yours – it is only natural that I should pick up your turns of phrase.”
“Father says it is unusual for the son of a gamekeeper to have such vocabulary, but I tell him that you were born an intellect,” Margaret said blithely, closing her eyes as they walked.
Nigel let his gaze rest a beat longer than was proper on her clear complexion and peaceful face, and then looked away. He knew her father, Lord Somerville, had not meant to compliment him with the comment on his vocabulary.
Lord Somerville believed that people belonged in their proper place, that every man was born to a certain station, and that climbing above that station was frowned upon. He had always seemed uncomfortable with his daughter’s friendship with the gamekeeper’s son, but he had done a good turn for Nigel in recent days – a good turn that Nigel needed to tell Margaret about at last.
They crested the long hill that led down to the estate where Margaret lived. Beside it, nestled a good distance away in a copse of trees, was the little cottage where Nigel had grown up. He cleared his throat as they started down the hill.
“Maggie, I need to speak with you on a serious matter.”
She opened her eyes. “You sound unhappy. Is all well?”
“I am not unhappy. I am only…I am unsure what you will think of this news.” He waited for her to respond but she only looked at him, expectant. “Maggie, I have enlisted.”
She blinked not comprehending. “In what?”
“In the Army, Maggie. Your father purchased a place for me as an ensign in the infantry. Do you remember his friend, the major, who visited last year and took such a shine to me? He wrote the recommendation, and I received news only yesterday that I am to leave this very afternoon.”
He saw her face blanch white. “You’re going away? To fight?”
“I am.” He stopped and she did as well, her arm still linked through his. “Maggie, I’m a man now – sixteen years old and brave enough to fight for my country. Your father has given me a chance to rise above my station. Not far, mind you. But if I stay here, I will only ever be the gamekeeper’s son.”
“If you go you may very well die,” Maggie said. She pulled her arm sharply back out of his grasp and turned to look at him, her grey eyes filling with tears. “You’re leaving me? You know that I cannot do without you, Nigel. Why would my father agree to this? Why did no one tell me?”
Nigel suspected that her father was more than happy to see him slip out of Margaret’s life, but he didn’t say as much. There was no need to upset her further. I cannot do without you, Nigel. He wondered fleetingly if she was speaking out of love. But in the next moment, she seized his hands and said, “You are my very best friend, and I shall never know another like you.”
Of course. “Our friendship will not change,” he said quietly.
“I will be able to write to you?” she said, her eyes wide.
“I don’t think there will be any reliable communication available to us,” he said. “I have heard that we will be stationed on the front, and I do not think letters will often make it to and from the camp.”
The tears broke free from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She took a shallow, shuddering breath. “Nigel, I don’t want you to go.”
He wanted to take her in his arms, and he knew from the look on her face that she expected him to. It’s what he would have done when they were children. But they were not children anymore. She didn’t yet understand it, but he did – love had taught him where the lines of propriety were drawn, and the fact that she still didn’t see a reason to avoid his embrace showed him the safe and miserable place he held in her heart. He took a small step backwards.
“I’m sorry, Margaret, but I have to. I don’t have any other choice. You’ll be fine without me – you’re about to enter the season, after all. And I’m sure you’ll have many new beaus…and friends, of course, to fill my place and distract you.”
“Don’t speak like that,” she snapped, fire in her eyes. She always grew angry when she was the most devastated. “You have to come back to me. You have to promise.”