grateful that he is so remiss in his duties,” Nigel said. “If he cared more about the child, he would try to take her from you. I believe it would be the worse possible fate for that little girl, already so misused by the world, to be raised under the influence of such a cruel and unfeeling man.”
Margaret had not thought of that. In all her suspicions, she had never considered the possibility that Reginald would ever have attempted to take Poppy for himself. She felt a sickening relief, as though discovering that she had narrowly missed being hit by an arrow.
“You are wise to consider that possibility. It is fortunate that he has no interest in the girl. I suppose I shall be grateful that he is no longer maligning my family, and I shall take the rest instead.”
He nodded, his eyes watching her face closely. “Did you ever suspect?” he asked.
She dropped her eyes, not wanting him to see the truth there. She did not want him to know how she had meddled with the duel.
He took her silence as denial and cleared his throat. “I know that it is a shock, my lady. I did not want to speak of things that would threaten your view of the world around you. It must be most alarming indeed to imagine the people you trust in high society to be capable of such acts.”
She frowned. “I am not so sheltered as you seem to think, Captain.” She purposefully used his titled name, as he seemed so bent on holding her at arm’s length. “I have known something of the world myself. Do you know, I called upon you the other day to speak with you about the duel, but you were not at home.”
He looked at her quietly, and she realised that she was wrong on that front – he had been home, he had just chosen not to answer the door. She set her chin.
“I opposed the duel on principle,” she said quietly. “You were saved by Sir Arthur this morning. If he had not come to you, who knows what further damage might have been done.”
He looked conflicted, and opened his mouth as though to speak before shutting it quickly again. She frowned at him. “Why is it that you will not come and sit with me, sir?” she asked. “Have we not enough in common to share a bit of tea?”
“No,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of real brokenness. “No, I cannot sit with you, Lady Margaret. I came only to tell you of the results of the duel and to tell you that we must see no more of each other. Now that you are vindicated, you must go back to London and find yourself a proper husband. I fear that our attachment, while always one of friendship, will be a hindrance to your goals of marriage and family.”
His words shot through Margaret like a knife. She had never suspected that after they shared their feelings in the woods Nigel would pull away from her. She had thought all his cold behaviour to be a reaction to her opinion of the duel, or perhaps a reflection of his own confusion about their situation, but the idea that he would now turn his back on the feelings they both clearly shared had not crossed her mind. She took a step back in shock.
“Nigel,” she said, slipping back into use of his name without even thinking of it. “What do you mean?”
“I mean what I say.” Now she understood that conflicted look in his eyes. His words came out as heavy and dull as wood, but she saw his hands clenched at his side, the only real sign of how difficult this was for him to speak aloud. “I mean that we cannot…be together. I hope I do not presume too much when I say that I suspect you were growing to care for me, and I –”
“Suspect?” she cried, clasping her hands together. “You need not suspect what has been told to you as clear as day. Did we not share our true feeling with one another only a few days ago? I told you I cared for you, and if I am not mistaken you returned those feelings.”
Nigel’s face was now a perfect study in misery. He shook his head. “Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“It doesn’t have to be hard at all,” she said desperately. “Why are you