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But if there was a chance at happiness for them, wasn’t it worth fighting for? Wasn’tDanielworth fighting for?
Yes.
She hurried to her armoire, digging through the gowns that hung there. And suddenly she didn’t want to bring her half-mourning gowns with her. She wanted color, hope, joy again. Once more she searched out that chest hidden within the depths, the same one that she had pulled the pink ribbon from. Only this time she didn’t limit her search to the top layer. Instead she removed the fan and dance card and myriad mementos of her life before, and lifted out the tissue-wrapped parcels in its depths.
With shaking hands she unwrapped them. Her breath stalled in her chest as the gauziest greens and palest pinks and softest blues were revealed. The gowns of a girl full of hope.
She set her jaw and shook out the pink muslin. The folds of it lay over her lap, like an old friend. Small white blossoms and twining vines circling the hem, embroidery she had worked into the delicate material with her own hands. She may no longer be that naïve girl. But she was still full of hope, still full of that same stubborn determination. Scrabbling to her feet, she moved to her dressing room. It was time to embrace that side of herself again, to throw caution to the wind and jump into life with both feet.
Some minutes later, with the pink gown hugging her curves a bit tighter than it had before—goodness, she’d have to get some new ones made up—and her bag repacked, Margery turned for the door. But at the last minute she paused. Then, with determined steps, she made her way to her desk. With fingers that shook only slightly, she removed her ring for the last time. No matter what might happen with Daniel, she would never wear it again. Gran and Mr. Kitteridge were right; Aaron would not have wanted this for her. It was time to move on, to live her life.
Placing the ring on the top of the desk, she lifted up Aaron’s portrait and gazed down on his beloved face. “I’ll always love you, my darling,” she whispered, giving it a gentle kiss before placing it back down and turning again for the door.
This time she didn’t stop, hurrying down the stairs and through the front hall. She could very well falter in her determination in the four days it would take to reach London. But damned if this wasn’t the most exciting, frightening thing she’d done in years. Her whole future had been opened up before her, a vast, unmapped horizon. Only God knew what she would find at the end of her journey. It could be more heartache, of course. But wasn’t that the chance one took for the possibility of happiness? No matter what Aaron’s death had brought, she would not have given up her time with him, however short, for anything. And the same was true for a chance at a future with Daniel. She would fight for him, for whatever chance they might have of being together, with everything in her. Stifling a manic giggle as anticipation pounded through her, she reached the front door and threw it open—
And stopped cold.
“Daniel.” She caught her breath. What was he doing here? Hope bloomed in her chest; had he come back for her?
But no, her muddled brain told her, men in love didn’t look at the object of their affections like that, with such grim determination. Nor, she thought, even more confused as she took in the man at his side, did they bring the woman’s late husband’s friend along with them.
“Margery,” Daniel said then, dragging her attention back to him, “may we have a moment of your time?”
Her heart sank. No, it didn’t just sink, it dropped like the heaviest anchor into her stomach. Whatever this was, it was no social call.
Schooling her features into a calm she didn’t feel, she dropped her bag beside the front door and stepped back. “Of course,” she murmured through numb lips. And as they entered and she closed the door behind them, the echoing sound of it held the finality of a death knell.
Chapter 24
Margery, her legs trembling beneath her, led the men to the drawing room, where a fire was already burning merrily in the hearth. As they settled themselves, she creased the delicate folds of her gown with nervous fingers, casting anxious glances between the two. Mr. Newton had seated himself as far as possible from Daniel, and appeared positively green, as if he would cast up his accounts then and there.
Daniel, on the other hand, looked like an avenging angel. His features were stark, his scars standing out in sharp relief, a muscle ticking in his jaw. What, she wondered wildly, was going on?
But still they sat there, not speaking. Finally, unable to stand it a moment longer, she burst out, “What are you two gentlemen doing here?”
She’d meant it to sound easy and unconcerned, as if this were a mere social visit. Trying to hold on to the niceties as long as possible, a kind of lifeline for her. Instead it came out in a jumble of words, rushing over one another in their attempt to break free.
Daniel cleared his throat, casting a dark glance at the other man. “Newton has something he needs to tell you.”
Margery blinked. Which should not have surprised her, she supposed. Why else would the man be here, after all?
And yet it shocked her just the same. What in the world would Mr. Newton have to say to her that had him so terrified, that had Daniel so furious? A wild, horrible idea flitted on the outskirts of her mind, but she hastily pushed it away before it could find purchase. Schooling her features as best she could, she looked at the man. “What was it you needed to tell me, Mr. Newton?”
If anything, Newton’s face turned greener. He looked to Daniel with wild, pleading eyes.
Daniel’s expression turned furious, and what seemed to be a threat appeared in the stormy depths of his eyes. But still the other man sat in mute fear.
Letting out a low curse that made Mr. Newton flinch, Daniel finally turned to face her. And the breath was sucked from her body at the raw emotions in his steady gaze.
In the next moment he said the very last thing she expected.
“Your husband was not a deserter.”
She actually felt the blood leave her face. “Wh-what?”
“Aaron did not desert his battalion.”
Still, she could not comprehend what he had said. How had he known about Aaron’s desertion? She had never told him. A high-pitched whining sounded in her ears, her vision turning black at the edges. She did not realize she had begun to list to the side, however, until Daniel’s hand was there on her arm, steadying her.
