Page 39 of Marriage Most Scandalous
“Perhaps I phrased it wrong, but no. He got out of bed, twisted his foot, and fell to the side. Scraped his back up pretty good on the bed frame. And his ankle was sprained for a couple weeks. He blamed it on the rug by his bed, that it was bunched up and he put his foot down on it wrong.”
“I see.”
That really did sound like only clumsiness on Douglas’s part. She simply couldn’t imagine anyone sneaking into his room to make a mess of his rug in the hopes he’d fall and hurt himself. That was far too far-fetched—or the plan of someone who wasn’t quite right in the head anymore.
With Douglas absent, Margaret rearranged the seating so that they were all seated together at Abigail’s end of the table.
Sebastian seemed to be on his best behavior, no doubt for Abigail’s sake. But what a contrast! He wasn’t pulling out any long-bladed daggers here as he’d done at her dining table. No indeed. Here he looked every bit the aristocrat, at ease, and so bloody handsome it really was hard to keep her eyes off of him.
But for a family reunion, he did more asking than answering, despite everyone’s avid curiosity about what he’d been up to these last eleven years. It was amazing how he could speak of his life in Europe and reveal only a little of what he’d done there. The man was as inscrutable as his expression usually was. She’d been hoping she’d learn a thing or two about him, but in fact she probably knew more about him now than his family did.
But while he said little of consequence about himself, he listened raptly to every word his brother and grandmother said. And he watched them and the servants keenly. Margaret reminded herself that he was just doing the job she’d hired him to do, trying to figure out who wanted Douglas dead. Though the odd link in the chain hadn’t made an appearance yet. It was certainly going to be interesting to see what transpired when Juliette returned home— and when Douglas woke up.
Chapter 21
ABIGAIL RETIRED SHORTLY AFTER DINNER.Sebastian disappeared as well, Margaret hoped to do the job she was paying him for, well,would bepaying him for. Finding herself alone after Dr. Culden’s second visit, which left her with no better news about Douglas’s condition, Margaret chose to retire early as well.
It had been quite an eventful day, much more taxing than she’d expected. Trying to juggle the truth with the lies she and Sebastian had concocted in order to carry out their performance without making any mistakes had exhausted her mentally, if not physically.
A hot steamy bath was in order! Edna arranged it before she retired to the room she and Oliver had been given in the servants quarters. Edgewood had plumbing, but like White Oaks and most households, the pipes didn’t reach the upper floors, so water still had to be heated in the kitchen and carried upstairs. Margaret’s room did have a small separate room for bathing, or bathroom, as it was gaining popularity in being called, with a nice porcelain tub, which she put to good use that night.
She was just about to nod off, she was so comfortable in the tub, when she heard, “I was hoping you’d be asleep by now so we wouldn’t have to have this conversation.”
Her eyes flew open. She sank down as low as she could go in the tub to hide. She simply couldn’t believe that Sebastian was standing in her doorway and said so. “I don’t believe this!”
She hadn’t closed the door. She hadn’t needed to, since the bedroom door was closed. No one should have entered without knocking, especially him.
“Did I forget to mention we’re sharing this room? You know, just like we’re married.” His tone was excessively dry, as if she’d forgotten their pretense.
“Not all married couples share bedrooms,” she replied tartly. “Surely you know that. And we fall into the it’s-not-going-to-happen category!”
He sighed. “As I said, I really was hoping this conversation could wait until morning, but if you insist—”
“Just leave, Sebastian. We can discuss this any time but now.”
“Well, no, it obviously must be now, since I’m not leaving.”
She poked her head over the rim of the tub just enough to see him. “What d’you mean you’re not leaving? We have enacted a pretense. That does not give you liberties that would otherwise be denied you. This is not going to work!”
“Be quiet, Maggie. It will work. If you’d put aside your maidenly modesty for a moment and just think about it, how better to keep any doubts about our marriage from arising than by our sleeping in the same room, with the whole household aware of it?”
“This is not going to work!”
“Be quiet, Maggie,” he said again. “Separate bedrooms would be fine at your house, not that I would allow them if we were really married, of course—”
“Allow?!” she cut in.
“But everyone here knows we’re just guests for the duration,” he continued, ignoring her outrage, “that we have no intention of staying long—except my father, who isn’t even aware yet that I’m here.”
Margaret wasn’t going to discuss that either at the moment. She could see his golden gaze trying to make out her shape beneath the bathwater. “For the last time, get out of my bathroom! If we must discuss the sleeping arrangements now, you will kindly let me finish my bath first.”
“Kindly?” He started to laugh. “Don’t believe I’m capable of that anymore, Maggie. But if it will expedite this discussion—” He turned to leave, then turned back again, his intense golden eyes meeting hers. “You have magnificent breasts, Maggie.”
Before she could scream, he closed the door, with himself on the other side of it. Margaret spared a moment to make sure it was going to stay closed, then flew out of the tub. She didn’t waste time drying off. She wanted her body covered right away. The pink robe would have to suffice, since she’d left her clothes in the bedroom.
With her robe belted tightly around her waist, she was still somewhat trembling from her outrage. She leaned against the door for a moment, took several deep breaths. He was impossible. How could he make that remark about her breasts? She didn’t know how to deal with a man who did and said whatever he pleased. He’d lived alone too long, she feared, away from polite society. He’d forgotten how to behave around a lady. Or he simply didn’t care. That was more likely.
She wasn’t actually calm yet, but her heart had stopped pounding, so she took one more deep breath and opened the door. She was hoping, she really was, that he’d dredged up some semblance of decency and wouldn’t be waiting for her in her bedroom to finish a discussion that they shouldn’tevenbe having in the first place. It was a foolish hope.
