Page 11 of The Duke's Stolen Heart
Without you, these past months amongst strangers would have been impossible to bear. I regret that I must leave you on such short notice. Farewell.
With affection,
Antonia Lowry
As goodbye notes went, it left much to be desired. In fact, only a girl as cotton-headed as Margaret would accept it at face value, particularly when the note’s author skulked back into the house dressed like a farmhand and reeking of corpse, as the despicable Duke of Havencrest had phrased it. A more suspicious woman would have raised the roof and started poking into Miss Lowry’s past. If she had anticipated such an outcome, she might have put more effort into the sincerity of the note.
“I couldn’t leave you without saying goodbye,” Antonia said after a beat. It was an outright lie. She could have moved on without ever thinking of Margaret again. Yet Margaret’s blue eyes welled with tears.
“I was so lonely before I met you, Toni,” she sniffled. Margaret plucked a lace-edged handkerchief from the drawer of her nightstand. Rather than delicately dab it to her cheek, she blew a honk worthy of a goose. The tip of her nose had turned a becoming shade of pink. The woman was incapable of ugliness. Even during her illness a few days ago she had been demure and sympathetic.
Whereas, Antonia had been born with vinegar in her blood. She had carved her way through life through sheer force of will to create this tenuous life for herself. Antonia covered the other woman’s hand with her own. Her throat scratched. Her eyes watered. A sneeze burned her sinuses. “Margaret. I’ve never had a friend like you.”
It was the truth, for all that mattered.
