"You are certain of this?" he asked, stepping away and ready to leave. His question was giving her one last chance to change her mind.
"I'm certain. Do tell your butler to scratch me off the list."
He scoffed, the closest to a laugh he could muster. "I'll go on ahead."
"Can I dance with whomever I please now?"
"I never said and cannot say you cannot. I do not own you, my lady."
"I never insinuated that you do, my lord."
"Good," he said, looking into her eyes. "We both know the dangers of having claimed all."
Margaret knew she must revel in her success as she watched Cole make a turn and finally disappear. How could it be that her heart felt frozen and numb, yet still ached?
"You made it to the door, Maggie. Now, you just have to push through it," she said to herself as she righted herself. She must return to her family and put up an act, not simply for the guests and her family, but also for Cole. He must only see the new Margaret Everard.
Her thoughts came to a halt when she stumbled upon the last person she expected to see in the garden alone. Tori was facing toward the exit of the garden with a frown.
"Tori? What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised.
Tori turned to face her, eyes looking curious. Her friend looked back at the pathway behind her. At that moment, Margaret knew her friend ran into Cole merely moments ago.
Margaret prepared herself for Tori's reaction, her mind already racing to the best response she could give. "Margaret," Tori slowly started, walking toward her, blond tresses swaying beside her face as she did so. "Do be honest with me, please. Were you with Cole Devitt just now?"
Margaret blinked and nodded. "Yes, I was."
Tori's eyes rapidly blinked in disbelief and surprise. "You were with Cole Devitt."
"Yes, Tori, I was."
Her friend's mouth hung open and her eyes went wide. "Are you insane?" Tori hissed.
She smiled. There was nothing else to do, really. "Let us not talk about this." Tori opened her mouth but words failed her. Margaret snatched her friend's hands into hers. "Tori, please, this is not what you think it is."
Tori frowned. "Not what I think it is? What did you expect me to think, Maggie? You meeting the same man who gave your brother his scars? Who broke your heart?"
Trying her best to remain calm, Margaret said, "Just trust that I know what I am doing this time, Tori."
Tori's eyes filled with frustrated tears. "Maggie, he left you."
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, Margaret thought the tears would finally come this time now that she was facing someone who had seen her in her worst. "I know."
"I do not understand." Tori could only shake her head.
"I cannot explain. Just trust me, Tori. I know what I am doing." Inside, she was praying her friend would let this pass.
Her prayer was answered. Tori eventually nodded and sighed. "You know what you are doing, yes? You are a stronger woman now, Maggie. It would shatter me to see you too broken once again. And I honestly feel that he could break you anytime." Tori pulled her for an embrace. "Very well," her friend whispered in her ear. "Is this a mission?"
Margaret could only chuckle.
***
After the Seymour Ball, the Everards spent most of their days preparing for the grand wedding of their very own Levi Everard.
The twins were quite useful with the necessary things they all had to do, which was a lot—humongous, even—considering that Tori did not have any family to help, her stepmother being out of the picture, of course.
Agatha, Tori, and Margaret were always out and about, choosing fabrics and finishing all necessary fittings, while Lady Alice supervised the twins in writing the invitations, choosing the right wines and food among others.
The men, however, had their own business to attend to. They did what most men were best at during such affairs: sit around and play cards. As a matter of fact, they were utterly useless that even Ralph, who was training as a new recruit of the Town Guards, was not so missed.
It was fortunate that Levi did not want to wait long for a church wedding. He and Tori were already married in Tiny Town. "We are all merely fooling ourselves," he complained one day, eager to go back to Standbury, but later added, "The only thing giving me the resolve to do this is not the opinion of Wickhurst, but that I wish for my wife to have the grand wedding she deserves." The statement, of course, elicited a dreamy sigh from the twins and a blush from Tori.
And when the wedding finally came, one could say that the Everards were once again back in the good light of the ever genuine, understanding and utterly welcoming society.
Almost half of Wickhurst was present for the wedding, eschewing the boring social season in Sheills. Prominent guests including the Haverstons from Willowfair were also present, but Calan Haverston gave her a look that told her they could not discuss the case there. She was all fine with that, really, because she did not think she had something substantial to provide at this point.
The grand wedding would have been considered a success if not for what Ysabella did during the party held in the Everard House.
Her sister, who had been chasing after Levi's friend for...
Now that she thought of it, Margaret could not quite point out when Ysabella started to fancy herself in love with Wakefield. Everyone simply woke up one day with the knowledge that Ysabella was intent on marrying the most elusive and notorious rake of Wickhurst. The brothers never thought it alarming. In fact, they found it entertaining to watch their friend suffer their sister's advantage. And as their friend, they trusted Wakefield to know his place.
However, Ysabella could not. It was not entirely a surprise when she caused quite a stir on what everyone hoped to be a gay affair devoid of scandal.
Her sister came up to Wakefield, asking him, in a voice loud enough for a number to hear, when he was planning to marry, to which Wakefield replied he had not thought of the matter and would not consider until he was quite ready.
"Whyever not?" Ysabella was heard asking.
"Let us simply say, little one, that I'm still enjoying un-marital bliss."
"Did you just address me as little one, my lord?"
"Yes, as you are my friend's little sister," he tersely replied.
"But I am eighteen and out to find a husband."
"Ah, lucky fellow he would be, then," was Wakefield's very wrong reply.
"You are correct to consider yourself lucky indeed, my lord. I could charm your life like no one else ever could."
Wakefield blanched, realizing his mistake. He looked around at the guests, at least those who were within earshot, who were gazing at them with amusement. "This is not the time for such games, little one," he was heard murmuring to Ysabella.
"But it is true, you know," Ysabella replied, lifting her chin as she stared at Wakefield with such great resolve. "You shall soon find yourself leg-shackled, my lord. Would you wish for Everard jewels encrusted on the shackles for a more personal touch?"
Wakefield was obviously losing the battle as his face grew paler by the second, his gaze erratically searching for a way out. "Ah, I see Levi. If you must excuse me, I would like to extend my felicitations to your brother."
Wakefield dashed away, but Ysabella said after him, "Wait and see, Lord Wakefield! We are soon to be married! Ask Levi how it feels to be and you might just be inspired!"
Her statement was met with loud laughter from those who heard and their exchange soon reached those who were unlucky enough to be entertained.
"They think I was jesting!" Ysabella was heard saying moments later, her voice filled with frustration and disbelief.
Margaret was still waiting for the Herald to tell the tale of Ysabella's little scandal the following day when Benedict and Agatha set out to go home to Devonshire.
Her brother gave her a look of concern before he climbed into the carriage, yet only said, "Do take care of yourself, Margaret. Remember what I said."
More days later, after the big wedding of Levi and Tori, Margaret began to feel the changes marriage had brought to their family. Benedict was rarely in Wickhurst, and Ralph had been staying more often in his own estate in Dosett street, while Maxwell and Nicholas went on with their lives working on the Everard jewelries in their respective homes, going back and forth from their estates outside Wickhurst and their bachelor apartments near Ralph's.
Levi was on his way to Standbury with his new wife, who also happened to be her best friend, the one person who spent most days with her. She was happy for Tori, of course, and her brother, but she did not expect to feel so robbed.
The house, apart from the twins and their mother, was starting to feel quite lonely.
The same thoughts were running inside her head after she knocked on Cole's door. Once the twins found themselves husbands, who would be there for their mother?
I would, she thought.
But would she ever fill the house with laughter? No, certainly not. She had lost that gift long ago. She was just one, boring lady on a shelf.
The door opened, drawing her away from her thoughts, and the butler immediately let her in without a word, giving Margaret a quiet sense of relief.
Cole walked out of the parlor, his face calm and composed. "I was beginning to hope you had forgotten about me, but then I cannot deny I'm not surprised to see you," he said with a tight smile. She longed to see the old smile he used to wear whenever she came into view, but it seemed a farfetched dream now.
The pain and longing for the past mingled with the delight of seeing him once again. And she should not even be delighted, because the circumstances that brought them together were everything but romantic.
At that moment, while she watched him walk up to her, his eyes were mild and calm. As he drew nearer, Margaret's throat tightened from everything old and raw that she felt for him.
"Are you ready?" he asked, and she realized he was holding papers. And he was not walking toward her but to the door to close it.
Now that she was here, working on a case with him with every intention to spy on him, she was starting to question her own judgement again. Despite everything, she wanted the truth from him.
She wanted the glimmer of love be rekindled in his eyes, the unrestrained laughter that gave life to all her dreams. She wanted him to be innocent. To prove to her that everyone else was wrong. That he was still the man she once loved.
Or love.
She could not tell, really. How could one ever tell if they stopped loving someone?
"You have been quite busy," he said, eyes on her.
"I have been, yes," she said.
"And you were right."
Momentarily confused, she blinked and asked. "Right?"
He nodded. "Someone has been spying on you."