well. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Before Eugene could say anything further, Marjorie grabbed Margaret’s hand, and they dashed up the stairs. Margaret struggled to match her sister’s urgent pace. When they reached the second floor, their parents stopped them in their tracks.
“What’s the hurry?” their father asked.
Margaret’s heart pounded even harder. Daddy hadn’t been too keen on Eugene’s company earlier. Now, Eugene was asking her to spend the evening with him.
“I-um,” Margaret’s voice stumbled.
“Lord Burton is here!” Marjorie blurted.
“Again?” Mama questioned, her brows raising.
Daddy peered down from the balcony that overlooked the foyer, while Eugene strolled around the area, admiring the paintings on the wall. Margaret’s father looked away. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“He wants to take Margaret to the theater tonight,” Marjorie answered.
Daddy stiffened, and Mama pulled her arm around him. “I don’t see the harm in that. He seems like a respectable gentleman.”
“And he didn’t think to ask my permission?” Daddy hissed.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend you, Daddy,” Margaret assured. “He’s downstairs if you’d be more comfortable to speak of the matter.”
Her father stood straighter. “He’s about to be uncomfortable.”
Mama took hold of his loose sleeve. “Collin, don’t. Remember, Margaret is almost twenty-one, the perfect age to entertain suitors.”
“Daddy, I understand you’re worried, but please let me go.” Margaret’s voice softened. “Let me have this chance.”
Daddy stayed silent. He kept an eye on Eugene then turned back to Margaret. “Be careful, Margaret. Don’t be desperate.”
“I promise.” She couldn’t be desperate with Eugene.
It felt like an answer to her prayers that he was someone who truly understood her.
He was easy to talk to, and she could be herself.
She wasn’t pretending to be Margaret Nicholson, the heiress.
She was still just Margaret of Charlottesville.
She could almost guarantee it wouldn’t be like that with another suitor—specifically one she’d have to practically drag to the altar.
With Eugene, her attraction seemed natural.
“I will go downstairs and speak with him,” Daddy said calmly. “I will be a gentleman about it as long as he is.”
Margaret’s chest strained as she leaned over the railing, watching her father meet with Eugene.
She feared her lungs might burst as they shook hands.
Everything seemed to calm around her, but her heart raced.
For what heart would beat normally when it had been so close to death just hours ago yet so close to love now?
Margaret was nearly blinded by the bright lights of The Lyric Theatre’s sign.
The building appeared quite old, yet the modern technology gave it a timeless quality.
It rose five stories high, with endless rows of windows, and the sign stretched over the corner of the top roof as though it might tip over at any second.
However, the sign stood still and stable, defying its precarious appearance.
The theater was not far from Maplebrook, which situated on the eastern side of Richmond. She and Eugene had remained quiet during the ride, especially as Margaret avoided looking at the road. The outside hadn’t darkened, but when they arrived, the sun hung lower in the sky.
Eugene offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Margaret gladly took his hand as he led her towards the theater.
She had changed into the outfit Marjorie chose for her—something she wouldn’t have picked herself but appreciated nonetheless.
The baby blue blouse paired with a flowy skirt was a lovely touch, accented by the white and blue floral scarf.
Upon entering the theater, Margaret was immersed by the smell of buttery popcorn and soda, transporting her to her childhood when her parents took her to the Virginia State Fair when they previously lived in Richmond.
“Would you like some popcorn, Margaret?” Eugene asked.
She was tempted by the enticing smells, but the thought of food made her nauseous from the unsettled nerves churning inside her. “I think not but thank you.”