Page 17 of Marriage Most Scandalous
“How astute of you. But I wasn’t involved for very long, just toward the end, when they forced Napoleon’s brother Joseph to flee from Madrid. And I wasn’t in France when Napoleon marched across it in 1815, gathering his last army, after his abdication. I had several jobs in Italy that year, didn’t even hear about his last effort to regain his throne until he was exiled again. But to answer your question, I bought those ruins only four years ago, after his exile, so no, I haven’t experienced any difficulty making my home in France.”
“You actually call that pile of stones a home?”
“Slip of the tongue, Lady Margaret. You’re right. It’s no more than a convenient place where I can be contacted. As it happens, I’m not there often, and rarely at this time of the year. If I hadn’t had a delivery to make near there, I probably would have been on my way to Italy by now.”
“How fortunate for me that—”
“And unfortunate for me,” he cut in. “Now to the matter at hand. I’ve been away from Kent for eleven years. I need to know what has occurred during that time. Any changes I should be aware of?”
Her look was annoyed for a moment over that ‘unfortunate’ remark, but then she briefly ignored him while she gave the question some thought. Even in the full afternoon light, her eyes were still so dark, the brown in them was barely noticeable. She was still gripping most of her hair to contain it, but a few shorter strands kept floating across her cheek. He wondered if she’d notice if he pushed them behind her ear. Possibly not, she was so deep in thought, but he restrained himself.
She was charming in her dishevelment. Not many women were, but with Margaret, it made her seem more—accessible. She was too pretty by half, actually. And she wasn’t even trying to be attractive, far from it. It really did seem as if she couldn’t care less how she was perceived, which was quite odd for a woman. Or perhaps she just felt that way when she was around him. Disliking him, she wouldn’t put any effort into attracting him, he was sure.
He found her attitude unique. Never before had a woman hated him. He was almost tempted to win her over—not bloody likely.
She finally said, “Aside from the assorted deaths and births in the neighborhood—”
“My grandmother?” he cut in with dread.
“No, no, Abigail is just fine—or was, before I left for the Continent. But she’s quite batty now, you know.”
“Nonsense—”
“No, really. Her eyesight isn’t so good, which might be why she sees things that aren’t there. During my time at Edgewood, she was forever finding me to tell me we had intruders in the house, and whispering it, afraid they’d hear her when there was never anyone there.”
He actually smiled at the picture that conjured. “Very well, so she’s a little batty. She is eighty-seven now, after all. I’d say she’s allowed.”
Margaret said nothing for a moment, was staring at his lips, which he found quite disconcerting. The smile vanished before he was even aware he’d smiled. Her lips twisted in a moue of mild annoyance before she continued.
“I’m extremely fond of the old bird, but it took me a while to get into her good graces.”
“Impossible. She’s the sweetest—”
“Not anymore,” Margaret cut in. “She took your side, you know. In fact, she hasn’t spoken a single word to her son since he disowned you. If she needs to communicate with him a’tall, she sends someone else to do it.”
Sebastian was incredulous. He’d never guessed that his father and grandmother would have a falling-out after the duel. They’d always been in accord, agreeing on everything—two minds thinking as one, as it were. More guilt to take to his breast, as if he didn’t have enough.
“But as I was saying,” Margaret continued again, “Abbie wasn’t easy to win over, especially after Douglas gave his conservatory into my care when he learned how much I love to garden. He was trying to assist me out of my mourning, but Abbie didn’t see it that way. The conservatory had been her domain, as far as she was concerned, so she felt I was invading her territory. She was quite cantankerous and argumentative about it. But it wasn’t too long before she was in there giving me advice instead of snapping at me that I was doing everything wrong. It’s a shame she gets so maudlin, though. It’s why I still visit so frequently, to cheer her up.”
“Maudlin over what?”
“Can’t you guess? She misses you. And, deep down, I suspect she’s distressed at being so furious with her own son that she refuses to talk to him. She is concerned about his accidents, though she won’t let on to him that she is. But she hinted more’n once that you could easily get to the bottom of what’s going on and put a stop to it, which convinced me to find you. Then there’s Cecil and her complaints that he doesn’t visit anymore. He was like a son to her as well, I gather.”
“He died?”
She gave him a sour look. “Must you assume that everyone died? No, he’s quite well, as far as I know. But he and your father have been estranged since the duel, so he no longer comes to Edge-wood.”
Sebastian was stricken. Good God, even more guilt to add to his plate.
“She was very fond of him, I think,” Margaret added. “But then I’d heard Cecil was more often at Edgewood than his own home when he was a child. And his own mother had died, so he took to Abbie and she to him. At least, that’s my take on it, from the things she’s said.”
Sebastian sighed. “The door to Edgewood is probably going to be barred to me. My father stated clearly enough that I was no longer welcome there.”
“That will pose a problem,” she agreed, frowning. “Are you sure you can’t reconcile with Douglas?”
“Quite. I wasn’t aware the duel estranged him from Cecil till you just mentioned it. It was because of Cecil and my father’s regard for him that I was given the boot, as it were. The estrangement that followed after I left would only have made my father more furious with me.”
“Or made him come to his senses and realize who was more important,” she suggested.
