Chapter 35- Margaret
It was only when Margaret finally descended the stairs, Rachel by her side, that she realized her maid’s duplicity. For it was not Callum waiting for her in the library but his cousin, Ellis.
He stood before a polished table that held a collection of seashells and small pieces of driftwood that her brother had found in his travels. The majority were displayed in glass boxes, with some prime examples presented on stands under clear domes.
Margaret thought that William’s collection belied his secretly-soft heart. He refused to display pinned moths or butterflies, instead finding beauty in nature’s cast-offs.
“Don’t mind me,” Rachel said to Ellis cheerfully, waving her fingers.
“I’ll just be over here selecting a very heavy encyclopedia volume in case Margaret has need of it.
” She paused and turned to Margaret. “Which do you think you could wield better, CAR to COM, or RAN to SER? You know what? No matter—I’ll just pull both.
One is undoubtedly better for swinging, the other for throwing. ”
Ellis smiled at her, but there was something about his eyes that spoke of sadness as Rachel disappeared into the bookcases.
“Your maid was polite enough to bring a tray,” He said in lieu of a conventional greeting to Margaret. He nodded toward the desk. “Your cook makes the most marvelous biscuits. I should like to get the recipe before we leave for Scotland.”
Margaret gripped the back of the wooden desk chair for support. “You’re leaving?”
His eyes were focused when he said, “There’s only one ball left, and Callum doesn’t believe there’s any reason for him to stay in London. Not when the woman he loves has told him to leave her be.”
Margaret swallowed deeply. All the things she wanted to say crowded at the forefront of her mind until she could barely think straight, let alone formulate a coherent sentence.
She wanted to tell Ellis that she already regretted what had transpired in the park that morning, but all she could manage was to swallow down the choking sensation in her throat.
“He won’t tell me what happened, but it must have been disastrous.” Ellis lifted his gaze from the seashells. “I assume he finally told you?”
Margaret managed a nod.
Ellis stared at the floor, his hands in his pockets. “He’s miserable. In fact, he’s spent most of the Season in a state of vexation for one reason or another.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Why?”
“You.” He gestured at her. “Any other gentleman with his looks and title would be having the time of his life in London. Stringing ladies along and enjoying being admired. But it’s Callum’s sense of honor that’s always gotten in the way of him having a good time.
He didn’t come to London for merry-making. He came to find a good wife.”
Margaret gripped the back of the chair tighter. Wasn’t this precisely what Callum had told her?
“And he fell in love with you first through your words, but I was there when he saw you in the park that first day. On the way home, he was a fretful mess.”
“Whyever for?”
He chuckled. “I finally badgered him into telling me, and he admitted his sights were set on you in particular. He told me he wasn’t going to make it through the first Season without having a blackened eye every other week.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Because of all the fights he was going to get into, trying to keep the other gentlemen away from you!”
“What?” Margaret said, flabbergasted.
“Begging your pardon, but at first I thought for sure he was speaking of your sister Lily. No offense meant.”
“None taken.”
“It was very difficult for me, growing up with him.” Ellis ran his finger down the side of a glass cloche that held a twisted knot of driftwood, then studied her once more.
“Callum was always better at everything. He was always taller, faster, smarter, more likeable. And then there was the issue of his title when I would inherit none.”
Though Ellis paused as if waiting for a response, Margaret didn’t know what to say. She kept her hands fastened to the back of the chair as if it were her anchor.
“In fact, I came close to hating him several times in our youth. The only thing that stopped me was the fact that Callum is the best person I have ever known. Of course, you’ve spent enough time with him that I shouldn’t have to explain this to you.”
He shook his head as if he were disappointed in her. Margaret felt his censure keenly—not because she and Ellis were so close, but because she was weighed down by the truth of his words.
He continued, “The only reason I can imagine for you sending him away is that your own pride was damaged. Perhaps it’s too much for you to overcome—that he got to read your private thoughts.
Therefore, unbeknownst to him, I’m returning the favor.
” Ellis dug in his jacket pocket and tossed a leather-bound journal onto the desk.
It nearly slid off; Margaret had to catch it. “What’s this?”
“His private journal. He’s been writing in that thing ever since he found yours.
” Ellis pointed at the book she held. “If that isn’t enough to convince you that you’re wrong in this matter, then you might as well throw it in the fire after you’re finished.
For I’ll do everything within my power to make sure he never thinks of you again. ”
Rachel appeared from behind a bookcase hefting a tome in each hand. “I think we should start with the A’s,” she said cheerfully. “They look as if they’ll fly through the air with wonderful accuracy.”
“No need.” Ellis held up his hands. “I’m leaving.”
He turned toward the door and Margaret wanted to say something to keep him from going, but she hardly knew what. She gripped Callum’s journal so hard that her fingers blanched.
Ellis paused in the doorway. “I’m doing my best to convince Callum that he should finish out the Season by going to the last ball at the end of this week. If there’s no purpose in that, please send me word. Those things bore me to tears.”