Page 46 of Much Ado About Margaret
“Not long, two days, perhaps, three at most,” he promised her, just as drowsy. His fingertips never quite finished their message. “Afterward we shall have forever.”
20
Do as the heavens have done: Forget your evil;
With them forgive yourself.
The Winter’s Tale, Act 5, Scene 1
Bridger left before he could be tempted to stay. It felt Herculean, leaving the darling yellow-haired siren in the bed, and creeping out before dawn to collect his brother and go. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, then pulled the blankets snug to her chin and left, hoping to retreat to his own designated guest quarters before his absence was noted by the housekeeper.
He yearned to stay, but the storm had dulled to just a heavy mist, and the sooner he was on the road, the sooner he could return. Not even Pimm’s sour, drooping face could dim his spirits as he hired the carriage for them, herded his brother into the back, and they began the short journey to Fletcher.
“What will happen to Ruby?” his brother asked.
It tore Bridger out of his thoughts. He had been staring out at the countryside as it eased by, his mind not in the carriage atall but still in bed with Margaret. He had just been busy chastising himself for not leaving a note apologizing for the early exit.
“I don’t rightly know,” Bridger replied, sighing. He rested his elbow on the door, his chin on his fist. “Mar— Miss Arden seems determined to blunt the blow where her forgery is concerned. I think she hopes the vicar will never notice the false license and Ruby will suffer only for the scandal of that misguided kiss. What were you thinking, Pimm? You put her on display for the whole of the estate to see at the masquerade. If Ann’s reputation is to be mended then Ruby’s will be torn to shreds.”
Pimm sagged in his seat, picking at the callouses on his palms. “The Graddocks are plum wealthy, that’s what I was thinking. Ruby was tolerable enough. I could have put up with her, I think.”
“Until she bored you and you cast her aside for a mistress,” Bridger added, knowing his brother too well.
“And?” Shaking his head, Pimm snorted and glared out the other window. “At least there would be money.”
“Money enough to justify shooting your own brother?”
“You lit the wrong tinder, brother. It…” Pimm pounded lightly on the side of his head with one fist. His eyes were glazed, vacant, and his mouth was twisted to the side in pain. “My head will just throb, the world goes blank, and it’s like…like the future disappears.” A rare moment of lucidity seemed to take him, perhaps owing to the lack of brandy in the carriage. But there was more, Bridger thought, watching Pimm’s face relax. “I was a boy once, wasn’t I? I had hopes, a thought of what I would be one day, but that hope gets beaten out of you.”
They were quiet for a while.
“I dragged mud into his study on my shoes once,” Pimm said suddenly. “He took the heaviest book he had off his deskand threw it at my head. I couldn’t see straight for days, felt like my brain would explode out of my ears.”
“Did he call a physician?”
“A doctor?” Pimm roared with laughter. “He hates them.”
“That’s all he has for company now,” said Bridger. He had not slept well, distracted by the beauty lying in his arms and concerned for her comfort, wedged himself against the wall to allow her as much room as the tiny bed allowed. Scrubbing his sandy eyes with his knuckles, he fidgeted in the seat, finding the carriage too small for two large men.
“Doctors cost money.”
“Anyway, if you were dreaming of a lavish settlement, I doubt you would get a shilling from the Graddocks,” Bridger replied, stifling a yawn. His arm ached where the bullet had grazed him, though Margaret’s fastidious work had held through the night, and the bandage hadn’t budged. It would need to be cleaned and redressed when they reached Fletcher. “The colonel might not preside over his daughters directly, but mark my words, he would have discovered the fraudulent nature of the license and had you taken before the constable. His reputation is spotless, his keenness of mind well-known and well feared. Although, given this caper, perhaps not well enough.”
“Then I suppose you want my thanks,” Pimm muttered.
“An apology will suffice.”
“You might be waiting for that a long while.”
“There is plenty of road yet to travel, brother.”
More silence, and it was bitter.
Bridger contented himself with examining the damage left behind by the storm. The carriage often slowed to navigate the pits and ruts. Many trees were downed along the road, as if a giant had clumsily walked the route. His brother fidgeted, probably desperate for drink.
“What’s your scheme, then?” his brother asked, voice dripping with skepticism. “Does the Arden girl have a sizable dowry? You can’t be after her for her looks.”
Bridger shot him a warning glare but did not take the obvious bait.
