Page 24 of The Rake
“Indeed.” Margot followed him. She had no desire to tell another soul the truth of her birth. No matter that it might explain to the earl why the duke trusted her.
“Strange,” Langley said. “You are not of this world, and were raised so far away. But his grace decided on a whim that?—”
“His grace was perhaps not in the best place to be picky, given he had just been shot,” Margot said drily. She sank into the seat next to Langley. “His judgement may have been different had he not been attacked.”
“I assumed he invited you down with the task of distributing his wealth.”
“As to that, I cannot say,” Margot said. “I did not know him well enough to know his decisions.”
“Had I been in Ashmore’s shoes…” Langley paused. “I suppose an untried girl unfamiliar with thetonseems like an odd choice. Perhaps he did not know the danger of the task.”
Perhaps he did, Margot thought, and he thought her life was worth the risk.
Langley was digging in an attempt to discover the dark truth about her history. Margot shifted in her seat. She hated the idea that someone might discover her secret, and then that person would have a way of attacking her. Or worse, her mother. She wondered how Langley would react were he to know she was a bastard. Presumably he would treat her with less respect—after all, he was the one who was so knowledgeable about thetonand its rules.
“If we are to continue to look for the keys,” Langley said into the painful silence, “co-ordinating would seem wise.”
“If we are seen repeatedly together, talk will start.”
“I think my reputation will survive,” Langley said.
Margot refused to laugh in response. She would not be amused by his antics. Nor would she be charmed by his willingness to help her. She needed his help, but otherwise she needed to resist him as a man.
“I would also suggest we arrange to meet and pick where we go next. Simply put, have a plan for our strategy going forward.For the different locations,” Langley continued. A small spark within her wished to smile because he had used the term ‘ours’. “I can rouse myself relatively early tomorrow, and arrange for this before your companion wakes. Perhaps ten o’clock?”
To this, Margot could not hide her confusion. “Ten being early? According to you?”
“Mrs. Bowley will not be awake until at least eleven in the morning. On that I would take a bet.”
“No need,” Margot said. “I will meet you tomorrow in the garden at eight.”
“You will be waiting awhile; I never rouse myself that early. I will call on you at a civilised time.”
Margot made a disapproving noise, got to her feet, and walked away from him, calling back over her shoulder, “Good night, Langley.”
She was almost disappointed that he did not follow her back into the ball with an offer to dance, but hopefully in the harsh light of the following day she would be a great deal less charmed by him.
The restof the ball was a blur, but Margot was self-aware enough to know that she was sad not to see Langley again, or have a chance to dance with him. She would, of course, deny this if anyone were to ever question her on this matter. How had he become such an overwhelming desirous presence to her?
When she arrived home, she told her maid to wake her early, and watched Mrs. Bowley go to bed. Climbing between her own sheets, Margot tried to sleep, but found half the night was occupied by thoughts of the earl. For some reason, every time she dozed off, the memory of his half-naked body wouldreappear. The shape of his calves, the dark blond hair on his forearms, Lud, even the shape of his strong feet held an appeal that she could feel in the depths of her stomach, and trailing out from there. Margot rolled over and prayed for dawn to arrive and for her wanton thoughts to depart.
When Jessop knocked, Margot roused herself and hurriedly dressed in her morning gown, one of soft mauve with a lace trim, before sitting down and drafting a letter to her sister. She needed to pace herself and not hurry, awaiting eagerly for the meeting with Langley.
Besides, she told herself, she was keen to make the most of her handsome chamber. It was nice to finally have her own bedroom. It was clearly just a guestroom, but nonetheless it was the first time that Margot had ever had her own room.
She stared down at the desk and the thick sheet of paper, keen to tell her sister everything that had occurred. Yet dare she place all the news on the page? Hopefully Elsie was now safely in Cornwall and had found the new duke. Margot tried her best not to imagine what the man would be like. She hoped since he was her cousin, he might be sympathetic. Predicting the aristocracy was difficult though, given who Margot had met so far. Perhaps it would be wiser to have the old duke’s death announced… That was another point she needed to consider. In the end she wrote a simple note expressing the hope that Elsie had safely arrived, and telling her sister about the beautiful gown she had worn to the ball the night before. It was the sort of thing that Elsie would have enjoyed.
Outside her bedroom window, the day was a pretty one, a bright spring day, and the air was warm and pleasant. There were birds in the sky, colouring her experience and reminding Margot of her faraway home and her distant parents. She was missing all her family, and it was distressing for them to be so far away.
“Miss Keating?” Jessop entered her chamber, and gave Margot an excited smile. “There is a gentleman downstairs. Lord Langley is requesting your presence.”
Of course, Margot thought, even Jessop was thrilled by the arrival of Langley. He could charm the birds from the skies if he so desired.
“Do you wish to have Mrs. Bowley present?” Jessop looked a bit uncertain, but Margot gave a reassuring shake of her head.
“No, that won’t be necessary. If you will remain in the room, that will be sufficient. His lordship may be here to discuss business.”
“Oh, well he did bring flowers. Anemones and roses,” Jessop gushed as Margot got to her feet and exited the chamber, heading downstairs to meet her guest.
