his personal matters, but I don’t mind. I’m happy enough to have him back again, even if he is a bit more closed off than I would like.”
Margaret nodded and took her leave of the man, her mind spinning. If Nigel insisted upon being apart from the Somerville estate for the next few days, then the duel and all its horrible implications must be around the corner. She had to do something – had to intervene.
She thought about calling the magistrate straight up and getting him involved, but she didn’t want to incriminate Nigel. She needed someone more powerful who could reason with the two men. More than that, she needed to know when it was, and where.
She stopped inside only to change into a longer riding jacket, then went directly to the stable and ordered a horse brought around for herself. The light was only barely soaking into late afternoon, but she sent word with the stable boy to her father, telling him she had pressing business outside the home and should not be expected back for the evening meal.
The ride to Sir Arthur’s was an unfamiliar one, but she made quick work of it, urging her horse on along the uneven road. Sir Arthur’s serious, monumental estate loomed ahead, and she slid off the horse’s back barely seconds after it had drawn to a stop.
The butler opened up after her second knock and, though clearly surprised to see her, showed her into the main hall where she was to wait patiently for Major Moorhouse, who was reportedly out in the garden at the moment. She waited, nervous. The entire ride she had known that a speech of some sort would be required, but she had not been able to calm her own mind and heart enough to fashion one.
When the butler returned with the tall, serious-faced man she only barely recognised as the major, she still felt uncertain. [D3]
“Lady Margaret,” the man said, clearly taken aback.
She cleared her throat and stepped forward into a light curtsy. “I am sorry to disturb you, sir. I don’t know if you remember me, but we met in London.”
“I do remember you,” he said slowly. “And to what do I owe the honour of this visit from yourself?”
“I wish to speak with you in private about a most urgent matter,” she said quietly. She knew how this would look, could almost feel the butler eyeing her with distrust and planning how he might tell the whole county about the arrival of Lady Margaret and her intention to speak in private with a single young man. Some things, however, were more important than reputation. That, after all, was why she had come in the first place.
The major only hesitated a moment, and then cleared his throat and showed her to the parlour without protest. He attempted to send for tea, but she interrupted the gesture. “I will not be staying long,” she said. “You need not entertain me.”
He let the request fall and sent the butler away. Margaret remained standing and so the major did as well, a good space of carpet between them in the quiet, heavily decorated room. She cleared her throat, knowing it would be up to herself to begin, to explain her reason for being there.
“You may well be surprised at my presence,” she said. “I know that we have only once been introduced, and therefore it is more than a little shocking that I should appear on your doorstep.”
“If we are being quite correct,” he said with a smile, “It is Sir Arthur’s doorstep you have imposed upon, not mine.”
“Of course,” she said. “But it is you that I have come to see. I wish to discuss our mutual acquaintance.”
“Captain Bateson,” he said without hesitation.
“Yes.”
“However, I would venture to take it a step further than an acquaintance and claim him as a very dear and singular friend,” the major said, his eyes steady on her own.
“Then perhaps you are aware of a certain foolhardy mission he is undertaking on my account in the coming days,” she said quietly. She waited, unwilling to say more without confirmation. The major nodded crisply.
“I am aware.”
“Are you then acknowledging that it is foolhardy?” she asked, hopeful. “If you are as close a friend as you claim to be, might it not be in your power to put an end to this nonsense? Duelling is illegal at best and deadly at its worst.”
The major let out a sigh and walked to the mantelpiece,