fiercely. “I will always take care of you, dear, because you belong with me now. We will carry your mother’s memory in our hearts, and you will never be alone.”
“What is belong?” the girl asked quietly. It was the most conversation they had ever shared, and Margaret’s heart swelled with gratitude.
“It’s the feeling you get when you know you should be somewhere, when you know the people there love you, and when you know you are wanted.” Margaret looked down at the little face turned up to her. For the first time, the eyes staring back at hers were neither empty nor angry – they were only earnest, as the girl listened. She tweaked Poppy’s nose. “And you, my dear, are wanted,” she said softly. “You are very wanted indeed.”
“Not alone?” the girl asked, eyes wide.
“Never alone.” Margaret hugged her a little closer and they sat in silence for a few moments. Then the little girl tugged at Margaret’s nightgown gently.
“Aunt Margaret?” she asked. “You said Poppy.”
Margaret smiled to herself in the darkness. “You know what, Poppy? When I was a little girl like you I had a name I liked far better than Margaret, and I had a dear friend who called me by that name – it was Maggie. I don’t have that friend anymore, and so nobody calls me that name. But he would always pretend in public to call me Margaret, and in quiet I was Maggie.”
The girl listened, not understanding yet. Margaret smiled down at her. “So here is a deal. When it is just you and me, we will call each other Aunt Maggie and Poppy. We will know our truest names, better than all the rest of the world. But in public, you must introduce yourself as Penelope and call me Aunt Margaret for the sake of all those who don’t share our special understanding.”
She felt the little head at her side nod emphatically.
“Aunt Maggie?” the voice lifted once more. “Tell me about Mama.”
Margaret felt tears well up in her eyes and was glad that the darkness shielded them from the child. Gently petting the child’s hair, she began to talk.
“Poppy, your mother was a very beautiful woman, and very kind as well. I first met her when we were both children in the village. I was alone almost all of the time, because my father didn’t understand why I would need friends and didn’t want me to spend time around people who were…different. My father doesn’t know everything,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper. “Your mother had lovely flaxen plaits and was playing a skipping game on the village green. She invited me to join, but I didn’t know the rules. She left all the other children, who didn’t like me and were afraid of me, and taught me every part of the game until I had learnt it by heart. Have you ever played the skipping game?”
The only answer was the soft, whiffling breath of the little girl in her arms. Poppy had at last fallen asleep, blissfully, happily. Margaret had never seen her like this, clinging to an adult, eyes shut and at peace finally.
The wind continued to beat against the casement and the lightning outside continued to flash. But Margaret felt her own exhaustion taking over as well. She drifted off to sleep, the little girl in her arms, both of their fears for the moment calmed by the presence of each other.
Chapter 5
“You’re not planning on bringing the girl with you?” Lord Somerville stood by the door to the laden carriage, frozen in place. He had informed Margaret a few months before that she was to go to the London season for the first time this year, escorted by his venerable self.
On the day that they were to leave, Margaret had appeared downstairs with Poppy hanging onto one hand and her valise in the other. She winced at her father’s tone and leaned down to speak with the little girl on the same level.
“Dear one, please hurry into the carriage. I need to speak to my father alone.” When the girl had done as she was asked, Margaret turned to Lord Somerville, her lips pressed tightly together. “Father, I don’t like that you only speak about Penelope and never to her. It’s rude. And while she is a young thing, I can assure you she understands the insult. Of course she is coming with me. She has undergone a traumatic experience and is only now beginning to adjust