Page 62 of Indecent Desires of a Proper Lady
“No, I have not,” Margaret said sadly. “I feel that if I just had the chance to tell him everything, then he might believe me. We could be free of these problems and move forward with our betrothal.”
Sarah nodded. “I agree. No matter how a situation looks, the other person should always be allowed a chance for explanation.” Juliet nodded, and Margaret felt bolstered in her confidence that she was making the right choice, and that her feelings were justified.
She looked from one woman to the other. “So, what shall we do?”
Juliet looked at Sarah, and for a moment, Sarah twisted her lips in thought and scrunched up her nose. Suddenly, she slapped her hand on the table, and the other two women jumped in surprise. “I have it! Margaret! There is a plan and an idea. Let me tell you.”
Margaret was anxious, but her whole body was thrumming with excitement. She leaned forward and smiled as Sarah began to animatedly share her plan.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Philip had a rough night, and he felt like a hammer had commenced banging against his head as he stumbled down to the dining room for breakfast. When he arrived, his family was eating, but Edward was nowhere to be found.
Philip grumbled, “Where is Edward?”
Diana tsked. “Dear Philip, you do not even wish to say good morning to your own parents? Edward is asleep. ”
Philip winced. He was tired of following rules, but he knew he could not offend his mother. “Good morning, Mother, Father.”
Rupert nodded in greeting. “Philip. And why is it that you have joined us with a whiskey-soaked presence this morning?” His father looked at him over his spectacles, still clutching the newspaper in his hand.
“I have a lot on my mind, lately.”
“I see.” Rupert removed his glasses and tapped the edge of them to his lips. “Would it have something to do with Margaret Whitfield?”
Philip could feel himself heating up, and he wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or anger. He certainly did not want to share it with his parents. “It is nothing, Father, but I should let you know that I plan to leave on my first assignment as quickly as possible. I will write to the Naval office today to ask them for the soonest assignment they have.”
Diana whimpered a little, and Philip felt a rush of guilt. But he had to go. He could no longer stay in London, not after he had been so humiliated. “But Philip, you said that you would try to stay a little after your training.”
“Did I? I do not remember that.” He could feel his anger building as the footman entered the breakfast room.
“Mr. Winston,” he said, balancing a silver tray in front of him.
There was a letter on it. Philip snatched it up, wondering what it could be, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. He prayed it wasn’t bad news. Was Charles dead already or was someone else hurt? Did he lose all that time yesterday because he had been so angry he didn’t care if his friend was killed? He was about to open the letter, but he saw both of his parents watching him, and he thought better of it.
“Excuse me,” he said, and left the room. He could feel his mother’s eyes boring into his back. Outside in the drawing room, with fluttering fingers, he tore open the letter.
Inside, it read in that familiar scrawl that made a line of dread work its way from his stomach up through his chest,
Your friend Charles will lose the woman he loves if he does not pay up. We know that he is back in town. He will need to pay soon. Or else.
For a moment, Philip stood stunned. It was true. It was all really happening. The woman Charles loves? An icy shard pierced his heart, and he sat down, his one hand covering his mouth as he let the news spread over him.
Margaret.
But that thought did not make any sense in his brain after what he knew about Charles all these years. Philip crumpled the letter into his hands and then left for the study to write a letter to Leonard. Betrayal or no betrayal, he could not let the woman who held his heart get hurt. Not when he could stop it.
* * *
Leonard held a letter in his hands as he approached the hall. Margaret was pacing there, her shawl gripped in her hands, waiting to leave. He smiled and held up the paper in his hands.
“I have received a letter from Philip.” His face fell for a moment, and Margaret stepped forward to ask about it, but realizing that, Leonard waved her away. “I have written back to him to tell him to meet us at Havordshire Cottage, Felix’s home. All is set. I told him that I wished to meet with Felix, and that we must all work together to assist Charles.”
Margaret nodded. “Good. Thank you.”
“We are setting off soon then, are we?”
Margaret nodded again and resumed pacing, moving her gloved fingers over the fabric in hand. Would he listen? Would he forgive her?
