Page 68 of His Highland Duchess
“Margaret…” He leaned back further.
“Nae because I want to,” she said. “But because I have to. We tried to make it work. We tried to prove that it could. It seems that we have both been proven wrong…”
Her world crashed and went up in a blaze of fire. Body shaking. Heart cracking. It took all the strength she had not to throw herself at Lysander and take back her words. More than that, she knew that if Lysander continued to push and deny her, she would not be able to keep up the fight.
Please fight me on this… tell me no… deny me… refuse to listen…
“Is that… is that what you truly think?” Lysander asked, his voice turned cold suddenly.
“It is,” she said, voice cracking. “I think we both ken it is for the best.”
Lysander took a moment for himself. His breathing was ragged; he tried to contain it, but his body was shaking, and she couldfeelthe despair leaking from him. The room turned cold, and although he sat right before her, it felt as if he was a million miles away. The rift spread, and suddenly this marriage, which had felt so strong and assured, was a weak thing that seemed as if it had been destined to shatter.
“As you say.” He stood suddenly, unable to even look at her. “I will leave you.” And then he turned and strode across the room.
Her heart broke as she watched him go.Was this the right thing? Am I a fool? Oh, I undoubtedly am. I just pray he kens I am a fool who’s intentions were right.
“There is still one month until the Season’s end,” he said once he reached the door. “During which, I intend to do everything I can to squash these rumors, which I expect you to take a hand in.” He looked at her for an answer, but she could barely react. “And then, once I am certain there is no more that we can do…” He hesitated, eyes shut, taking a breath. “You will return to Scotland. Is that understood?”
“It is,” she said. “For the best.”
He winced and looked away. She stared at him with pleading eyes because she wanted him to know how much this hurt her. How much she did not want it! Emotions washed over her, every one she had ever felt. Again, that urge to change her mind. To admit fault. To beg forgiveness!
But Margaret did nothing. She was a statue, torn from her body so that it felt like she was watching this scene play out from afar.
“I will leave you to rest,” he said, half stepping through the door. “Oh, and about supper tonight. Perhaps it is best if you do not join me and my daughters. I would not want you to be a bad influence on them.” He stepped through the door and closed it.
The moment she was alone, Margaret collapsed onto her bed in a heap.
The right thing was done. She had to believe that. Such was her love for Lysander and his daughters that she had taken the only means she felt she could to protect them. But that did not make her feel any better… the complete opposite, in fact.
It was a marriage that was never supposed to work. An end date had been set. Terms had been given. The promise of love and happiness was never considered because how could such a thing be found between two souls so different? Somehow, it had been, only to be taken away for reasons that made less sense now that she was alone.
I pray that one day he will forgive me. That one day I might forgive meself. But that brings me little comfort, and likely it never will…
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Margaret spent the night in a most wretched state. Although she felt that she had made the right decision, she still could not convince herself of this truth.If it is right, why does it hurt so much?
Tossing and turning in her bed, she was at pains to come to an answer that satisfied. Her feelings for Lysander had not changed, and she was certain his hadn’t either. Perhaps she had been wrong? Perhaps she had spoken too quickly? Perhaps… perhaps there was still a chance to make things right?
On the following morning, Margaret came to a decision. It was as the sun rose and broke through her room that she readied herself for the morning ahead. Yesterday, so much had been said while so little had been discussed. She had hurt Lysander, and she hated herself for that. But it still might not be too late. As foolish as she felt, what if she were to apologize and talk this through? Was there a chance that he would forgive her and, together, they might come to an answer that would protect his daughters and save this marriage?
I cannae avoid him or leave it where it is. I saw in his eyes how much he cares for me, just as I care for him. I need to make this right.
She walked through the halls and toward the breakfast room in a state of nervous anxiety. As she went, she could hear Lysander and the voices of his daughters drifting. They sounded happy, a state of being she prayed would not change…
“Margaret!” Aurelia cried when she saw her. “You’re out of bed!”
“Guid morning to ye to…” She smiled for Aurelia and then Lenora, before letting her eyes drift to Lysander, who sat at the head of the table. He was not looking at her, focused on the plate before him, his expression stern and dispassionate. “I am feeling so much better,” she explained as she entered the room. “I thought I might join ye for breakfast.”
Aurelia and Lenora were thrilled to see her, but that was not Margaret’s focus. As she sat herself down to Lysander’s left, she watched him hopefully, needing him to look up andseeher so he would know that she was aware of the mistake she’d made.
“How… how did ye sleep?” she asked Lysander gently. “I…” She hesitated, knowing what she needed to say but not knowing how to say it. “I think we need to speak later, if it pleases ye.”
Lysander stiffened, and she knew right away that a simple fix was not what Lysander had in mind.I suppose it was always too much to hope for…
“Girls, I am afraid I have some news.” Lysander looked at his daughters, still refusing to meet Margaret’s eyes. “Before I give it, I want you both to know that this has nothing to do with either of you. It is simply the way of things, and I hope you understand that it is for the best.”
