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Margery extracted a handkerchief from the pocket in her gown and wiped her eyes. “There is nothing to do about Daniel.”
“Isn’t there?”
“No,” Margery said, slow and precise lest her friend read something into it that wasn’t there.
Lenora pressed her lips tight, a mulish expression that said they weren’t quite done with the subject. But, blessedly, she did not push. Instead she asked quietly, “When is the blackmail money due?”
Margery exhaled, reality crashing down on her once more. “In a little over a sennight.”
“What will you do? For I’m sure you comprehend that, if you pay this person what they demand, they will come back for more.”
“I know.” She sighed. “I’ve been doing my best to focus on one step, one day at a time. But I’ve always known deep inside that this would only be the beginning.” She gave Lenora a sad smile. “And so you see, even if I was of a mind to be with Daniel—if he would even have me—this right here would be reason enough to stay as far away from him as possible. I would not want him to be polluted by this scandal should it one day come out.”
“I have a feeling,” Lenora murmured with an affectionate look, “that he would not mind any more than us, especially if he loves you as much as I believe he must.” When Margery opened her mouth to denounce such an idea—never mind the surge of joy it brought her—Lenora held up a hand in surrender. “But I promise not to say another word about it,” she declared. “First and foremost, we shall see about securing you the necessary funds should you need them. There will be time in the next few days to decide what path you wish to take.”
As Lenora made to rise, however, Margery stopped her. “But I already have the funds.”
Lenora blinked, sinking back into the worn cushions of the couch. “I don’t understand. Your deal with His Grace was not completed. How did you get the money?”
In answer, Margery pulled a letter from her pocket and handed it over.
The confusion on Lenora’s face was quickly replaced with understanding as she opened the already-worn missive and read it over. Margery didn’t need to look over her friend’s shoulder; she had read it so many times that morning that she had it memorized.
My dearest Margery,
I cannot begin to make amends for the great wrong I’ve done. If I could go back in time and give my life up for Aaron’s I would. I will never forgive myself for his death, or for the hardships and pain I’ve caused you.
By now you know I’ve left for London. No matter my aversion to that place, no matter we were nearing the end to our agreement, I cannot stay on Synne knowing I might cause you pain. Though I know you might not wish for anything from me, please accept our agreed-upon sum, which I’ve enclosed. And please know that if you require anything at all, no matter what that might be, I’m at your disposal. I only want you happy.
Yrs,
Daniel
“Oh, Margery,” Lenora whispered. She hastily swiped at her cheeks. “He cares for you a great deal.”
“Lenora,” Margery warned, even as she fought tears herself.
“Well, what did you expect?” Lenora demanded. “I cannot keep my promise to not mention the possibility of something between you when I’m faced with his obvious devotion to you.”
“Devotion,” Margery scoffed softly, taking the letter back. Despite her dismissive word, however, she scanned the missive with hungry eyes. Lenora had read that in those carefully penned words? She saw that within the bold, inked script?
“And so you have the funds you require?” Lenora asked cautiously.
“Yes.” She frowned. “No.”
Lenora blinked. “I don’t understand.”
Truthfully Margery didn’t either. All she knew was she couldn’t take Daniel’s money, couldn’t use it to pay off that evil person who would ruin Aaron’s good name.
And though she knew such a sum was small in comparison to Daniel’s fortune, she knew deep down he had paid enough for that horrible, tragic accident. She wanted him to heal, to put it behind him. To forgive himself and come to terms with the past.
She looked down at Daniel’s letter, her fingers tracing the sweeping lines of her name on the paper. She should hate him for all he had taken from her. Shewantedto hate him. Instead all she felt was a bone-deep weariness and sadness. She knew, despite everything, she still loved him.
She very nearly laughed, though it would have been a mad, manic sound. She had thought loving again would be a betrayal to Aaron’s memory. But the idea of that paled in comparison to this travesty, in loving the man who had ended her husband’s life. Had she lost sight of what she and Aaron had shared? Had she forgotten all he’d been to her?
She wouldn’t allow that to happen.
“I have to return home,” she said, the words escaping her before they had fully taken form in her mind.
