Chapter 12

The evening was upon her all too quickly. Margaret could not stop the overwhelming feeling of dread and discomfort. She gazed into the mirror, regarding her lavender gown, and she brought a gloved hand up to her chest to feel the diamonds about her neck. These were her mother’s diamonds, and Margaret recalled the prayer she had said to her mother. She sincerely hoped that she had heard it all.

“They are waiting for you,” Jane said, poking her head in the door.

“I shall be down in one moment.”

“Oh, now I am a mess of nerves. I cannot handle all of this tension.”

“They are probably both well into their cups by now,” Margaret said. “So I cannot imagine they are feeling any tension in the slightest.”

“You look beautiful,” Jane remarked.

“Did you deliver my letter?” Margaret asked, turning away from the mirror.

Jane nodded. “He was most eager to read it. I told him what is happening tonight, and I have never seen my brother so furious and concerned.”

Hearing this warmed Margaret’s heart. Yes, John was with her in spirit that night. With any luck, she would survive the whole ordeal and see John the very next day. She was desperate to see his shining blue eyes.

“Give me one more moment, and I shall come down,” Margaret assured her.

“Very well.”

With that, Jane exited the room, and Margaret turned towards the mirror once more. That was a woman that stared back at her, not a frivolous girl that always did what she was told. Margaret willed herself to breathe, knowing that the nerves would never cease for the rest of the evening.

When she finally felt steady enough, Margaret walked to the door and then down the hall. She could already hear her father and Darkmoor chatting and laughing. Their laughter was vexing, for inside, Margaret was weeping.

Once she finally entered the dining room, she discovered the two men seated and drinking wine. They did not even bother to look up at her as she entered, and Margaret took her seat in silence.

Finally, the viscount said, “I am glad that you decided to join us, daughter. You remember Lord Darkmoor.”

Margaret gazed into his black eyes. There was something impossibly smarmy about Darkmoor, and she noticed it even more on this occasion because he was leering at her. “I am happy to see you, Margaret.”

She bowed her head. “I… I am honored to be here.”

Oh, it was an impossible lie, but Margaret did not know what else to say! She was very much not happy to see him, nor was she honored. On the contrary, she found the fellow detestable.

“Daughter, Lord Darkmoor and I were discussing the preparations for your nuptials. There is no need for a special license, so the Banns shall be read beginning next week.”

To this, Margaret remained speechless. She had a feeling that they would move with great haste, but if they began the Banns next week, it meant that she would be married with the month. That was not enough time!

“I think it hasty,” Margaret remarked.

“You think everything is hasty, daughter. I am sure that you will be happy in Darkmoor’s company.”

Margaret felt sick to her stomach. At present, she was not happy in Darkmoor’s company, so how was that ever going to change?

The two men chatted and carried on during the soup course, and Margaret was at a loss. Finally, she could not help but speak her mind. “Father, I do not want to do this.”

Both men turned towards her in disbelief that she had said such a thing. But, then, a little twisted smile came to Darkmoor’s lips. “How very amusing,” he said.

“Why should you find that amusing? I do not know you, my lord. You have won me in a game of cards. Why should I wish to marry you?”

The viscount flung his napkin upon the table, not impressed in the slightest. “Daughter, this is not the time nor place.” Then, the viscount smiled and said to Darkmoor, “She can be very willful, from time to time.”

“I like willful girls.”

“I am not a girl!” Margaret protested. “I am a woman, and I expect to be treated as such.”