Justine recoiled in shock from the accusation. ‘When have I ever lied to you?’
‘When have you ever told me the truth?’ Margot answered. ‘You hardly speak to me at all, if speaking is what I can call the sparse letters you send to me in Canterbury.’
‘The shop has been busy,’ she said, trying to evade the truth. ‘There has not been time to write much.’
‘If it is busy, then I should be there with you, helping,’ Margot replied. ‘And then we might speak whenever we wished.’
‘A shop is no place for an impressionable young woman,’ Justine said firmly.
Margot scoffed. ‘It is a jewellery shop, not an alehouse. And you have been working in it since you were two years younger than I am now.’
Justine felt a moment’s revulsion at the true nature of her duties. At seventeen, she had been more naïve than Margot was now, and fallen easily into the trap Montague had set for her. Then repeated what she said each time Margot argued for a return to Bath. ‘Perhaps, when you have completed your education...’
‘I have more than enough education to take my place in a family business,’ her sister said. ‘I am older than most of the girls at the school and have learned all that they can teach me. Everyone remarks on the way I remain there between terms, as if I have no family at all.’ The girl’s face clouded and she appeared on the verge of tears. ‘Whatever I have done to earn this rejection from you, I am sorry for it. I will prove I have learned my lesson, if you will but let me come home.’
‘Do not think that,’ Justine said hurriedly, putting an arm around the girl. ‘It is nothing you have done. I have done what I have done to protect you.’
‘But why do I need protection? Why must I remain in school, so far away from you? Can you not at least tell me that?’
At this, she hugged Margot close and felt tears wetting the shoulder of her gown. She had hidden so much, in an attempt to keep her sister pure. What could she reveal now that would calm her fears? ‘Do not cry, little one. Our separation is at an end. You will live here, now, with Lord Felkirk and myself. It was never my desire that we be apart. The situation in Bath was...complicated.’
Margot lifted her head and rolled her eyes. ‘If this is over you and Mr Montague, I know of it already.’
Justine shrank back, horrified.
Margot smiled at her. ‘I have seen the way he looks at you, Justine. And I have seen him kiss you, when you both think I am not nearby.’
‘You know?’ She could not understand the whole truth, or she would not speak so casually of her sister’s disgrace.
‘Of course. It is quite plain that he has a tendre for you. He must wish to wed you, even though that is not at all proper for a guardian.’ She frowned. ‘Since you have been of age for years, and I have heard no announcement of engagement, I assumed that you were not similarly interested. But that does not explain why you married another so suddenly. And why did you not tell me of it immediately?’ Margot’s tears had dried. But it was clear that she was still deeply hurt by the sudden turn of fortune.
Justine smoothed her sister’s hair and kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘I am sorry I did not tell you immediately. But my dear, the situation is so much more complicated than you think.’
The ever-pragmatic Margot pulled away and cocked her head to the side, as though considering. ‘I fail to see why. I assume you kept me in the dark because you have not told Mr Montague of the marriage. Since you are of age already, you can do what you wish without his permission. Do not mind his tender heart, if your happiness lies with another. Simply demand your inheritance and go. If you wish, I will return to Bath and explain for you.’
‘No,’ Justine said hurriedly. ‘You must not. I have not told you before because I am not actually married to Will.’
Margot’s jaw dropped. ‘You are his mistress?’
‘No. That is not it either.’ And how was she to explain the rest of it? ‘There was an accident,’ she said. ‘Lord Felkirk was injured and I was responsible. He remembers nothing of our meeting, or what happened after. I brought him here and told his family we were married.’
At this, Margot laughed. ‘How did you come to meet the man in the first place, much less cause an accident?’
‘This next will be difficult to explain. When Father died...’ Justine took her sister’s hand ‘...he was here, Margot. On the road that runs just past this house. Lord Felkirk was the one who found him. He sought me out in Bath, claiming that he found the diamonds. But then...there was an accident.’
Margot withdrew her hand. ‘And you are only pretending to be married to him so that you can find the stones.’
‘They are ours, Margot. We have but to find them. If we sell them, we shall have more than enough money to last a lifetime. We need not go back to Bath at all.’
The girl looked more disappointed by this revelation than she had at any of the others. ‘We have more than enough money now, Justine. Is not half the jewellery shop rightly ours?’
‘Well, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But it is not the same as money in the purse. Mr Montague—’
‘Mr Montague has managed both halves for years,’ Margot interrupted. ‘As long as it is profitable, I see no reason he cannot continue to do so. You may not approve of it, dear sister, but when I am old enough, I mean to help him there. You might tell me that it is improper to do so, but I know just as much about gems as you and am ever so much better at maths than I am at lacemaking.’
It was a future that Justine had not bothered to imagine. Once Margot was safely of age, Montague might cease to threaten the girl’s innocence and allow her to marry. But if she insisted on returning to her old home, she would be walking into a trap. The only way to escape him would be to sell the business and start again.
‘If Father knew what had become of us, he would not wish us to remain in partnership with Mr Montague,’ she said, as gently as possible. ‘He would want us to find the diamonds and take them as our real inheritance. Or perhaps appeal to the Duke of Bellston for help. If he wished you to continue in business, Father would rather have seen you with a shop of your own than beholden to Mr Montague.’
Her sister sighed and took her hand. ‘Justine, it has been twenty years. You still talk of finding justice for Father and regaining what was once ours. It has earned you nothing but trouble. This wild scheme of pretending to be Lord Felkirk’s wife is proof of that.’
‘I had my reasons,’ Justine said, trying not to let her frustration show.
Margot shook her head. ‘I cannot understand what they could possibly be. But I know you must let go of this quest for lost family treasure. Perhaps it is because you can remember Father and our old life in Belgium. But I cannot. He was dead before I was born, Justine. Mother died when I was still young. I have known nothing but England and school, and Mr Montague. And difficult though he is, he is not such a bad man.’
‘He is evil, Margot,’ Justine said, unable to contain the truth. ‘I cannot go back to him. And I will not allow you to do so, either.’
‘I fail to see how you can stop me,’ Margot said, in a reasonable tone. ‘In a year, I will be old enough to make my own decisions on the matter. My own mistakes as well.’ She gave her sister an arch look. ‘But whatever I do, I suspect it will not end with me in a false marriage to a stranger. How you can manage to stay out of the man’s bed is beyond me.’ She paused and then said in a worried voice, ‘Lord Felkirk is a most handsome man, of course. And kind as well. But I trust that you have not stooped so low as to give up your honour to convince him that you are his