Page 27 of Seducing an Earl under the Mistletoe
She wiped her eyes with a dainty white handkerchief she held in her hand, her eyes reflecting his sentiments. “I feel the same. This engagement, these expectations, it’s like a heavy shroud. I think we both deserve something more genuine, something that aligns with our hearts. But reality is different. Things are as they are, and I doubt we can change anything.”
Before he could say anything to this, she leaned towards him and tried to kiss him. He instinctively pulled back the moment their lips grazed against each other, shocked at her endeavor. It was a reaction driven by a sense of wrongness.
“I’m sorry,” Margot stammered, her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. “I simply…had to be certain. To know if there was anything between us.”
Arthur shook his head gently, offering her a compassionate smile to assure her that he did not hold this against her. “I understand, Margot. But I fear you might be seeking an answer that does not lie in me.”
She sighed heavily. “My heart is and always will belong to James,” she told him. “Just like yours belongs to someone else. We cannot change how we feel.”
As Margot confronted him with the question of love and the tangled web of relationships they found themselves in, Arthur felt a tidal wave of confusion and conflict.
“I’m not in love with anyone else,” he replied, frowning. “I do not know where you got this preposterous idea.”
She didn’t even turn to look at him as she spoke. “You can try and deceive yourself all you want. That is your choice. However, you should find out quickly whether the woman you love would be happy as your mistress or not.”
“Mistress?” Arthur asked, stunned by this comment.
This time, she did turn to him. Her eyes were cold, fathomless. “I know you might think me unreasonable, but I want this marriage of convenience to be arranged. What I don’t want is for either of us to be unhappy, so I suppose for that reason, we will take up lovers at some point, when everything else loses meaning, which I fear has already started to happen. Such is the way of things, Arthur.”
The suggestion Margot made, of taking lovers while maintaining the façade of their engagement, struck him like a blow. It was a path he had never wanted, never envisioned for himself. The clash between societal expectations and the desires of the heart left him torn.
“I don’t like this any more than you do,” she continued solemnly as if reciting a dirge. “We will try to make it work…somehow.”
He immediately thought of the marriage his own parents had, living so far apart as to never think about each other but still be bound by a name that connected them. Nothing else. No emotions, nothing. It sounded like a prison sentence, not a marriage.
“We will,” he nodded, getting up.
He hesitated before placing his hand gently on her shoulder. A minute later, he was retreating back to his carriage, but as he did so, a shiver of unease coursed through him, for he had caught a glimpse of that same enigmatic figure once again. The shadows seemed to dance and play tricks on his eyes as he strained to pierce through the dimness of the trees around him, but the mysterious silhouette remained elusive.
He felt an urgency, a need to unravel the mysteries that had enshrouded him. The cryptic happenings and the unsettling appearances of this figure were like a riddle that gnawed at the corners of his consciousness.
In a surge of determination, Arthur bolted in the direction where he thought he saw the shadowy figure. His boots pounded against the damp earth, the cold air biting his cheeks as he pushed deeper and deeper into the woods. The trees loomed tall and twisted, their branches forming dark silhouettes against the waning light.
The trees seemed to absorb every sound, enveloping him in eerie silence. His eyes darted in every direction, desperate for any sign of the elusive figure.
Yet, despite his frantic pursuit, the mysterious presence eluded him. Each twist and turn only deepened the mystery, leaving him with a sense of frustration and futility. The figure was a reality. He did not imagine it. He was sure of it. It was now slipping through his grasp like smoke.
Breathing heavily, Arthur came to a halt, realizing that he had lost the chase. He leaned against a gnarled tree, chest heaving and frustration mounting. He vowed to redouble his efforts, to unravel the secrets that seemed to entwine around him, haunting his every step.
With a determined resolve, he turned back, deciding that answers might lie elsewhere—perhaps in the wisdom and experience of the old Bow Street Runner, who might have found something out in the meantime. But Arthur also knew that he could not let Margot stay here alone. It was too perilous. Whoever it was, was following not only Arthur but Margot as well, which meant that they were both in danger.
Chapter 11
Amidst the ornate and bustling atmosphere of theTheatre Royal, the Winters family gathered to witness a play. The air buzzed with excitement and the murmur of eager theatergoers. Catherine, however, found herself unimpressed, her heart yearning for the vibrant performances and lively scenes of London’s Covent Garden.
“Why do you seem so miserable?” Marcus inquired, leaning closer as they all slowly entered, walking over to their box.
“I’m not miserable,” Catherine explained. “I merely miss the theatrical vivacity of Covent Garden,” she remarked, her discontent evident.
Marcus immediately caught her discontented groan, shooting her a reproachful, brotherly look. “Oh, the London snobbery surfaces already?” he chided, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
“I am not a snob,” Catherine retorted, her pride stung. “I simply appreciate the arts, and the London theatre scene has a certain flair that is unmatched.”
Virginie interjected, attempting to ease the tension. “Come now, let us enjoy the play. I’m certain it will be lovely. Besides, it is a night out with the entire family. We should rejoice in this. How often are we all together?”
Catherine had to admit that her sister was right. After all, she had come here not for the theatrical delights but rather to spend time with her family, and that was exactly what she was doing now.
As they were slowly making their way to their box, Catherine’s eyes swept the theatre, alighting upon Arthur seated in a box opposite theirs. A pleasant surprise warmed her heart. He was in attendance with his mother and Margot. Jealousy gripped at her so suddenly that it almost punched all the air out of her lungs. She cleared her throat a little, calming down momentarily.
