The last stop she made was to the Archibald estate. Tori, Levi and the twins should soon reach Standbury if their schedule had not been delayed. The faster she could urge Lady Archibald to convince her son, Jordan, to offer for Tori, the faster she could send a missive to Standbury for her siblings and Tori to return to Wickhurst.
She had not heard of Tori's stepmother making noise about her stepdaughter's disappearance, and Margaret doubted she would. The lady would not compromise their reputation just yet.
For Margaret, the stepmother was the least of her concern.
"Margaret, dear. What a lovely surprise," said Lady Archibald.
Margaret smiled. "I had been meaning to spend an afternoon with you, my lady, after our recent talk."
The woman laughed. "Lady Victoria must be very lucky to have you as a friend."
"I also enjoy this little scheme or ours. It's quite fun."
"I'm quite ecstatic, too."
"How do you plan to talk to your son, my lady?"
"The moment I get a hold of him, of course. I have already hinted my desire for him to marry. And I had not been lacking on praising Lady Victoria."
"They shall be the best couple this Wickhurst Season."
"Oh, but I believe it is Lord Benedict and Lady Agatha who caused quite the biggest stir!"
"Ah, my brother and his unexpected love affair," she chuckled.
"Fret not, my dear," Lady Archibald said. "Most of Wickhurst see them both as nothing but lovely. I would like my son to experience the same wonderful things your brother found with his wife."
"My brother is happy indeed. And I intend for Tori to be as well. Before the season ends, of course."
The woman sighed. "Ah, yes. The season is ending soon."
"Yes."
"We might not have enough time to make the announcement before then."
"But we can open the Sheills Season with it."
Lady Archibald's face lit up. "Of course!"
"I'm truly glad to share this little mission with you, my lady."
"As am I, dear. But what about you? Have you no suitors to consider?"
She'd rather not talk about herself so she veered the topic by saying, "One task at a time, Lady Archibald, one task at a time."
And she should hurry for her next one, she thought, determined to finish her tea.
***
Faye appeared entirely different that evening. She had been cleaned, quite thoroughly so, by Charlotte. Her black hair was properly held in a neat bun and her cheeks had a little glow of pink, although the bruises on the right side of her cheek and all over her arms were still vividly visible.
Apart from the bruises, she looked like most children, except for one thing. Her eyes lacked the glimmer of life. They were flat, emotionless, even as she said, "Thank you for having me, milady," in a soft voice. Her pale blue globes were that of someone who had been through the gallows of the darkest parts of the world and back to tell no tale.
"I hope they have been treating you right, Faye," she kindly said.
"They have, milady. They gave me food. And gave me bath."
Margaret nodded.
"I don't wish to leave, milady. I want to work here." One look at the girl told Margaret that she had been living her life pleading. There was no sign of shame when she said those words.
"I went to the Courts today. I have to make certain of some things before I make my decision," she carefully said to the child. "I was informed that I can take a child as servant, and I have decided to keep you."
Relief overcame the fear in Faye's eyes.
"I shall have one of the maid servants groom you to be one and mayhap when you are old and trained enough, you can serve my sisters, Emma and Ysabella." A small indication of a smile quirked the girl's lips. "Would you like that?"
Faye nodded. But even as she said those words, Margaret did not like the idea of Faye spending the best of her years serving others.
"But before we make that official, I would like you to answer a few questions."
"I shall try to answer them, milady," Faye eagerly replied, but the apprehension was clear in her face.
"Do you remember where your family might be?"
The child shook her head. "No, milady. I was raised by many ladies where I once lived. They said my mother died when I was born."
"And your father?"
"The ladies who raised me didn't tell me about my father, milady."
Margaret nodded. She did not know how to move on with her inquiry. She was facing a child, not someone of age and mind to defend herself.
"They're looking for me—the bad guys." Faye's voice shook and her hands started to tug at her skirts.
Margaret nodded. "Faye, you're safe here." The child was too anxious. The last thing she needed was someone to rekindle the fear. "You can leave now. We'll continue this some other time. Have a good night."
Margaret stared blankly in space even after Faye disappeared. She wanted to know the girl's story, but she had to be careful and patient to do so. For now, they just needed to keep the child feel safe until she was ready to tell more.
And Margaret had more pressing matters to attend to. A ball at Willowfair was waiting for her after her, and so was Calan Haverston.
***
Willowfair was comparable to Wickhurst in prestige. It was not merely a town that was known for its amazing parks, but they housed most of the Town Leaders and many members from both Houses. They opened the year with their Willowfair Season with elegant parties. And it was a little less scandalous than Wickhurst Season, too.
Most importantly, it was where most of the League of Founders could be found, among them Calan Haverston, the Lord of Easton.
It was Calan who sought Margaret out during a masked ball five years ago, asking her questions about her plans for the future. She had been awed that a mysterious stranger, and a man at that, was willing to talk to her about politics, history, and philosophy that night.
She thought the masked man had left a big impression on her; she never thought she did the same to him.
Merely a fortnight after their talk, Margaret received a letter with the League's seal on it. The initials LF did not register until she read the summons. Without much thought, Margaret gave her mother a false story to visit Tori and went straight to Grey's, Wickhurst's infamous gentleman's club.
If she were any similar to most women her status and refused to even breathe the air in that notorious place, she would not have had the privilege to be working with the League of Founders. She believed to this day that it was the first true test she had to take before any of the ones given to her by the ten silhouetted men who met her that fateful night in a dark room behind Grey's gaming halls.
Thus far, Margaret had seen the faces of none but three of them. The other two she had a chance to work with, the other one was Calan Haverston.
She met her mentor after having passed her tests, and his identity did surprise her. She could not speak the entire time he introduced himself and discussed how their relationship shall proceed from thenceforth.
Margaret slowly drew her mind away from the memory as the streets of Willowfair gave her a stark reminder of Osmond Trilby's death.
While many went to Willowfair for shopping and attending luxurious balls, for Margaret it meant business. It meant many secret meetings with her mentor.
The ball she was invited to was not as famous as many others in Willowfair, but there were still a good number of guests. However, now that Wickhurst Season was ending, and another due to start in Sheills, those who may recognize her here were mostly out of town.
She barely had enough time to rest from her journey before she hastily put on a gown and whisked herself into the ballroom.
"Margaret!" Belinda Haverston greeted with glee.
Margaret gave the lady a peck and a wide smile. Having been the twins' governess for a short time many years ago, Belinda was amongst Margaret's few friends.
"Of course, do not mind the other ladies," said a voice behind them.
Margaret turned and found Cressida Haverston, Calan's wife, and Mary Haverston, Adrien Haverston's wife, smiling at her.
"Lady Cressida," Margaret greeted. "Lady Mary."
"This ball is turning rather boring, to be honest," Cressida said, rolling her eyes.
Margaret chuckled. "I have read on the Herald that Peyton did manage to sneak into a ballroom with her cousins. It was rather ingenious of them to have succeeded."
Cressida closed her eyes with a groan. "Please, Margaret, spare me the reminder of my daughter's mischiefs. I recall too much of myself whenever anyone does."
"She did worse things," Mary Haverston said to Margaret.
"Well, I most definitely know that. But it does not mean I wish for my daughter to follow my example," Cressida retorted. "Which is why I have my husband to thank for. He makes certain Peyton grows up prim and proper. And speaking of the dear devil, he is by the refreshments, Lady Margaret, if you wish to speak to him."
Cressida gave Margaret a meaningful wink before she turned to Mary and Belinda to say, "And I happen to see the Prewitt sisters and their friends. Belinda, do you remember what they did to your tea two weeks ago?"
Belinda's brows arched high and she stuck her chin out and walked away, saying to Margaret, "See you in a while, Margaret. Do enjoy yourself for the time being." Cressida eagerly followed while Mary turned to Margaret to whisper, "I promise I would try to stop them, but I might enjoy it too much to care."
Margaret laughed as she watched the three ladies, all wives of the famous Haverston brothers, sashay their way across the ballroom to where their unseen targets were. All because of tea?
Shaking her head, Margaret turned to find Calan Haverston, but it seemed he found her first. She bumped into his broad form and quickly stepped back in surprise. His dark eyes were casted across the room, hooded with a frown. "Where is my wife going?"
"The Prewitt sisters, I believe," she answered.
She saw his jaw twitch before he curtly shook his head and turned his attention on her. His dark eyes held hers and she remembered feeling intimidated the first time he did so.
Calan Haverston had an air of arrogance and indifference about him that made most men uncomfortable, and women oddly drawn to him. If he was not married to the feisty Cressida, Margaret believed that he would have women still begging for his attention.
"Is she with Belinda?"
"And Lady Mary, yes."
He muttered something under his breath before he said, "I shall not be long. We cannot draw attention."
Margaret nodded, too familiar with the situation where Calan would whisper information or orders that he could not risk putting on paper, while she listened.
His eyes still on his wife, he led her somewhere less crowded. "Devitt's association with Edmund Trilby is no longer a matter of curiosity, but of urgency."
"You found out who Edmund Trilby is."
"Yes." Margaret remembered to breathe and she did, only to have the air trapped in her lungs once more as her mentor spoke again. "Edmund Trilby is Osmond Trilby's only son."
***
She is not in Wickhurst, is she? Should you not stay close to her? We could not simply assume she is not bound to cause trouble. Do not let appearances fool you, my lord.
Cole threw the missive into the fire, considering Edmund's words.
Mayhap the young man was correct.