Sleeping Engagement

XVIII. Seymour Surrender

Benedict's scarred face was bare of any emotion, save for the curious rise of one eyebrow.

"He is the head of the Men of Courts and I'm a spy for the League," she finally brought herself to speak in a practiced, calm voice. "My interaction with Cole Devitt is purely professional, although you appear to not believe it."

"As a matter of fact," Benedict said, pushing away from the carriage door, opened it and gestured for her to climb inside as he continued, "You are correct. I do not believe you."

"Of course," she said with a sigh. "And as much as I would love to explain my mission, Benedict, I'm afraid I cannot. You must understand."

Benedict climbed inside and closed the carriage door. The carriage drove them away from the park, the silence growing as the distance to the estate drew closer.

She focused her attention on the passing view outside, mindful of any stranger following her. Her head snapped when her brother finally spoke. "I'm sorry for what happened in the past, Maggie."

She rapidly blinked her eyes, as if fighting back tears, but really, there was none because she'd spent them all years ago. She set her teeth together and squared her shoulders. Clearing her throat, she tried to speak but found she could not think of a word.

They never brought up the past, but Margaret ever blamed her brother. If she lost Cole and their father in that distant past, Benedict lost a father, his child, and its mother. And his best friend.

"You did nothing wrong, Ben," she said in a voice that was surprisingly strong. "We have all been victims of ill fate."

Benedict's green eyes stared at her, his eyes assessing hers like Cole would. He was very much like his former friend, really, both of them too good at reading her.

"If what you say is true and you're merely on a mission, Maggie," he said, breaking the silence, "I suggest that you be careful." Before she could offer a rejoinder, he added, "You cannot allow him to hurt you again."

His words were laced with warning only a brother could muster. He would not say more. That's how Benedict was. His very words were always considered law, although he never meant them to be.

She had heard him say the same words when Cole asked for her hand. That time it had been very different. Cole still considered Benedict his best friend by then and her brother had not acquired his scars yet.

Margaret bit her lips, wishing to tell Benedict that it might be she who would end up hurting Cole Devitt if she succeeded with her plans and he turned out to be innocent.

***

The day of Levi and Tori's return as a married couple finally came and the Everards were once more the topic of every gossipmonger in town.

Yet it was not to be missed that the newlyweds cared not for the scandal they had caused. That gossip would soon fade because Levi and Tori did not intend to stay long. They shall reside in Standbury and would never be seen by most of the people in Wickhurst again anytime soon, as Levi had put it.

Still, they had to agree to attend the Seymour Ball as a family.

Margaret wanted to tell her friend about Cole Devitt, but she knew Tori would merely be concerned. Her friend witnessed how she suffered years ago. It was Tori who dragged her out of her bedchambers and suffered balls after balls, musicales after musicales, with her until she was strong enough to regain a semblance of normalcy. And it was Tori who slapped her when she voiced her thoughts of ending it all.

Margaret cleared her mind of Cole as Tori walked the side of the ballroom with Levi beside her, both of them looking as though they were suffering the ball. The guests were gawking at the pair as if they were a piece of confusing artwork. Questions were being whispered around.