“Return to Charlock” Prologue
28 December 1878
“Out at once!”
“Don’t make me, Papa!”
“This is your doing and I insist you see the damage firsthand.”
“I tried. I did everything you asked, please don’t make me face them.”
“Out now daughter, before the entire county sees me pull you out by your skirts!”
“Just being here is shaming.”
“As it should be. Clear out now!”
“Papa,” Josiah strode up next to his father. “Good news, the footman at the door advised me Lord Gentry is in attendance.”
“Brilliant. Thank you, son. He will be our next prospective suitor.”
“Suitor?” His daughter cried with a gasp “But, he must be 50!”
The sneer on her father’s face launched her to action. She did not doubt his threat on pulling her out of the carriage bottom first. Her delicate slippers peeked out from the slim-fitting muslin dress purchased for this very occasion. Her slender hands gripped the side of the carriage when they should’ve gripped the steady hand of a man’s upon descent. Any man. Yet her father and brother whispered off to the side. No doubt conspiring.
“Take her by the arm Josiah. We will present her to Gentry after the ceremony.”
Her cheeks fluctuated from pink to pale. Her mind in a frenzy. She approached the arched entry of Charlock Manor with dark hesitation. The last time she was here, she was positioned to be the matron of the house, now she would be entering as the discarded fiancé of the groom. Her jaw grew rigid, anger boiled beneath her skin. I wish I had the strength to say no . . . to run far away from here.
She glanced behind. Her father’s twisted face of disappointment and disgust met her fully. Once inside, she paused before the grand staircase. Her sights floated to the portrait at the landing. Though she never loved Merritt, he was kind to her—something she couldn’t guarantee would happen with Lord Gentry. They had never met formally, but the man’s reputation of treating his dogs better than his women had reached her ears more than once. As sounds of revelry and laughter came from the ballroom, the young woman whispered a quiet thank you to God for putting a stubborn cow in front of their carriage en route. Being late had been a tender mercy.
“Bloody Hell.” Her father cursed. “This will not fair well.”
Her stomach tossed. Placing a gloved hand over her mouth she felt the contents of her earlier meal rise unsettled and threaten to erupt. “I’m feeling out of sorts. Excuse me for a moment.” To the dissent of her party, she rushed down the hall.
“Don’t linger long, we need to pay our respects.” Her father’s gruff voice followed her through the darkness.
Slipping into the library, she found it to be empty and sighed with relief. She retrieved a handkerchief from her reticule and wiped her moist brow. Taking a long breath, she let her head drop to her hands. Her thoughts went to her circumstances. Her options were bleak. If only she had the strength to leave six months ago, none of this would have happened. She shivered at the memory. The memory of a man whose strong arms surrounded her, comforted her and promised her. She should have left when he asked. Now, now she’s a pawn in a wicked game.
Heavy steps and voices neared the room. she fled farther into the darkness. A small alcove provided hidden shadows and shrouded her presence. Pressing her body against one door, she listened for the anxious voices of those who entered.
“Margaret, are you in here?” Josiah’s familiar tone sliced the blackness.
“Blast that daughter of mine,” Papa cried without a care for his volume. “If she weren’t so favorable, I would’ve cast her off years ago.”
She gasped in the shadows. She knew her father didn’t love her, but to hear him speak of her as if she were a commodity, cut her to the bone. The clink of glass told her they were helping themselves to the fine liquor the Gilford’s kept on the library sideboard.
“Simple mockery, Papa. Look around, we could’ve had all of this.”
“Aye,” Father gulped his drink in loud satisfaction. “With the Missus passing and the man in mourning, his money would’ve been an easy target. After all that work getting Margaret placed well, only to watch it pad someone else’s pouch, irks the devil out of me.”
“If it weren’t for that bloody governess,” Josiah grumbled. “Sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. Said through natter, she got Merritt to reconsider.”
“Of no importance now. On to better days.” The glasses clinked together. “Lord Gentry will be pleased enough with her. Him and his 10,000 pounds a year will please us all.”
Margaret felt faint. Had her entire life been positioned only for their benefit? Did they ever once consider her happiness?
They chuckled in their dark designs.
“What about the other problem, has it been taken care of?” Her Papa muttered.
“Jacob?”
“Shhh. Don’t mention his name ever again.”
Margaret held her breath. Jacob? The mere mention of his name prickled her skin. She leaned forward to grasp what followed.
“He’ll be taken care of, I sent Harker this time. He won’t be returning anymore., Josiah announced with satisfaction dripping from his voice. “You got to hand it to him though, he never gave up. Always believed he had a chance.”
“Well no daughter of mine would ever marry a tradesman, that’s for sure.”
“To the future Lady Gentry.” Another clink and swallow.
“Damn that girl, where is she off to?”
Taking a step backward, Margaret wished to stay hidden, only to find her shoe slip clumsily down a step. She clawed at the frame of the door for stability but made no connection. With a helpless cry, she launched into a full free fall down a stone set of cellar stairs.
***Release date Spring 2021***