Page 59 of His Highland Duchess
“It seems to me that there is one thing you can do. The only thing.”
Margaret winced, for she knew what her sister was going to say. “Tell me.”
“Speak to him. Tell him how you feel. Whatever the answer he gives, hiding from it will solve nothing. He deserves to know how you feel. And you deserve to tell him.”
“I ken,” she sighed. It was the only thing left to do, and yet it terrified her. For now, things were perfect, and she would have loved for them to stay as such. But it could not be that way as much as she wished it.
“Are we decent?” A knock at the door, and their mother stuck her head in.
“Decent enough,” Margaret sighed, only to force a smile and brighten up as she did not wish for her mother to suspect that anything was wrong. “I thought ye were taking a nap.”
“I was…” Their mother stepped inside the room and closed the door softly. “But yer father is out cold and I wished to talk with both of ye.” There was a look of abject worry on her face, and Margaret felt it reach her like a slap across the face.
Oh no. Does she suspect something? Is that what this is…
“Wh-what’s wrong?” she stammered, doing what she could to appear at ease.
Their mother walked across the room, head bowed and fiddling with her hands. When she did finally look up, the worry that she had been showing seemed to have increased tenfold.
“Mother,” Catherine began. “What is wrong?”
She sighed. “Yer father would kill me if he learned that I had told ye this, but ye both have a right to ken the truth of it.”
“Ken what?” Catherine pressed.
“It is yer father…” Their mother’s chin wobbled, but she forced it to stay. “He is sick –”
“What!” the two girls cried together.
“Quiet…” Their mother hissed and looked back as if expecting the door to burst open. “As I said, he daes nae wish for ye ta ken. But if the two of ye carry on as if –”
“Mother, what is wrong with Father?” Catherine asked. She found Margaret’s hand, holding it tight to her. Margaret’s heart was beating with worry, all thoughts of the duke fading because right now they hardly seemed important.
“It is his health,” she sighed and shook her head. “His heart, to be more specific. I will nae go into too many details. Truly, I dae nae have them all. But the doctors have been visiting him weekly this past month and they cannae say how long…” Her chin wobbled again and she sniffed loudly. “It could be weeks, months. Years if we are… if we are… if –” And that was when she burst into tears.
Together, Catherine and Margaret went to her, pulling her in and holding her in a tight hug.
Margaret’s mind raced with panic. Worry. Sadness. Every emotion there was, flooding her in seconds. She loved her father dearly, and her mother too. Her entire family! And the thought that soon it might not be whole, that her mother would be alone…I cannae imagine anything worse.
“Ye have no idea how happy I am to see the two of ye wed,” their mother sniffed. “Yer father, also. When we learned of his…” She sniffed, unable to say it. “That was what he said, and it brought him hope. He would have hated to have passed on, knowing that the two of ye were nae taken care of. At the very least, he will have that.”
It was like a knife through Margaret’s heart. When things could not seem to get any worse, somehow they managed to still. Until this moment, what she wished to speak to Lysander about had felt as if it would affect her only, and that she had a home to return to had provided a soft light at the end of a dark tunnel that she did not want to walk but would have been willing had it come to that. Her family was always going to be there…
Now, that was no longer the case. The survival of this marriage was no longer just about her and her future. It was about her father, too, his health, her mother’s happiness. So much resting on her shoulders that she could feel the weight pushing her down so that it might bury her.
As if things were not complicated enough…
All that was to say that Margaret needed to speak to Lysander. And she needed to do it soon. No more waiting. No more hoping. As soon as her family returned north and she and Lysander were alone once more, she would sit him down and ask him what their future held. And as for his answer…I ken deep down what it should be. I ken how he feels. But does he ken it? And will he admit it? Only time will tell…
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Iwant complete honesty,” Margaret told Lysander as they led their horses from the stable and across the paddock.
“Concerning?”
“This past week. How awful was it?”
He laughed as he led his horse to trot beside her own. The pace was steady and easy-going, as they were in no rush. “We’re speaking of your parents, I am assuming?”
