His study was quiet. The door was locked and it seemed that nothing, not even a bloody fire, could make them leave the room. Cole was intent on keeping her there until she told him everything. He did not say so, but his gaze did.
Margaret drew a breath and let it out. She may be his lover, but she was also a Leaguer. And that's how she must face him.
"Explain."
A simple request, really, but it placed such great weight on Margaret. Her plans with Calan and her hope for their future relied greatly on this moment.
"I joined the League of Founders a few years ago. I have been working with them ever since."
His jaw tightened, a fire of fury and betrayal shadowed his eyes. "Is that why you approached me? Made attempt to be friends?"
Margaret paled and nodded. "I was given my mission after Osmond Trilby's death. You were a suspect. You still are, I believe."
"A mission," he scoffed, shaking his head. "And you did not even try to reject it? Given our history? I could have fooled you. Could have used you."
"I'm a Leaguer, Cole. Please don't think me so daft. I would know if you were playing tricks on me."
"Oh, truly?" he asked. "It wasn't so hard to make you my lover again."
She knew he was angry and he wanted to hurt her. "I know. Neither was it for me."
His jaw tightened. His silence meant he was deliberating. Killing her? Throwing her out? She could not tell so instead she just shook her head. "Yes, mayhap I did doubt your innocence at first. The evidence was quite strong. There are witnesses during your visit and the argument that followed. You left Willowfair on the same night Trilby was murdered—"
"Because I had to take Fiona away."
"I know that now."
"Of course you do. You're one good spy. You managed to creep into Ashmore."
Ignoring his ire, Margaret continued. "When I learned about the slavery case you're working on, I started to have doubts. Maybe you're right. Maybe someone else killed Trilby. After I discovered Fiona and found nothing in your estate that bolster your connection to the murder, I talked with my mentor."
"Calan Haverston. In Sheills."
She nodded. The guilt was eating at her, but she had to keep her gaze steady. She had to look him in the eye and make him see that she was being honest. "I offered him the case."
His eyes slowly narrowed and his jaw twitched. "You told him about the slavery case. My case."
"No, not just yours. It's also mine. I also have to protect Faye. I know I betrayed your trust, but I had a duty to fulfill. I had to make them understand why you could not have killed Trilby."
"And now the League is on their way here? To take everything?"
The betrayal was clearly painted on his face. "No, of course, not," she said. "They're willing to work with us."
"Us," he said, shaking his head with a sarcastic laugh. "You truly made sure this case is ours, didn't you? So you can sell it to the people who could very well be working with the bloody trade!"
Margaret was awed that she did not flinch. His voice boomed in all corners of the room. "I also do have people I trust, Cole. It's not just you. They're the people who helped me be who I am today. And yes, I trusted them with your secrets. Because I had to."
Again, he laughed. "To what? Save me from being convicted of murder? I know they suspect me, Margaret. And I know they don't have enough and they will never have enough because I didn't kill Trilby."
"They know more about the Manor," she said instead. She would take his blame and anger later, but for now, she had to have her wits with her while she still had control over them. At her words, he went still in his seat behind his desk and frowned. "It's aboveground as we suspected. It is very exclusive. They keep the slaves there, but they have very little contact with each other apart from the guests, people from both aboveground and the Town. The slaves serve these members."
When he did not open his mouth, she continued. "If you work with us, we will have a chance to solve this. We have Fiona and Faye and they have information. The League has a list of names—"
"What names?"
"Names of the guests. Names you don't have. Names we can connect to what you have."
He leaned over and planted his arms on the table. A slight relief rushed through her knowing she now had his attention. "And we also have your mother."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
"In Osmond Trilby's room, we found a brooch with the Ashmore crest." As realization loosened his face, she added, "I believe Osmond Trilby was your mother's lover."
It took a while for him to react. When he did, he scoffed and leaned back with a shake of his head. "My mother would rather die than talk."
"To you, yes. But with the League, it may be a different matter." She shifted in her chair. "Please, Cole. I know you're furious. I would be if I were in your shoes. I admit I spied on you and I can't demand that you trust me as a member of the League. However, I'm hoping you trust me as Margaret Everard." Her nose flared as she talked, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She blinked them away. "With the League, we can make this work."
He stared at her for a long time, chest heaving, lips tight. All the while, Margaret held his gaze. If she let go now, she might break.
"This is why you can't say yes."
His statement surprised her and it pulled at her heart. "Yes."
"Well, I should thank you. I don't know how I'll ever deal with this if you did."
The tears did come then and she briskly brushed them off with the back of her hand. "I would not dream of trapping you in a marriage with me without knowing my secrets."
A bitter smile played on his lips. "I have to wonder which part of everything you did was true and which aren't."
"I would be lying if I say all of it was true. But it started to be since the night at the cabin."
Cole scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head. He refused to meet her gaze, looking everywhere but her.
"Tell me, Margaret. Does your family know?"
"Only my brothers and Tori," she admitted. "But it's only Ben who knows why I had to approach you in the beginning."
"To spy," he corrected scathingly. "Please do not put it so lightly."
She sniffled, nodding slowly. "Yes. I spied on you. I used our past to get close to you. I took advantage of what we shared in the cabin so I could go here and search every corner of your estate to scour for evidence." She caught his gaze and released a shaky sigh. "And I relished on what you offered. For a moment I tricked myself that I could be yours again. And for a time, I was, and it was true for me." She bit her lips to stop them from trembling. "Loving you is the only thing that's true while I was doing this mission."
His jaw clenched, the fury still hooding his eyes. "Be fair to me, Margaret. You can't tell me you love me after everything."
"I understand," she said, but her heart was in riot inside her chest. It wanted to go on a rampage. It was demanding to be heard. But she had done enough damage.
She knew from the start that this was bound to happen and she should have guarded herself well. Any good Leaguer would laugh at her. Falling in love with her mission? Hoping he would not feel betrayed and still marry her? How pathetic.
"I need to be alone," Cole said, tearing his eyes off her. "Please."
Slowly, Margaret stood. "I will wait for your decision. And whatever it is, I will respect it."
She left the study and searched for the children and the twins. She could not be alone for now.
***
The following morning, Cole did not join them for breakfast. By afternoon, he was out riding in the fields. However, he showed up for supper. He dined with them cordially, listened to the twins and answered their questions. Margaret was smart enough not to initiate a conversation.
By the time he stood to lock himself in his study, Margaret could feel the twins' gaze on her. "Is something the matter?" she asked them.
"With us, none," Emma replied. "However, there is something wrong between you and Lord Ashmore."
"A small misunderstanding, that is all."
"Is he being impatient?" Ysabella prodded. "Is he demanding for an answer to his proposal?"
"No, I do not think that's it, Ysa," said Emma, eyeing Margaret closely. If there was someone who was as intuitive as Maxwell, that would be the youngest Everard. Emma could always read a room in a way Maxwell could. The two of them could even finish each other's sentences. "Is this about the children? I know you took Faye here for a reason. And I know Fiona is also here for a reason."
She smiled at her sisters. "Please, ladies, I'm tired."
She retreated to her room before the twins could coax an answer out of her. She was already in her nightdress when the knock came. Knowing it was him, she went to the door.
He remained outside, his face unreadable.
"I'll talk to the League. But everything will be on my terms. They're not taking the children and they will not meet them until I say so. I will not be brushed aside."
Margaret nodded. "I've made certain of that. They know how important this case is to you."
His eyes remained on her for a few breathless moment before he nodded. Then he turned and left. No words, no hesitation.
Margaret closed the door and leaned on the wall, closing her eyes. She slipped into bed, but she knew sleep would not come fast.
***
Two days later, Margaret asked the twins to take Fiona and Faye to the garden. It would be far enough for them to notice the arrival of their visitors.
Margaret was silent beside Cole as they waited. The sound of the carriage made her fiddle on her skirt.
"Why are you nervous?" Cole asked, tone cold. "This was your idea."
She shook her head, unable to look at him for longer than she should. She was grate for his decision to meet Calan Haverston. But it was not really his decision, was it? She gave him no choice. So, of course, he was furious. He had every right to be.
"We shall take our leave after your conversation with Lord Easton. If you choose to work with the League, someone else will be working with you."
"It would not be you?" She closed her eyes at the mockery in his voice.
"It will not work. I can continue to do my part on the case by some other means."
"More spying."
She did not like how he said that. Her eyes flew to him. "Maybe. I enjoy it, after all," she said with a smile.
His gaze lingered on her until he had to look away because the door opened and in came Calan Haverston. And he was not alone. He was with his brother, McKenzie Haverston, the Town Guard.
After a short round of greetings, and once the drawing room door was shut closed, Calan studied Margaret, his eyes measuring the distance between her and Cole. And it was quiet far enough to make him say, "I'm certain Margaret has already told you what you needed to know."
Cole merely nodded, eyes on McKenzie. Understanding his silent question, Calan said, "McKenzie is working with us on the case."
"I was not informed the Guards are also involved," Cole said, throwing Margaret a look.
"It was by accident," Calan replied.
It was McKenzie who spoke next. "I and a few of my men are careful, my lord. We know how the Guards can be easily corrupted."
"And who else are working in on this case?"
"The Society."
Margaret's eyes widened. "The what?"
"Splendid," Cole gritted out. "A criminal group. Do you think this is a bloody joke?"
"Someone from the Society provides us with useful information," Calan said. "I trust them with my life, as I do trust my brother and his men. As I've said, we all stumbled on this case by mere chance, all separately until a couple of years ago." He turned to his brother. "Mac?"
McKenzie Haverston smiled at them, the scar across his eyebrow moving as he cocked his brows up as he sighed. He looked like he would rather not tell the story. "I've been working with the Society for some time before Calan stumbled on the same case I was working on. The case was passed on to him, and he took us on the case, all the while working closely with the Society. It's an odd partnership, but it works. Until a few years ago, we've been having little progress." He paused and shifted in his seat. "Until my wife, Belinda. I'm sure you're familiar with her story. She was banished years ago after a scandal." Margaret sighted fury behind his eyes before he continued. "She was sent to the Manor."
Margaret stiffened, and so did Cole. When she first met McKenzie Haverston, he had stormed into the Everard House years ago to whisk away the twins' governess, Belinda Carrington. She knew little about their story, only that Belinda was banished by her father and that for some reason, she returned. During her stay with them, Belinda did not say why and Margaret never prodded because she sensed Belinda had been through a lot. She just never imagined it would be like this.
"It was orchestrated by her sister, Julia, with the help of her then lover, Noah Trilby. All the while, her parents thought she was taken to a cottage in Gailey. They did not know she was aboveground with other slaves. She managed to escape and with her she took one guest book where names of the visitors of the manor are logged."
"We have that book," said Calan. "Belinda entrusted it to us, and we had been using it to solve the case."
"How did she escape?" Margaret asked McKenzie.
"Through the Dark Forest. We've searched, but found no evidence of any passage. However, we're still searching. The Dark Forest is vast, and it's dangerous. My wife may have simply been lucky to have found a way out of the godforsaken place."
Calan spoke next. "The book is not enough to take in everyone. Even Julia admitted that she used her husband's name whenever she visited the Manor to secretly visit Belinda. Julia was insane, and before she was hanged, she said things that alluded to the Trilbys as a dangerous group. We all know by now how powerful they can be. Very little is known about them—in fact, we do not even know all of them—and that's their power. They don't display it, but we know it's there."
His eyes slanted to Cole. "Your father's effects will greatly help move the investigation forward. With Belinda and the children as witnesses to the Manor's existence, with your sister's letters and your father's trail of communication and connections, we can connect them to the names we have. We'll have specific individuals to investigate. And it does not hurt that we have someone from the Men of Courts working with us."
It took Cole a while to say something. He regarded both brothers with scrutiny. "I will want to know what you have first before I resort to sharing what I have," he finally said, tone matter-of-fact and direct. "However, the murder of the Prime Minister is being a painful inconvenience. I do not appreciate the League throwing spies in my direction."
Margaret looked away and shared a look with Calan. Her mentor only nodded. "The murder is still unsolved, and you are still a suspect among others. If you let us talk with Edmund Trilby, or question the girl, we may get somewhere. We have ways to do that."
"You're not questioning Fiona. The child barely remembers anything and any mention of that night gives her nightmares," Cole coldly stated. "As we have not yet agreed on anything, Edmund Trilby shall remain my responsibility. You are not going to approach the young man without me. You said it yourself—the Trilbys are powerful."
Utter silence followed Cole's statement. Calan Haverston studied him for a while, then slowly smiled. "Of course." He stood. "I will personally deliver everything we have on this case."
"I would also appreciate if you can bring along your contact in the Society."
"I'm afraid that's not possible," said McKenzie, also rising on his feet. "The Blower does not easily accept invitation."
Margaret gaped. "You're working with the Blower." She had heard that name being whispered around among Leaguers. It was the Blower who saved the Town many years ago and continued to do so now by sharing information to whoever needed it. "I cannot believe it. Have you seen his face? Met him?"
Cole looked at her with a frown. She ignored him, eagerly waiting for an answer.
"Unfortunately, yes," McKenzie wryly retorted.
"And that's all we'll share," Calan said. "The Blower will show up only when they think it necessary." To Cole, he said, "Thank you for your time, Lord Ashmore. I'll see you soon."
When they were gone, Margaret was deep in thought. "It could be a woman," she murmured to herself. "He referred to the Blower as they." She snapped to her senses when Cole stood and faced her.
"I don't think you've changed a lot through the years. You've always been fascinated by mystery as you are till now. It's a pity I just realized I didn't fully know you back then."
What in the bloody hell does that mean, the voice in her head asked. The Blower now completely out of her mind, Margaret stood and smiled at him, like she always did when she was hurting. "Thank you for meeting them."
"You gave me no choice."
"I know," she said. "And I hope you will never regret this. No—I know you will not regret this. Calan Haverston is the most reliable man I've ever known. He will never betray your trust. Now," she said, taking a deep breath. "If you will excuse me, I have to tell the twins and Faye that we have to pack."
"You know this is not easy for me," he said behind her.
She stopped. "I know, Cole. And I understand." Her eyes searched his from across the room. "You will always have my support. Whether you fight with the League, or alone, in whatever way I can, I will stand by you and your cause. For what I did, I also offer my expertise. If you need a spy, send for me." She chuckled when he scowled. "You may find better use of me as a spy than as a wife, my lord."
"You do not have to leave," he said. "The children will wonder."
He was not coming near, nor did he look like he wanted her near, so Margaret shook her head. "Fret not, Cole. I will tell my family that I decided on an answer. They will not come for you. I shall take full responsibility."
Her body walked out of the room, but she knew she left her heart inside. And maybe it was for the best. Maybe this was fate telling her it had given her another chance to prove it was always meant to be this way.
Again, she spent the rest of the day with the twins and the girls. And again, Cole joined them for a cordial dinner. And that evening, she walked into the room shared by the twins and announced they were leaving on the morrow. Naturally, they questioned why, but when she sternly said they could stay no longer, they resigned to the fact but not without commenting that whatever was happening with her and Lord Ashmore, their mother would be quite disappointed.
When she told Faye of their departure, the girl asked the same question as the twins. But this time, Margaret gave her an answer. "We have to go home so I can help you with your papers. We can only do so in Wickhurst."
Faye studied her face for a while. "Can I sleep with Fiona? She has grown attached to me. She will be sad once we leave."
"Of course. I'll wake you up on the morrow."
In her room, Margaret lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling. She allowed her thoughts to linger. She wondered what Cole was doing now, or what he may be thinking. With bitterness, she knew she would do this often in the days to come.
Sleep crept in between her thoughts. For how long, she could not remember. All she recalled was that she was awakened by the bursting of the door and the sound of bare feet running toward her. When she opened her eyes, Faye was shaking beside the bed, tears streaming down her face.
"Faye? What happened?" she asked, alarmed.
"He took her. H-He took her!"
"Who?"
But the girl was not listening. She was frantic with fear. "Fiona! He took Fiona!"