Page 75 of Duke of Gold
Anna smiled knowingly. “Think nothing of it.”
They wandered into a quieter stretch of the park, the rustling leaves and distant birdsong offering a reprieve from the hum of society. Just as Margaret began to relax, a faint, distressed whimper reached her ears.
She stopped abruptly, her head tilting as she strained to listen. There it was again—a soft sound, followed by rustling from within a cluster of nearby shrubbery.
“Peggy, what are you doing?” Anna asked, her voice tinged with concern as Margaret took a step toward the noise.
Margaret held up a hand, signaling for silence. “Did you hear that?”
Anna’s eyes narrowed warily. “I heard something, yes. But what if it’s a snake?” she called after her.
Margaret hesitated briefly, her heart quickening as she approached the shrubbery. Ignoring Anna’s warning, she moved closer, her curiosity and concern overriding her apprehension. Whatever—or whoever—was in distress, she could not simply walk away.
“Snakes do not make such sounds, Anna,” Margaret said with a soft chuckle, casting her cousin an amused glance. “You needn’t let your imagination run so wild.”
Anna crossed her arms, her brows lifting skeptically. “Well, you cannot blame me for exercising caution. You are far too curious for your own good, Peggy.”
Margaret merely smiled as she pushed aside the last of the shrubbery, her curiosity rewarded with the sight of the tiniest kitten she had ever seen. A delighted squeal escaped her lips. “Oh, Anna, look!”
The kitten was curled into a trembling ball, its fur a mix of soft gray and white, though streaked with dust and leaves. Its wide,frightened eyes gazed up at her, and it let out a plaintive mewl that tugged at Margaret’s heart.
“Poor thing,” she murmured, her voice gentle as she knelt down. Without hesitation, she reached for the tiny creature, scooping it up carefully and holding it to her bosom. The kitten snuggled against her warmth almost immediately, its eyes fluttering closed in contentment.
“Well,” Anna said with a laugh, stepping closer. “It seems to think you are its mother already.”
Margaret smiled, stroking the kitten’s fur with light fingers. “I wish I could keep it,” she said softly, the words carrying an unexpected significance. She held the tiny creature closer, her heart tugging pleasantly at its warmth and vulnerability.
“And why shouldn’t you?” Anna asked, reaching out to stroke the kitten’s matted fur. “It is adorable, and I daresay it would be a most agreeable companion.”
Margaret sighed, her smile faltering. “Uncle does not like cats,” she admitted. “He cannot tolerate them, you know. He sneezes incessantly if one so much as enters the house.”
Anna waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, what does that matter? You no longer live here, Peggy. You have your own home, and no one to tell you otherwise.”
The reminder landed softly but heavily, like a feather that carried more significance than it ought. Margaret’s smile faded entirely as she turned her gaze back to the kitten, her fingers brushing gently along its back. She had momentarily forgotten that she no longer lived in her family home—that she had a life, a house, and, theoretically, a future that was entirely her own.
But the thought brought no comfort. Instead, it left her feeling hollow. Could she truly bear to return to that life? A life where Morgan was close in proximity yet impossibly far in every other way?
She would remain with her family.
The thought brought a strange mix of relief and sorrow. She would have to break the news to them gently, of course—her father, her siblings, even Anna, who likely believed Margaret would eventually find her way back to her husband. But Margaret’s resolve hardened with each passing moment. She would not allow herself to be cast aside so easily, not when her heart still clung to Morgan despite his actions.
As for the kitten, she glanced down at the tiny creature, now sound asleep against her chest. Its trust in her was almost painful, a reminder of her own vulnerability. She would take it home, warm it, and ensure it had food. And then… she would make arrangements to find it a permanent home elsewhere.
Her heart ached at the thought. She wanted nothing more than to keep it, to find solace in its companionship, but she could not bring herself to inconvenience her uncle. The man could barelytolerate cats, and she had resolved to stay with her family for good.
Her fingers lightly stroked the kitten’s fur, her thoughts drifting back to Morgan. The sharp sting of his words, the coldness in his eyes—it all felt like a knife lodged deep within her chest.Why must I love him so?she wondered, her chest tightening with a painful longing. Hopelessly, desperately, irrevocably in love with a man who had so clearly pushed her away.
The decision to stay with her family felt safe, even if it was not what her heart truly wanted. She would find her footing here, surrounded by the people who loved her unconditionally. That would have to be enough.
It had to be .
Anna, walking slightly ahead, turned back with a smile. “You are quiet, Peggy. Lost in thought?”
Margaret forced a small laugh, adjusting her grip on the kitten. “Merely considering what this little one might eat. I suspect milk and bread will have to suffice for now.”
Anna chuckled. “You shall spoil it, no doubt. But it seems you have already won its devotion.”
Margaret’s smile softened, though her heart remained heavy. As the two cousins made their way back toward the house, Margaret’s resolve faltered briefly. She cast one last glance overher shoulder at the horizon, wondering if Morgan was thinking of her at that moment.
