Love Comes in Three

Chapter Sixty-Four "He'll Return"

            I lingered in the darkened garden for I'm not sure how long, I had no concept of time.  I only knew that Isaac said he loved me . . . and that we were free of the contract.  I swayed a bit, standing in the glow from the windows, I felt light and happy, yet also alone.  Why had he rushed off?  I reminded myself that he did say he'd return and I looked up to the sky, admiring the bright, full moon, I began humming.

            "There you are!" the words rang out into the night. I looked up to the terrace and saw Faith running down the stairs to me, she was followed hastily by Philip.  "Why are you out here?  Where's Thomas?" she questioned as she fussed over me.

            "He'll return," I answered dreamily.

            "Margaret, are you well?" she looked into my face with worry.  When I didn't answer she gave me a little shake and turned to Philip, "Could she be in shock?"

            He took off his jacket and put it around my shoulders, "Let's get you inside," he said gently ushering me towards the house.

            "He'll return," I nodded again, "he loves me."  Faith was at my other side, her arm looped through mine and helping me up the stairs.

            "Yes," Philip chuckled, "he does.  I am certain of it."

            "Did he say where he was going?" Faith inquired as she opened the terrace doors, "or when he'll return."

            Walking into the now empty music room where the servants were beginning to put things away, it brought me back to my senses, "Um, no, he did not" I gave myself a little shake and then rubbed my arms.

            "Sit here," Philip said setting me at chair, "I'm going to get you something to drink, just stay right here."

            Faith moved a chair beside me and took my hand, "Are you okay, dear friend?"

            "I am," I smiled at her, but I could tell from her eyes that she did not believe me.

            "Margaret, I think you should come with me to the Winchesters . . . we can write to Freddie in the morning."  Philip returned with a glass of port, "She's welcome to stay, right Philip?"

            "Of course she is," he smiled as he handed me the glass.

            "Why do we need to write to Freddie, he knows the contract has been annulled, he's known since before he left."  I took a sip and winced a bit at the strength of the taste.

            "Be a good girl and drink that," Philip said.

            "Why does everyone always tell me to be a good girl?" I asked Faith, "Aren't I always a good girl?  I do as I'm told . . . I stay away from Percival, I plan to marry I . . . Thomas."

            "Yes, darling," Faith cooed as she gently patted my back, "you're always a good girl.  Now finish the port and we'll take you home."

            "I'm not leaving," I contested, "he will return for me."  I stood up and handed Faith the glass, still mostly full, and then gave Philip his jacket.  "I'm staying here."  Suddenly another hand was in mine, I turned to see Leah by my side.  Her bright eyes looked up at me and they had a bit of red to them, as if she had been crying.  "Were you hiding again?"

            "No," she admitted quietly, "people just don't notice me.  I was right over there," she pointed to the piano in the corner.  I honestly could not remember if she was there when we came inside, but then I was foggy myself.

            "Margaret, be reasonable," Faith began setting the port on the table, "after everything that's happened, it would be best for you to be with friends."  She offered a caring smile and I knew that she meant well, but I could not leave.

            "I am with friends," I returned, giving Leah's hand a squeeze.  "I appreciate the thought, Faith, but I feel it best if I stay here."

            She was about to protest but Philip moved behind her and set his hands on her shoulders, "If that's your decision, we shall honor it," Faith gave a reluctant nod, "but you are always welcome to come.  You have a standing invitation."

            "Thank you, Philip," I curtseyed.  "Don't worry, Faith . . . he will return."

            "He will," Leah echoed.

            Faith took a deep breath, "I shall call on you tomorrow . . . in case you change your mind."

            "I look forward to tomorrow then," I smiled, "but I will not change my mind."  Philip led her out of the room.  He lowered his head to whisper something to her.  I can only imagine that he was trying improve her spirits.  I felt my eyes look away wistfully, "He will return," I mumbled.

            Leah quickly stepped in front of me, "Of course he will!  My brother loves you more than anything."  She beamed brightly, trying to get me to do the same.

            "Tell me, Leah," I said letting out a breath, "what had you crying?"

            "Mother and Father are arguing again," her voice was so soft that I could barely hear her, "Even now in their room . . . Mother says he ruined everything and that Thomas will never settle down now.  I wanted to tell them . . . that it's not Thomas but Isaac . . . but I can't."

            "One day everything will be sorted," I said putting my arm around her, "everything will be as it is meant to." 

            "I hope so," she sighed leaning her head against my shoulder.

            That night Leah stayed with me in my room.  She fell into a fitful sleep and the only thing I could think to soothe her was moving close and humming so she knew she was not alone.  It seemed to work and soon her slumber seemed to deepen.  As for myself, sleep did not come at all.  I spent a good portion of the night sitting at my window watching the street.  Waiting.