wind had loosened her hair almost entirely. It was held back by only a few pins and whirled around her nearly to her waist, dancing in the wind. He drew his eyes from it and looked out to the sea.
“If the matter regarding Poppy were not at issue, you would marry this man your father chose for you – would you not?” He shrugged. “It is only that the girl I remember would never have bent to such bullying.”
He wondered for a moment if the hardness on her face would turn towards him, but it did not. She sighed, looking more weary than angry. “It is easy for a man to speak of bending and breaking, but we women have not the choices available to us that you do.”
“I mean no offence.” He moved a step closer to her. “It is only that I would not have you give yourself away so soon to a man undeserving of you.”
“What do you know about Lord Waddington?” she asked, turning to look up into his eyes. Hers were like dark pools – they drew him in. “There is something you are hiding from me, Nigel. I know you too well to guess otherwise.”
He thought of Poppy, of Molly Smith, and of the suspicion that had arisen in his mind that the ruffian who had used Molly ill and then left her to die alone and in disgrace was the same dark-eyed man who was now pursuing Margaret. He shook his head as though to clear it. He had no proof, and he was liable to disbelieve his own gossip. Nigel knew that he was hardly an unbiased source in this matter.
“I am only relieved that you are set against marrying a man like Reginald,” he said, unable to draw his gaze away from hers.
She smiled then, teasing, as she used to do when they were young children. “Very well, lord and protector of my honour, what sort of man would you have me marry if I am to turn down this offer?”
“Someone better,” he said quietly. “Someone who knows you well and would treat you with respect.”
“Someone like you, I suppose?” she said with a light laugh. It wasn’t the words, but the easy way with which she said them that cut at him. She didn’t speak like a woman who loved him, but like a girl teasing a boy.
He couldn’t bring himself to laugh, couldn’t bring himself to look away from her eyes, and so her joke was met with a serious gaze. He saw the look cross her face – startled, realising that she had gone too far. He wondered if she was afraid of the intensity in his eyes and knew that if he poured out his heart here on the cliffs she would be too overwhelmed to give him the answer he desired.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said quickly. “I was only teasing.”
He took a deep breath and stepped away from her. “It is not a joke with any meaning,” he said quietly. “After all, we can never marry. I was only speaking about the men in your life because I am your friend, and friends care what happens to one another.” His heart broke with every word, but he forced himself to smile gently at her. “No harm has been done.”
Margaret only nodded, the laughter dying on her lips. He knew that she hoped her silence would make everything fade back to the way it had been. But he was just as certain that such a thing was impossible. Something had changed between them.
“Shall we walk back?” he said. “I don’t want you to be missed.”
As they made their way along the path, she ventured tentatively, “You are very brave, Nigel.”
“That is a common misconception about war heroes,” he said with a quiet laugh, doing what he could to restore things to the easy conversation she clearly desired. “In reality, we are hardly charging into situations as courageous men. We are more often just trying to survive and doing the next right thing.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t speaking of your service,” she said. “I meant that you are brave in all things.”
“What do you mean?” he pressed.
“I mean that you are brave to talk to me. You have been open with me today, and I appreciate your honesty.” She took a quick breath that told him she was still nervous and trying to pull back the shreds of what had been lost in that