Page 41 of My Disastrous Duchess (The Untamed Ladies #2)

“Will you not sit?” Katherine asked, gesturing to the now free chairs and bringing around two new ones. “We could call for drinks. The staff here is quite accommodating.”

More platitudes. Did her mother ever have an honest word to say? Margaret eyed the coral beads around her mother’s neck. “That will not be necessary. We are not staying long. We mean to discuss your future... You cannot remain here at the inn for all time.”

“Of course not. But you sound so very serious, Margaret,” Katherine said. “We are your parents. We aim to reach a happy conclusion for all of us. And tell me about Eliza—tell me how she is getting on.”

“Better than ever, by my estimation. It is truly surprising how a child’s development is influenced by their environment. She is shining at Somerstead Hall. Does it please you to know that?”

“We would never deny Eliza her happiness,” William said. “Nor you, Margaret. Whatever you have come to say, know that we will listen with open minds and hearts.”

Margaret felt Alexander settle beside her.

They had spoken long into the night the day prior, discussing how best to move forward with Margaret’s parents.

She had never admired Alexander so much as in those moments, when he had inclined his head gently down to her and swore to ensure her safety, when he had kissed her cheek, by the ear, and promised to protect her.

“Because much is owed to you,” her father continued, cutting through her thoughts. “Chief of all, an overdue apology. It was not right, my descending out of thin air upon your home. I see that now and would beg your forgiveness.”

Margaret scrunched her nose at her father’s newfound politeness. Those were Katherine’s planted words.

“Now is not the time for apologies,” Alexander said. “What has happened will remain in the past and not be discussed further.”

“And I fear there is nothing that could be said that would change my feelings toward you anyway,” Margaret added quietly.

“Feelings which are dark indeed,” her father murmured.

Katherine intervened. “Now, now. There is no need to speak with so much hostility, such permanence.”

“I am afraid that there is, My Lady,” Alexander injected. “It is precisely his lordship’s impermanence which has brought your daughters such grief. We have come today with terms—an arrangement which should prove suitable to all.”

William looked mistrustful, the shrewd businessman still alive within him despite his ruin. He nodded for Alexander to continue.

"My terms are clear and fixed. I have privileges concerning the mine we still share down by Mere. I am prepared to cede full legal rights to you—ownership and profits for as long as you live—provided you promise to maintain your place outside of society, to disappear further into obscurity than you already have, in Northumberland, or otherwise. The Viscount Pembroke should remain lost to all, excepting whomever you take into your company where you decide to settle. The ton may come to learn of your survival, but they will never receive you again in this flesh. We will have our realm, and you will have yours.”

Margaret watched her parents stiffen. The fire flickered over her father’s face, while her mother’s cheeks turned white.

“These are austere terms,” William replied, audibly swallowing.

Alexander responded earnestly: “Yet necessary. I have determined the mine is the surest and quickest way to obtain your financial freedom from your many debtors. The allowance I have so far permitted Lady Pembroke will be interrupted, naturally, knowing the quarry shall sustain you forevermore. Margaret and I will not entertain further entanglement with you. Your reconciliation, your survival, will not concern us past the point of your agreement.”

“But condemning us to a small country life...” Katherine pinched her lips. “You are asking us to forfeit our titles in all but name.”

“They are of no use to you any longer,” Alexander said, his cold efficiency impressing Margaret.

“The Pembroke title has been besmirched beyond salvage. If you are inclined to bear the name of disgrace, that is your decision alone. I ask only that you exist far from us, not in Salisbury nor London, nor anywhere else that would draw attention.”

Margaret found her voice. “This means your independence. It means no more debts, no more creditors at your door. You said you returned to make things right. This is the only way.”

“It is a heavy sentence,” Katherine cried. “The end of everything we know.”

“Do you really believe the ton will accept Father into their midst again?” Margaret asked. “Not without help from His Grace and me. But that is not the help we are willing to give. You have asked much of me already, to say nothing of your lies. It is your turn to make amends.”

“Margaret, you must reconsider—” Katherine tried.

“No,” William spoke. “Their terms are fair.”

Margaret’s breath hitched with surprised relief. But her mother looked like she was about to swoon, snapping at the viscount.

“William, what are you doing? They ask too much of us!”

“Enough, Katherine.” William stepped forward, and for the first time since his return, he looked genuinely repentant. “This struggle has gone on for too long. If this is what Margaret wishes, this is what she will have.”

“Wait,” Margaret cut in, holding her breath. “Before you accept, I have one more request. You will have the means to live quietly, but not to provide Eliza the life she deserves. Receive your mine, rebuild your lives... but allow Eliza to remain with us forever.”

Katherine’s breath trembled in anger. “You would take not only our influence on our daughter too? You are mad, Margaret, and so selfish?—”

“I am thinking of what is best for Eliza, something you have never done.” Margaret turned to her father.

“You know we can give her what you cannot. If Eliza should want to reunite with her parents, now or in the years to come, she will be given the choice. As soon as we return home, I will explain things to her. I would not withhold that from her. That is what it shall be. Her choice. And now you must make yours.”

Her parents were silent for a moment, looking at each other. Margaret second-guessed herself, wondering if she was being unfair.

I must not forget everything they have done to Eliza—using her as a pawn time and time again, allowing her and me to believe that our father was dead. She will be safer with me and Alexander. And if she wants to return to our parents, I will let her go sadly but dutifully.

“Are we agreed?” Alexander asked.

Her father sighed, turning from Katherine with a nod. “Yes.”

Margaret exhaled, fighting the tears that sprang from her eyes.

“I will ensure my solicitor has papers drawn and signed posthaste. There will be clauses to ensure the security of all,” Alexander said, smiling at Margaret. “But this is not the beginning of the end for you. It is merely the start of something new.”

The manor was quiet, but the silence did not unsettle Margaret.

Most of the staff had long retired, and she sent Augusta to bed when she greeted them at the doors.

Now following Alexander into his study, Margaret looked forward to the celebratory drink he had promised before they took to their rooms.

Her nerves tingled with the events of the night, fingers trembling, as she took the glass from Alexander and raised it in toast.

“ Veni, vidi, vici ,” he said, smiling at her before downing his drink.

“Only you would christen a night like this with words like that,” Margaret replied, taking a sip. Alexander laughed, leaning against the desk as he watched her. “All things considered, they were much more amenable than I imagined.”

“They have nothing more to lose. The mine is a profitable venture. It will not provide them a life of riches, but it should allow your father to repay his debts twice over and support a modest lifestyle after that. It remains to be seen whether he is as good as his word. When I visited the solicitor this morning, he included a clause...”

He trailed off, and Margaret peered at him over her glass.

“Which is of no interest to you, I see.”

“I am merely leaving the finer points to you. It suffices that Eliza is safe for now.” She hummed in thought. “I meant what I said to them. I will give Eliza the choice in the morning. If she decides to return to them, I will not stop her.”

“She loves you,” Alexander said, taking Margaret’s drink when she handed it to him. His hand looped around her waist, and he drew her in close. “And I... What is it?”

Margaret examined his desk, her heart leaping into her throat. Alexander looked at her, then turned, following the line of her eyes until he saw what she did.

There was a note on the table, addressed directly to him.

“Do you think it could be from my father?” Margaret asked. “Perhaps he changed his mind after all.”

Alexander set down their glasses and picked up the note. He sliced through the seal, read the contents...

His eyes went wide.

“It says it is from Isadore.”

“What does it say?”

Alexander snarled. “She writes that she is with Bastian, right here in Wiltshire. But... It is not a letter.” He paused. “It is a ransom note for his life.”