Was he trying to influence her by implying to his mother that there was a greater intimacy between them than there was?

But she had just allowed him to kiss her in Hyde Park, had she not? And it had not been just an innocent peck on the cheek or lips. Oh, goodness, his tongue had been inside her mouth.

Margaret lifted her cup to her lips and realized too late that her hand was shaking ever so slightly. "Margaret," Lady Carling said when they were alone. She sat with her hands clasped in her lap. She looked instantly different – more serious, less frivolous. "Tell me why you are spending time with my son. Tell me why you hesitate to marry him." Margaret drew a slow breath and set down her cup and saucer on the small table at her elbow. "I suppose that like most people," she said, "I rush to judgment when I meet a stranger. And there are many judgments to rush to in Lord Sheringford's case. He does not even deny that he did dreadful things five years ago. But I am also aware that no one is defined by one set of actions – especially when those actions are well in the past. I suppose I am curious. I want to know more about him. I want to know if I would be misjudging him by spurning his acquaintance. And we really did collide with each other at the ball, you know. And I really did – very rashly – introduce him to another gentleman as my betrothed simply because that gentleman was a suitor of mine many years ago and was being patronizing when he discovered me this year still unmarried at thirty years old. Because Lord Sheringford was in active search of a bride, he encouraged the lie and offered to make it the truth. Neither of us expected that Major Dew would mention what I had told him to a few of his friends, and that they would tell it to a few of theirs. I had told him that no one knew of the betrothal yet, including my own family." Lady Carling had listened to her without even trying to interrupt. "I daresay," she said, "Duncan hopes that if he marries well his grandfather will relent and restore Woodbine Park to him." Margaret looked sharply at her. She did not /know/? "The Marquess of Claverbrook has promised to do just that," she said, "provided Lord Sheringford is married to a lady of whom he approves before the Marquess's eightieth birthday. Otherwise he will grant possession of Woodbine Park to the next heir." "To Norman?" Lady Carling said. "Oh, dear. He is a very worthy young man. I was always fond of him. But he is the sort of man who has never put a foot wrong his whole life – just the sort of man who is despised and even hated by his less virtuous brothers and cousins. Duncan could never abide him. And yet he was good enough to marry Caroline Turner." "Yes," Margaret said. "But how like that cantankerous old man to play such games," Lady Carling said, bridling. "And when is his eightieth birthday, pray? I take it it must be soon." "In less than two weeks," Margaret said.

Lady Carling raised her eyebrows. "Poor Duncan," she said. "It would not be only the money, you know, though he must be desperate even for that. His funds have been completely cut, and he has refused to take anything from me. Men and their silly pride! But Woodbine Park was his childhood home. All his memories are there. It is true that he did not spend much time there from the age of eighteen or nineteen until he ran off with Mrs. Turner, but one does not expect a healthy, energetic young man to incarcerate himself in the country. He was busy sowing his wild oats, though I never heard that they were so very wild – merely normal for a man his age. He planned to settle in the country after he married Caroline Turner. And then he did something very impulsive and very foolish and is like to suffer for it the rest of his life." "When Lord Sheringford came to make me a formal offer yesterday afternoon," Margaret said, "I explained to him that I needed time to get to know him better, even if two weeks was all the time I could have in which to decide. I pointed out to him that it was unfair of me to ask for that time, since he would have no chance to find a different bride if my final answer is no. He has taken the risk and given me the time." Lady Carling looked at her silently for such a long while that Margaret began to feel uncomfortable. But she spoke at last. "I know something of you, Margaret," she said. "I know you lost your mother early and your father when you were still only a girl. I know that you took it upon yourself to hold your home together and raise your younger sisters and brother – even though at the time you did not know that your brother would inherit the Merton title and fortune and eventually make all your lives considerably easier. I daresay you feel for your siblings as a mother as well as a sister." "In some ways, yes, ma'am," Margaret agreed. "Most people see me as a careless, empty-headed creature," Lady Carling said. "And it is as I wish. Other people, especially men, are more easily manipulated that way. It might appear that I am incapable of deep feeling. But I have suffered during the past five years. I tell myself that I have suffered less than if Duncan had died, but sometimes it has been hard to convince myself. If he had died, he would be at peace even if I was not. He has lost everything, Margaret, for a foolish whim that could not be reversed even before Mrs. Turner died. He has lost his youth, his character and reputation, his home, his livelihood, his happiness, his peace. And I am his mother. I do not ask you to try to put yourself in my place. It is too painful a place to be." Margaret did not attempt a reply. "He was a happy, mischievous, active, very normal boy," Lady Carling continued. "He loved animals and championed every one he felt was being mistreated – as well as every servant and child in the village too. He suffered dreadfully when his father died so suddenly – we both did. But suffering is part of life for everyone and of course he recovered. He was carefree and wild and active and very normal as a young man. And then, as you yourself just put it, his life was defined for all time by one utterly foolish act. Why he did it I suppose I will never know, but he did it. And so in a sense his life ended. I doubt the past five years have been happy ones for him. His face is not that of a man who has been happy. He has aged at least ten years in the past five. He was a handsome boy. But perhaps, Margaret, his life can resume after all.

Perhaps it can be normal again, perhaps even happy. I like you. You are better than I could possibly have hoped." "But I may not marry him," Margaret protested.

Lady Carling smiled, though her eyes were suspiciously bright. "And you will go away from here," she said, "convinced that I have behaved unscrupulously and used emotional blackmail on you when I ought to have been entertaining you as any good hostess would do. And you would be quite right." Margaret smiled at the admission. "He has not spent every day of his life abandoning innocent young ladies and running off with married ones," Lady Carling said. "He did those things once, both on the same occasion. I make no excuse for him, Margaret – as you have observed, he makes none for himself. But he is thirty years old. Multiply those years by three hundred and sixty-five, and even if you ignore the leap years, that is a large number of days in which he has /not/ behaved in a dastardly manner. Find out about those days, Margaret. Find my son. Marry him if you can. Love him if you will.

And now, let me offer you another cup of tea and compliment you on the bonnet you were wearing when you stepped into the house. Where did you find such a pretty thing? I look and look and never see anything I really like – except on the heads of other ladies. Graham would be horrified to hear me say so as he complains loudly about all the bills for bonnets he is obliged to pay, but if I could just find one or two really pretty ones I would not have to keep buying plain or even downright ugly ones, would I?" "I bought a plain bonnet," Margaret explained, "and trimmed it myself." "Well, then, that does it," Lady Carling said. "I absolutely must have you for a daughter-in-law, Margaret, and will hear no argument to the contrary." They both laughed – just at the moment when the drawing room door opened to admit Lord Sheringford. "I have been pleading your case, Duncan," his mother said. "I have discovered that Margaret trims her own bonnets and that I simply must therefore have her for a daughter-in-law." "And I suppose, Mama," he said as Margaret got to her feet to take her leave, "that argument has weighed heavily with her. I suppose she is ready to permit me to place an announcement of our betrothal in tomorrow's papers." "Not at all, you foolish man," she said. "She will permit it when you have convinced her that marriage to you is the only thing that can possibly bring her real happiness for the rest of her life. Why else would a woman marry and become the possession of any male – just as if she were a thing? It is the reason why I married your papa and lived happily with him for almost twenty years. And it is the reason why I married Graham even if he /does/ appear to be Sir Gruff and Grim half the time." "Ah," he said as his mother got to her feet to hug Margaret again, "so I have your blessing to continue wooing her, do I, Mama? "Not my blessing, Duncan," she said, "but my maternal /command/.