She was formidable indeed. He wondered if after all he would come to dislike her intensely after he had lived with her for a while. Or if he would come to love her.
If the latter were the case, he suspected that he might love her with a passion to end passions.
Though where /that/ thought had come from he did not know. "Are you quite sure?" he asked.
She stared back at him. "I think," she said, "I must believe in fate. I have never thought much about it before now, but I think I must believe in it. The last few days have been bizarre. Ten days ago I was still at Warren Hall – I left there late in the morning to come to town. Four days ago I was planning to attend Lady Tindell's ball and hoping to meet the Marquess of Allingham there and rekindle our friendship. Four days ago I had not even met you.
And then a whole series of strange things happened at the ball that led up to my colliding with you – and a string of events had happened to you that had brought you there in search of a bride. So much has happened since then that sometimes I think I have crammed a whole year's worth of living into a few days. All this cannot possibly have happened just by chance or for nothing. If I send you on your way this morning and return to my former life, I will forever suspect that I missed the whole point of my life. This /has/ to be the point, or why has it all happened?
There have been so many coincidences that I cannot escape the conclusion that it has not been coincidence at all. Perhaps fate intends that I be a mother to your little boy, Lord Sheringford." "And a wife to me?" he said.
She hesitated and then nodded. "Yes," she said. "Strange, is it not? I hope I am not wrong. I hope we do not all end up living unhappily ever after." He got to his feet and extended a hand for hers. She set her own in it and rose to stand before him. "I will do my very best," he said, "to see that you do not regret your decision but that rather you will rejoice in it. I said that Toby must come first in my life. But you will not be second, Maggie. I do not believe life and relationships work that way." He raised her hand to his lips and turned it to kiss her palm.
His heart was aching. She had persuaded him to bring the secret out into the open when they returned to Woodbine – and he had capitulated because he knew she was right. Toby had been hidden in the shadows for too long.
But he was well aware that what he had really agreed to was the opening of a Pandora's box. It had started last evening, in fact, when he had told her about some of the events surrounding his elopement with Laura Turner. It would not end at Woodbine, though. Woodbine was not a world unto itself. Word of its doings sometimes spread beyond its boundaries – especially if they were unusual and interesting doings.
Toby needed freedom. But what might be the cost of that freedom? "I had better take my leave," he said. "I may return this afternoon as planned, then, may I, and we will go to face the lion in his den?" "We will," she said. "I look forward to meeting the Marquess of Claverbrook. No one ought to be allowed to inspire as much fear as he appears to do." "I worshipped him as a child," he said. "He used to frown and harrumph and look ferocious whenever I saw him, and then he would invariably feel around in his pockets until he came out with a shilling. He would always look surprised and comment that /that/ was what had been digging into him before tossing it my way and telling me to spend it wisely on sweets." She laughed.
He bowed to her and took his leave.
And wondered if she was right.
Was this all fate?
Had the whole of his life been leading him to that strange meeting with Maggie Huxtable?
It was a dizzying thought.
He had a /son/. Margaret did not know why she had been taken so much by surprise. He and Mrs. Turner had been together for almost five years before her death, after all. In a sense, it was surprising there had not been more than one child.
He had told her on a previous occasion that he had never loved Mrs.
Turner – not in any romantic sense. All this was very reminiscent of Crispin. Was love impossible for men? Or /romantic/ love, anyway? It was a depressing thought.
It was a good thing she was no longer looking for romantic love.
Vanessa arrived soon after Lord Sheringford had left. She had come to rejoice with her sister over the fact that he was not after all the villain everyone thought him to be. But she did not stay long. She had promised the children an outing – indeed they were outside with their nurse in the carriage waiting for her – and would not disappoint them.
Half an hour after Margaret had waved them on their way, Katherine came.
She had been at the library when Margaret's note had been delivered, but she had read it with such delight even before taking off her bonnet that she had come without delay to hug her sister and even shed a few tears over her. But Jasper was expected home at any moment, and she wanted to be there to share the good news with him. "Oh, Meg," she said when she was leaving, her eyes shining with tears, "your marriage is going to turn into a love match. Just wait and see." Margaret did not say a word to either of them about the child.
Tobias – Toby. She wondered what last name he bore.
They would know soon enough, though, she supposed. She was determined that the little boy would not be hidden away in some dark corner with an assumed identity, as if there were something shameful about him.
Everyone in the neighborhood of Woodbine Park would know who he was.
There were scores of gentlemen, she was well aware, who had illegitimate children, most of them hidden discreetly from the view of wives and polite society with their mothers or at some private orphanage or school.
It was not going to happen with the Earl of Sheringford's son. And let anyone try to sympathize with her at having to endure such an indignity.
She would give that person an earful!
Margaret dressed with care for the visit to the Marquess of Claverbrook.
It was important that he approve of her, though he would surely have no reason /not/ to unless he was playing games with his grandson and intended to disapprove of anyone who was presented to him. Well, she would give /him/ an earful too if that were the case.
She left her room as soon as she heard the door knocker. She was feeling quite martial, perhaps because inside she was quaking with nervousness.
She paused at the top of the stairs when she saw that Stephen was in the hall with her betrothed. He was shaking his hand. "I will not apologize," he was saying, "for the manner in which I have received you during the past few days, Sheringford. My primary responsibility is to my sisters, especially Meg, who lives under my roof and to whom I owe more than I can ever repay. I would do anything in my power to protect her from harm or lasting unhappiness – and all the available evidence suggested that you might well bring her both. But she told me something this morning, in strictest confidence, that has convinced me I have misjudged you. I do hope that if I were ever called upon to make a decision as excruciatingly difficult as the one you faced five years ago, I would have the courage to make the same choice you made – and to keep it a secret too, according to the lady's wishes.
Indeed, I honor you." "Nothing has changed, you know," the earl said. "Miss Huxtable will still be marrying a social pariah. I am still guilty of jilting one woman and stealing another from her lawful husband. I take it your sister also informed you that she has accepted my offer?" "She has," Stephen said, "and I must confess that I still felt it my duty to caution her, as marriage to you will /not/ be easy. I respect her decision, though. Meg is nothing if not courageous." "I will do my utmost – " the earl began, but Margaret cleared her throat at that point and made her descent.
Lord Sheringford bowed to her. "Maggie," he said. "Lord Sheringford." /"Maggie/?" Stephen said with a laugh. "That is a new one." "A new name for a new life," she said, "as Lord Sheringford pointed out a few evenings ago. I believe I rather like it. It makes me seem less dull and staid. I am ready." "/Dull/?" Stephen said, laughing. "/Staid/? You, Meg?" He kissed her cheek and waited to see them on their way. It still seemed strange to realize that he was all grown up, that he was the one now who felt responsible for /her/.