The young lady came very near to passing by again before turning back, as though she wished the nerve to enter, but hadn’t quite mustered it. She was young enough to be unsure of herself. Now that Margot could see her clearly, it was plain that this girl was no older than herself. Young and lovely, with smooth brown hair, large clear eyes and the limbs of a colt.
The maid following patiently behind her spoke of a family rich enough to make sure there was money in her pocket for frivolity.
Margot forced another, even brighter smile through the glass, holding her breath. Go, Margot willed silently. Or come, if you must. But do not linger in the street, staring at me. You will embarrass us both.
The girl smiled as well. She hesitated for a moment longer, then made her decision and reached for the shop door, giving it a sharp pull. The brass bell clanked and she looked up in alarm, as though fearing she’d caused an affront.
‘Welcome,’ Margot said softly. ‘May I be of assistance?’
‘Are you Lady Fanworth?’ the girl asked hopefully.
Margot took care to hide the chagrin at hearing the unfamiliar title. Then she offered a brief nod.
‘I attempted to call on you at home, but they told me that you would be here.’ She pulled a card case from her reticule and searched around her for some servant who she might hand it to. Then she put it away again, still torn between etiquette and the simpler rules that should preside here. ‘I am Louisa,’ she said. When the name had no effect, she added, ‘Standish. Fanworth’s sister.’
Of course. It was why they had been so well suited, when they had stood on the street together. And why he had talked easily and laughed with her.
But it did not explain why he’d said nothing of the meeting. And why had she not come to the wedding if she had been here in Bath, all along? The hurt came back, fresh and sharp.
She swallowed it and put on her most neutral smile. Louisa Standish was here, now. The least Margot could do was pretend that it was a normal meeting. ‘Come in Lady Louisa. Please. Sit down with me. Perhaps a glass of lemonade, or perhaps a ratafia, in the back salon.’
Lady Louisa gave her a hopeful smile. ‘You have the time?’
‘For you? For family?’ Margot added, the words thick on her tongue. ‘Of course.’ She held back the drapery and escorted the girl to the same chaise that her brother had so often enjoyed, and snapped her fingers to an idle clerk, indicating that refreshments must be brought.
Then she stared at Lady Louisa for a moment, trying to clear the haze from her brain. What was she to make of this visit? It was too late for the girl to upbraid her for angling after a man so far above her station. But there was nothing in her manner that suggested that was the reason for the visit. Still, it was strange that their first meeting was here and not in the Abbey.
Louisa looked at her with an equally dazed expression. ‘We are all very curious about the new member of the family, but rather at a loss as to how to proceed,’ she said, with the shyest of smiles. ‘Well, Mother is. She very much wants to meet you. But without my brother’s permission, she cannot. And, of course, he will not give that.’ She gave a little shake of her head, to indicate that there was nothing to be done with some people. ‘In my opinion, Fanworth can hardly be blamed for any of it. But, since they have all but forgotten about me, I decided to take matters into my own hands.’ She extended her hands outward in a gesture that said, ‘Here we are’.
‘Blamed for any of what?’ Margot gave up trying to pretend that any of it made sense to her.
‘Why, not inviting the family to your wedding,’ she said, as though it must be totally apparent.
Margot sniffed. ‘I understand that your family is probably mortified. But if he was so embarrassed by me, he really needn’t have bothered with the wedding.’
Louisa’s eyes grew wide. ‘Is that what you thought? Oh, dear.’ She shook her head. ‘And he allowed you to labour under this misapprehension.’ She shook her head again. ‘Stephen is my favourite brother, Lady Fanworth. In fact, he is my favourite person in the entire world. But you must have noticed how stubborn he is and how proud.’
‘It is why he does not speak,’ Margot agreed.
‘I had hoped he would, at least, speak to the woman he chose to marry.’
He had. Once. What could she tell her husband’s sister that did not make it sound as if she did not know the man at all? For she was beginning to think, perhaps she didn’t. ‘It was all very rushed,’ she said, striking a path between explanation and apology. ‘And certainly not the wedding that either of us expected to have.’ She glanced around the shop, angry that they might expect her to be ashamed of all that she had accomplished. ‘But I am sure I am not the woman that Lord Fanworth expected to present to his family.’
‘On the contrary,’ Louisa insisted. ‘He spoke most highly of you and was eager for us to meet, even though he did not wish me to attend the wedding. He extolled your beauty, your wit and your talent. He said we would get on famously, once he had found a way to introduce us.’ She smiled. ‘It was a great relief to know that his heart was engaged. I have never seen him so effusive.’
‘He was effusive?’ It explained the animated conversation she had witnessed in the street. But it had never occurred to her that she might have been the topic discussed. It was even more surprising that he had been numbering her many good qualities. Given that, it made no sense that he should prohibit his sister from attending, if he was so very fond of the pair of them. ‘I am afraid I still do not understand. If I am such a catch, then why did you not at least take breakfast with us yesterday?’
Lady Louisa gave her a sad smile. ‘It is simple. He is not ashamed of you, Lady Fanworth. He is ashamed of us.’
‘Of you?’
‘Well not me, perhaps,’ Louisa admitted. ‘We really do get along brilliantly. But I could not come without Mother. Mother would have insisted that Father be invited, before she was willing to attend. She still hopes there is a way to mend this breach between the duke and his heir.’ Louisa shook her head as though contemplating the impossible.
‘My husband does not get on with his father? If anything, society seems to think they are two of a kind.’
‘Heavens, no. They are both proud, of course. But that is because of Father’s continual reminders that the Larchmont title is one of the oldest and most respectable in Britain. Nothing must be done to embarrass the family.’ Louisa frowned. ‘Although he claims to want the best for his heir, he actually wants the best from him as well. Nothing less than perfection will do.’
‘And Stephen is not perfect,’ Margot said, hating even to mention a thing which did not really matter.
‘When Father is disappointed...’ Louisa gave her a tight, little smile ‘...it is best to just avoid him. Since he is frequently disappointed in Stephen, my brother refuses to have anything to do with him.’ She whispered the next, as though it were part of some shameful secret. ‘The stammering is really so much better than he used to be, now that they do not talk. When Stephen was at home, if he made even the smallest mistake, Father would badger him until he could not talk at all.’
It was a horrible story. But it explained why the church had stood empty on their wedding day. ‘So there could be no duchess without a duke, and no you without the duchess.’ She thought for a moment. ‘But I understand you have a second brother, as well?’
Louisa nodded. ‘At the moment, there is a disagreement of some kind between my brothers. Fanworth was adamant that he did not want to see Arthur at his wedding. And Arthur does not want to be seen by anyone until the bruises have fully healed.’
‘Bruises,’ Margot repeated, still confused.
‘Stephen struck him,’ Louisa said with a little giggle. ‘I think his nose is broken. And