It was a chair that would probably be left empty for her use all her life if she did not marry, Margaret thought. No one must sit in it because it was Aunt Margaret's chair – or /Great/-Aunt Margaret's – and she needed to be close to the fire to keep the chill out of her aged bones and close enough to the mantel to prop her cane against it.
It was a horrifying glimpse into the future.
She seated herself and picked up the teapot. "I have not accepted the Earl of Sheringford's marriage offer," she said as the door closed behind the footman and Vanessa came to distribute the teacups. "Neither have I rejected it." She set the teapot down and looked up. They were all waiting for an explanation. The atmosphere was tense again. "He must be married before the Marquess of Claverbrook's eightieth birthday, which is in a little less than two weeks' time," she said. "If he is not, he will lose his childhood home and the income he has always derived from it. He will be forced to seek employment until his grandfather dies, which may be shortly in the future or a long time away – it is impossible to know. He will /not/ lose his home if he marries even one day before the birthday. With a special license it can be done almost at a moment's notice." "But you are not – " Katherine began. "I have told Lord Sheringford," Margaret said, "that it is possible I will marry him in two weeks' time, but that it is equally possible I will /not/. I informed him that it is up to him in the meanwhile to woo me, to convince me that marriage to him is what I want for the rest of my life. It was extremely risky for him to accept the challenge, but he did. If I say no, it will be too late for him to find someone else." "No one would have him, anyway," Stephen said, lowering himself into the nearest chair, "especially after last night and this morning." "I am not so sure of that, Stephen," Elliott said. "His future prospects are dazzling enough to tempt any father with some ambition, few scruples, and a marriageable daughter. And Woodbine Park itself is a not inconsiderable property." "But /why/?" Katherine asked, gazing at Margaret. "Why would you even /consider/ such a marriage, Meg? You must realize as well as we do that apart from a little embarrassment, your reputation will not suffer any real damage if you simply say no. Why did you even /see/ him today when Stephen was very willing to turn him away on your behalf?" They were questions they all wanted answered, though she had answered some of them this morning. Not one of them had touched their tea.
Vanessa had not even handed around the plate of cakes. "I behaved badly last evening," Margaret said. "I wanted Crispin to know that I was not eagerly waiting for him to pay attention to me and perhaps even pay court to me. And I was annoyed – no, /angered/ – when he came to rescue me from the earl's wicked clutches after talking with Nessie and Elliott. As if he were my keeper. As if I needed his protection. As if I had not been forced to protect myself /and/ my brother and sisters in all the years after he went off to join his regiment. And so I said something very rash and very foolish. I told him that the Earl of Sheringford was my betrothed. None of what happened for the rest of the evening or today has been his fault. Indeed, he has been the soul of honor." "Except that by your own admission he is desperate for a bride," Stephen said. "And you also told us last evening that he /suggested/ what you said to Dew. You appear to have played right into his hands, Meg." She felt humiliated at the confession she had just made about Crispin.
She had never spoken to anyone of her relationship with him or her terrible heartache and resentment after his betrayal. She had kept it all strictly to herself. /Had she really just come perilously close to admitting to the Earl of Sheringford that they had been lovers before Crispin went off to join his regiment/? "I believe," she said, "I owed Lord Sheringford the courtesy of receiving him this afternoon." "And the courtesy of marrying him?" Elliott asked. "He will be very persuasive during the next two weeks, Margaret. You may depend upon that. His livelihood hangs upon your saying yes. And he must be extraordinarily good at persuasion. Not so very long ago he talked a married lady into ruining herself and running off with him." "Though to be fair, Elliott," Katherine said, "it ought to be said that no one has ever accused him of taking Mrs. Turner against her will. I daresay she was at least partly to blame." "If he can be persuasive enough," Margaret said quietly, picking up her own saucer and carrying her cup to her lips with hands that were almost steady, "I will marry him. If he cannot, then I will not. It is as simple as that. The decision will be mine." There was an uncomfortable silence. "Perhaps," Stephen said, "we should all take the man to our collective bosom and encourage the match with all the enthusiasm we can muster.
Otherwise Meg will marry him to spite us – and will end up spiting herself in the process. You were always the most stubborn person I knew, Meg. If any of us ever wanted to do something and you said no, then no it was no matter how much we might beg and plead." The accusation stung. "I was /responsible/ for you all," she said. "I stood in place of both parents to you even though I was ridiculously young myself. You will never know the burden that was, Stephen – to do the job as well as I was able and even better than that. Failure was out of the question. And none of you have turned out so very badly." "Take Hal, love," Jasper said to Katherine, and he handed over the baby's limp sleeping form before getting to his feet and coming to sit on the arm of Margaret's chair and take one of her hands in both his own. "You did a superlative job, Meg. You proved dependable in that monumental task, and I for one would trust you with my life. More than that, I would trust you with my son's life if the need ever arose.
Sherry was a friend of mine before he ran off with Mrs. Turner. He was no wilder than any of the rest of us – which is not saying a great deal, it is true. He did what he did for reasons of his own. Perhaps he will tell you what they were one of these days. But you must make your own decision concerning him, and I for one will trust you to make the right decision. Right for /you/, that is, and not just for your family. It is time you took your life back into your own hands and lived it for yourself." He handed her a large linen handkerchief, and only then did she realize that she had been crying even before he left his place. She took it and spread it over her eyes, mortified. She had never been a watering pot.
She had perfected the art long ago of repressing all her deepest feelings so that other people would be able to rely upon her as steady and dependable. "Oh, Meg," Vanessa said, "/of course/ we all trust you. It is just that we all love you so very dearly and want your happiness more than we could possibly want almost anything else in the world." "Meg." Stephen's voice was filled with misery. "I did not mean a word. I am so sorry. Forgive me. It is just that you are more than a sister to me. I was the youngest. I hardly remember our mother. My memories even of our father are dim. /You/ were my mother, and a wonderful one you were too. You were the Rock of Gibraltar. I will never forget what I owe you. I /certainly/ do not owe you spite and bad temper." Elliott cleared his throat. "Sheringford will be treated with the proper courtesy this evening, Margaret," he said. "You may be assured of that." She dried her eyes and blew her nose and felt very foolish. "Thank you," she said. "Cook will be mortally offended if we send back the cake plate untouched." "I thought," Jasper said, "no one would ever think of offering it and that I was doomed to return home hungry." He picked up the plate and handed it around himself.
He had called her sexually appealing, Margaret remembered suddenly – the Earl of Sheringford, that was.
What shockingly outrageous words! /Sexually appealing/.
A treacherous part of her mind told her that it was perhaps the most delicious compliment anyone had ever paid her.