Page 23 of Much Ado About Margaret
“Dear Ann,” said Maggie as they passed through a square arch and into a shadowy bedroom. “Are you well?”
“Well? I’m furious!” Her friend was not strewn across herbed in distress, but rather fists-balled and planted near the balcony. It was the scene of the debacle, Maggie assumed, for it looked out onto the lawn and the pond farther across the grounds. “Furious and unwell.”
Her voice faltered, and Maggie went to her, supporting her with one arm around her waist. Ann pinched the top of her nose and hissed. Ann’s tagalong cousin rose from a bench near the window. Like Ann and Emilia, Ruby had brown skin and black hair, though hers was somewhat curlier. She didn’t share Ann and Emilia’s forthright beauty. She was mousier and darting, and when she spoke, her lips protruded forward, giving the appearance of a bunny nibbling clover.
“I’ve had the most unforgiving headache all evening and retired to sleep. Of course, I did not want to miss the gift from my parents, but I assumed fireworks would only worsen my condition, and now everything is ruined.”
Maggie helped her to an overstuffed chair near a writing desk and Ann slid into it, staring up with reddened eyes.
“Ask,” Ann grunted. “You must want to.”
“You love Lane with all your heart,” Maggie said at once. “There’s nothing to ask.”
Relief like sunshine broke across Ann’s face. “Then there’s hope,” Ann replied, voice thin and wavering. “It cuts deeply that he has jumped to a conclusion. But then, I hear it was a woman with black hair and my mask.”
“How did she come to have it?” Maggie asked.
Ann froze, her eyes sliding to the balcony again. “I wish I could tell you—”
Emilia, who had been lingering near the archway, made a strangled sound. “Think, didi, you must think! You know how these Englishmen are, if your story is not perfect and provable in every way then you will be blamed and ruined!”
“I know that!” Ann leapt to her feet, her voice powerful and full of pain. “Don’t you think I know that? I have combed overevery step I took this evening, every word I spoke, and breath I breathed, and the best I can remember is handing my veil and mask to someone at the stairs before I came here to rest.” She paused, sinking down onto the chair again. “It could have been any of the staff, for these upper halls must have been empty for most of the night.”
“That does somewhat complicate things,” Maggie replied. “Yet we can trace that claim, yes? We can speak to your staff, and they will know where the mask and veil were taken. Indeed, it could have been a servant on the balcony. Can you think of anyone who resembles you? Even a little?”
Again, Maggie’s eyes traveled to Emilia and then Ruby, and she studied them subtly, detecting nothing there but concern and fear. Both girls were dressed in lavish gowns, though she couldn’t remember seeing them among the crowd attending the fireworks. It would be something to ask Ann about privately, for it would be rude to cast suspicions about while the girls were standing there.
“Fanny has black hair and my height. She is one of my maids,” Ann said. She looked heartened by the promise of investigation. “I like to believe she would come forward and admit to the dalliance to spare me this humiliation, but I suppose everything and everyone must be questioned now.”
“Not me and not my sisters,” Margaret assured her. “We are your steadfast allies in this, Ann. I promise it.” Gently, she looked to Ann’s relations, adding, “And, of course, you have Ruby and Emilia.”
“It’s like a mystery from one of Emilia’s novels!” Ruby burst out, swishing her mouth to the side as she huddled against the wall.
“Hush, stupid, nobody has perished,” Emilia replied. “You are always bursting out with the most ridiculous notions. But even so, we will be determined in our pursuit of the truth. Ann deserves no less.”
And Maggie would find a way to bring Lane and Darrow around, too, for their word would matter. Ann nodded along to their words, distracted. “I thank you all, but it is very troubling, for there is the problem of the man that was with her. He must be located, too.”
“Tell me everything you can recall,” Ruby pressed.
“From a distance I could see that he was quite large, and I believe his hair was dark,” said Maggie, conjuring up the image of the couple embracing. “It was so quick and shocking, it’s hard to remember many details. His description could match so many of your guests…”
Ann made a wretched sound, tears gathering in her golden eyes. “How could Lane believe I would dishonor him in this way? And on our wedding day! I can never leave this room, Maggie, not without dying of shame.”
“The shame is not yours,” Emilia insisted, wringing her hands.
“That’s right, and now we must resolve to prove your innocence, if we can. Aunt Eliza has connections in London, there could even be a story in theEvening Gazetteto clear your name. But if we are to tell the story—the true story of what happened tonight—we must know what happened.” Maggie squeezed Ann’s hands, then left the desk and chair, pacing near the balcony.
Ann drew in a shaking breath. “If anyone can tell my story, it is you.”
“I thank you for that, Ann, but we will require facts. We must be able to explain the whole scandal, who was involved, and why. The mask and the veil—have your things been recovered?”
“No,” whispered Ann. “I found nothing on the balcony. Those figures might have never been there at all, just ghosts, figments sent to shatter my life and happiness.”
“Nothing is shattered yet,” Margaret insisted. She couldn’t have Ann giving up, though she understood her hopelessness.“As impossible as it may seem, you must stay strong, Ann. Your resolution will only strengthen your claim of innocence.”
“It is not a claim! It is the truth!”
They were out of time. Muted voices could be heard gathering strength outside Ann’s chamber door. Emilia went to investigate, returning quickly. “Mrs. Richmond is here, and she sounds impatient.”
