15. Chapter Fifteen #4
Margaret had never been so embarrassed in all her life.
Days ago, she had loathed the sight of Mr. McKinley and hated his presence, but now it was gentle, so gentle that she despised it.
She hated him seeing her this way. He had saved her life then heard all her vulnerabilities, and now this.
She was weak and incapable, as he had told her in the beginning.
It was only a matter of time until he scolded her for trying to prove herself strong.
She wasn’t strong. She was pathetic, and Mr. McKinley knew that better than anyone now.
“I’m fine,” Margaret snapped, pulling away from him. Mr. McKinley didn’t bother to bring her back to him. Instead, he stood in place, watching her.
“Are you certain? You seemed a little green.”
“I’m fine,” Margaret lied. “It’s only motion sickness.”
“It’s because of the accident, isn’t it? It happened in the dark.”
Margaret nodded. She felt like a coward. Mr. McKinley had survived worse things like war, and she was frightened of motorcars and the dark.
“It’ll pass. It’s just a phase I’ll grow out of.”
“It’s not a phase,” Mr. McKinley corrected with a serious tone. “Experiences like that will remain with you forever.”
Margaret faced him, hugging herself. “Why?”
“Because it’s a part of life, and it will never get better.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I relive it every day,” Mr. McKinley snapped. “Each night I have terrors, and the only way to escape them is through work. That’s why I’m always busy there.” Mr. McKinley huffed and looked at the ground. “The best days I had were when I was working solo in the loan office.”
Margaret’s eyes averted. She looked at the ground now that everything was coming together. “That’s why you didn’t want me there.”
Mr. McKinley stepped closer. “You’re a good worker, Miss Nicholson. You don’t let anything get in your way. The many times I tried to discourage you and how you stood your ground . . . it amazes me.”
Margaret’s heart stumbled over a beat. She looked up at Mr. McKinley’s shadowy face. She had imagined him looking cold and teasing her, but despite the moonlight, she could sense his gentle spirit, telling her he was speaking the truth. “Really?”
“Yes,” Mr. McKinley said. “And I’d be honored if you stayed on permanently. I could use a good secretary like you to keep me in line.”
Permanently. That was a word Margaret avoided hearing.
She wanted to go home, but her family depended on her to unlock the fortune.
Her parents may not care, but her sisters would—that is if she told them.
Evie needed to go to school, and Marjorie needed to chase her dreams and travel.
A settlement home and a half-share in the Charlottesville bank wouldn’t give them their dreams.
However, one thing that bothered Margaret more than the fortune was her ideal match.
If Margaret decided to choose Eugene, she’d never stay in Richmond.
She’d never have a career. She’d just be a marchioness.
Grandmama had a list of other possible candidates, but none of them were Eugene.
They had a connection, and his presence put her at ease.
She needed that—to put the past behind her.
A man like Eugene would help calm her as he did in the theater.
Before Margaret could respond, she and Mr. McKinley were interrupted by bright headlights, blinding them. Margaret squinted until the lightning dimmed. The vehicles stopped and out came Daddy, running towards Margaret. When he came to her, they embraced.
“Mr. Agnes said you weren’t feeling well. Are you all right, Blossom?”
“I’m fine, Daddy,” Margaret answered calmly in contrast with her father’s anxious tone. “Just a little motion sick. You know me.”
Her father kissed her cheek and then averted his attention to Mr. McKinley. He reached out to shake his hand. “Thank you for escorting her home. You don’t know how much this means to her mother and me, knowing she had someone to look out for her.”
“I just wanted to do what was right.”
“Why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow night?” Daddy asked, making a wave of shock course through Margaret. Never had she expected Mr. McKinley, of all people, to be invited to Maplebrook.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, we’d love to have you. It’s the least I could do to repay the hard work you did during my father’s illness. I hope it’s not too forward to call you a hero.”
“Please come.” The words slipped out of Margaret’s mouth without warning. Her cheeks burned hot as Mr. McKinley made eye contact with her.
“I suppose I could spare a few hours.”
“Excellent!” Margaret’s father exclaimed with joy. “I shall see you tomorrow morning at eight. We’ll continue this discussion then.”
He offered Margaret his arm, and she gladly attached herself.
“What a wonderful man,” Daddy said. “To think he spared time out of his night to escort you shows wonders.”
“I suppose so.”
Margaret looked back as Mr. McKinley entered the vehicle with Mr. Agnes. She’d see Mr. McKinley bright and early in a few hours, and for some strange, baffling reason, her heart raced at the thought.