Wentworth Hall (21 page)

My mother, too, came from Dutch South Africans who farmed to make their fortune. How I wish I had known her better. I’m certain she would have loathed the stuffiness of English society. In that way I am truly her daughter.

After reading several earlier pages, Maggie sighed, shutting the notebook and laying the pillows back over it. They were certainly uninformative and disappointing, though they did explain Jessica’s haughty disdain. The bad reception she’d been given in London had set her against the English aristocracy, which the Darlingtons represented to her.

Nora had convinced her that Jessica was the author
of the satires, but there wasn’t a word in the journal about Jessica having written them. And more importantly, no observations about the Darlingtons that indicated she’d uncovered any of their secrets. The only mention of the satires was one entry where Jessica confessed that she found the pieces hilarious and accurate, implying that the Darlingtons deserved the mockery they were getting. When Maggie read that, anger put red blotches into her cheeks, but it didn’t prove that Jessica had authored the newspaper pieces.

If it wasn’t Jessica, then who was it?

Lila wasn’t even close to the library when she heard Jessica’s laughter tinkling like chimes down the hallway. She realized that in the whole time Jessica had been at Wentworth Hall, Lila had never heard Jessica as much as giggle, not even once. What could be the cause of this merriment?

Upon entering the library, Lila came upon Jessica smiling flirtatiously at Ian, who sat on the other end of the leather couch regaling her with a tale of some sailing mishap. Lila was struck with a hard snap of jealousy. Why was Jessica standing so close to Ian? It certainly appeared that Jessica was enjoying his company— she was friendlier
to him than she’d ever been to any of the Darlingtons.

“Lila!” Ian greeted her with a smile.

The lively shine in Jessica’s eyes dulled into annoyance. “Hello, Lila,” she said stiffly.

“What have you got there?” Ian inquired with a nod at the book tucked in Lila’s hand.

“Oliver Twist,”
Lila reported.

“That’s one of my favorite books,” Ian revealed with enthusiasm. “How are you liking it?”

“I love it!” Lila fibbed, wanting to strike a common bond with him. “I came up here to read it. I had no idea anyone was in here.”

“Don’t let us stop you from reading,” Jessica said without warmth. Clearly her intent was to keep Lila from joining their conversation.

“Yes, don’t let us keep you from it,” Ian agreed. “When I was reading
Oliver Twist
, I was aggravated by any interruption to my progress. All I wanted to do was get on with the story. Do sit and read. I’ll keep my voice down. Can you concentrate if we keep talking?”

“Of course,” Lila said, settling into the hunter green leather high-backed chair across from the couch. She
suddenly wanted to devour the novel as quickly as possible so that she would have some reason to talk to him. Besides that, her goal was to keep Jessica occupied and Ian was doing a better job of it than she ever could. “Continue telling Jessica your story and I’ll settle in here to read,” she said. “You won’t bother me.”

“Yes, do tell me the rest,” Jessica said brightly. “I’m dying to hear how this ends.”

Lila opened the book and immediately came upon a piece of lined paper folded in thirds. Curious, she undid it and saw it was a letter addressed to Maggie. Turning it revealed that it was from Michael. With darting eyes, she raced through it:

My Most Dear Maggie
,

I write you today begging your forgiveness. I have been an insensitive fool and caused you great pain. I don’t know how I could have been so blind to have not realized that I am the father of darling little James. It angered me at first to think you had kept this from me. But now that my eyes have been opened, it fills me with remorse that you have had to go though so much on your own without my help or support. You are such a brave and strong person. You could have easily given
our boy up for adoption but you chose instead to make sure he would be raised under your watchful eye as a member of your own family. This touches me deeply and fills me with the greatest respect for you.

One thing I do not regret is the night of love we shared that produced our son. Had I known he was conceived, I would have moved Heaven and Earth to make a life for us. Now that I do know, I humbly ask you for that chance. You would be giving up so much, but I would treat you like a queen in a way that no duke or earl could match. If you will accept me as your husband, I swear I will spend the rest of my days endeavoring to make you and little James the two happiest people on the planet. It’s true we have many obstacles, but I know we can set everything to right as long as we are together.

Love
,

Michael

By the time she was reading the last lines, tears were welling in Lila’s eyes. Poor Maggie! Poor Michael! She felt ashamed that she had been so angry with her sister. Of course she hadn’t wanted Lila along on the trip to France. It made perfect sense now. She had gone abroad to conceal
her pregnancy. What a lonely, frightening time she must have had. Their mother had been with her, but she was not exactly a warm, comforting presence. In fact, their mother’s disapproving coldness must have been more of a torment than a help to Maggie. No wonder her elder sister had become just a shell of herself.

What would become of them? They surely deserved more happiness than they were getting. How was it fair that they be denied happiness? Just because Michael didn’t have a title? Fat lot of good having a title was doing the Darlingtons these days!

“What’s going on, Lila?” Ian asked, looking at her with a puzzled, concerned expression. “You look so distressed. Are you to the part where Nancy gets murdered?”

He’d jolted Lila from her reverie and she looked up at him sharply. It took her a moment to understand what he’d said. “Oh, no, n-not yet,” she stammered. Seeing him reminded her of what he’d said the other day: that in America people were free to make their own fortunes. If Maggie went to America with Michael and the baby, could they also rise on their own merits? It seemed to her that they deserved the chance to at least try.

Chapter Twenty

D
ESPITE ALL OF HIS YEARS WORKING AS
a groom, Michael still took a certain solace in being around horses. He paused as he walked toward the stables to watch the horses grazing in the green pasture. Heads down, nibbling at the grass, they looked so calm and content. Michael sighed—oh, to be a horse. To not have to deal with the issues of being a human. To not have to worry about money, and society, and love… Michael sighed once again, shaking his head as if to shoo away his daydream, and continued walking toward the barn.

The familiar pungent smell of hay and horse sweat greeted his nostrils as he approached the stalls. He
considered it a good thing that there was always so much work to be done around the barn. It kept his mind off troubling matters around the manor. He opened the creaky door to the tack room, where he was suddenly greeted by an unexpected sight.

“Lila! What are you doing here?”

Lila didn’t move from her sitting spot on top of an old tack box. She raised her head slowly to meet Michael’s eyes. “I have a plan,” she said in a more serious tone than Michael had ever heard her use before.

“A plan?” he asked as he entered the small, dusty room. He now wondered how much Lila knew, and how much she had pieced together after overhearing him and Maggie the night of the duke’s ball. Suddenly self-conscious, he strode forth and picked up a saddle off one of the racks, bracing it against his hip as he searched the line of bridles hung up on the wall to find the corresponding one.

Lila jumped up from her seat, shedding her air of contemplation and donning one of action. Snatching an equally grimy brown leather bridle off of the wall, she held it out for Michael. He paused before taking it, hand outstretched, yet hesitant to take it from her, as if there would
be some unforeseen catch if he were to do so.

“What, may I ask, is this epic plan regarding?” he asked slowly, hand still wavering in the air.

Lila plopped the dusty bridle into his open hand. “You and Maggie. I have a way for you two to be together.”

His expression changed from one of tentative interest to one of exasperation. Exhaling loudly and spinning on his heel toward the door, he took a step forward but was blocked by a quick-moving Lila. She stood in the door frame, arms braced against the wood, making it clear she wouldn’t let him through until he heard her out.

“You shouldn’t be involved in this, Lila,” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s my sister. And she loves you. The real kind of love that doesn’t go away when it’s no longer fun. Besides, my plan is quite good!” Lila insisted, shifting slightly to the left as Michael tried to duck under her arm. Blocking him, she added, “You knew the old version of my sister. She was adventurous, wild, and reckless. Someone like that doesn’t just change.”

Michael stepped back, his eyes squaring up Lila. “Whatever this plan is of yours, how do you know Maggie will go for it?”

“Haven’t you been listening? Because she loves you,” Lila said simply, allowing her arms to drop from the door frame. Michael brushed past her and into the barn aisle. Lila scurried after him. “I know my sister. What’s more, I know I can
convince
my sister to go along with this plan. But
you
have to be willing to do it.”

Michael tossed the saddle and bridle down upon the aisle floor, a small cloud of dust rising in the air as he did. “And what, pray tell, is this ingenious plan of yours?” He was growing frustrated with being reminded of the unfortunate situation he was in. It had taken so much for him to finally give up hope. The notion that he and Maggie could someday be together just brought up feelings of bitter pain now. And here Lila was, bothering him about it.

“You’re just going to have to trust me.” Lila insisted, sincerity in her voice.

“Why? Why should I just trust you?” Michael asked, spitting the word “trust” out like it tasted bad. “I’ve been through enough. Don’t go getting my hopes up for a plan that will just fall apart.”

“Because this is your final chance to do something to save you and Maggie. The only thing you have to do is
trust me,” Lila pleaded, reaching forward and grasping his hand to drive home her point. “Just trust me,” she whispered, staring pleadingly into his eyes.

Michael stared back, arms crossed. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a cough with a decided point to it, clear someone was making his or her entrance known. Whirling around, the pair’s eyes landed upon Wesley.

“Sorry. Was I… interrupting something?” Wesley asked, eyes drifting from Lila to Michael and back again. Michael let out a loud, short laugh, removing his hand from Lila’s grasp.

“Not at all. Lila was just leaving, weren’t you, Lila?” Michael asked, tilting his head at her.

Lila gave one last imploring look at Michael, hoping to make her point clear without words. “Yes. I was just leaving, indeed. Michael,” she said, addressing him head-on, “I will be seeing you later.”

Giving no reply, Michael directed his attention to Wesley as Lila strode stiffly out of the barn. Wesley toyed with a piece of broken wood that was hanging from one of the stall doors. With his shoulders slumped forward and
a distant look in his eyes, Michael wondered what was wrong with him.

“M’lord?” asked Michael softly as he stepped closer to the distracted-looking man.

Wesley jumped at the sound of Michael’s voice. Startled, he said, “Oh! Yes. Uhm… please get my horse ready for me. I think I should like to go for a ride. A distraction would be marvelous about now.”

Michael nodded. “Right away, m’lord.”

Therese’s shoes clacked softly against the cold tile floor. Her breath was shallow as her nerves drew tense for the conversation that was about to occur. Now that Wesley knew the truth, she couldn’t stay here. Once Wesley confronted his…
their
father, she would be out on the streets. Which meant Therese had to talk to Lord Darlington before Wesley did. It was the only way.

She drew in a deep, steadying breath as she raised her fist to knock upon Lord Darlington’s study door. Exhaling, she gave three short raps upon the dark mahogany. Therese winced slightly as the noise reverberated throughout the large hallway. There was a long pause and no one answered.
Lord Darlington is always in his study at this time…
, she mused. Biting her lower lip, she raised a tentative fist to the door again, drew back her wrist, and prepared for another knock.