Page 45 of Not a Fine Gentleman

The scullery maid held out her hand. “I’ll give it t’im.”

Margaret shook her head and hugged the paper. “My instructions ’r t’ give it t’im in person, aren’t they?”

“What is it, Molly?” said a male voice with the formal tones of a butler.

“Someone ’ere wif a message fer th’ master,” the scullery maid tossed over her shoulder.

Christian’s butler appeared. Margaret lowered her eyes and slouched a bit. “Private message fer Mr. Amesbury. I must give it t’ ’im in person.” She lowered her voice. “It’s ’bout ’is sister, Lady ’ennessy, it is.” Connor Jackson would be proud of how well she’d imitated the accent.

The butler’s stance changed. “Very well. I’ll show you to him.”

Margaret followed the butler through the kitchen, up the narrow stairs, and out into a foyer.

“Wait here,” said the butler. He made a sharp gesture to a footman who straightened and fixed his gaze on Margaret as if he expected her to attempt to steal valuables.

Margaret stood perfectly still, trying to affect the demeanor of a servant. Voices carried to her, the butler’s and a feminine reply. As they neared, their words became clear.

“—deliver it directly to him,” said the butler.

“I’ll speak to her,” a lady’s familiar voice came in reply.

Margaret almost fell to her knees in relief. It was Genevieve, her sister-in-law. How wonderful to hear a friendly voice!

With a swishing of skirts and the light tread of her sister-in-law’s steps, Christian’s wife entered. “You have news of Lady Hennessy?”

Margaret lifted her head and met her gaze.

Genevieve’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. “You’re back!”

She launched herself at Margaret and wrapped her up into a tight embrace. Margaret hugged her back, soaking in her sister-in-law’s affection.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Genevieve said with a shaking voice. Finally, she drew back. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you come to us sooner? We’ve been half sick with worry.”

“I was trying to get to Rachel’s cottage near the Scottish border.”

“Oh, Margaret. Tell me everything.” After telling the butler to send word to Cole and Alicia, she led Margaret to a sitting room.

“First, has Connor Jackson been here?”

“Yes, in fact, only moments ago. He thought you might have come here. What has happened? Wait, Christian and Rachel will want to hear, too. They will be here in a moment. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“I could do with a bit of refreshment,” Margaret said.

“Poor dear. You look exhausted as well.” Genevieve sat next to Margaret and took her hand. “I prayed for your safe return.” She shuddered in a breath and squeezed her fingers.

Christian entered, looking so much like her dear departed father that Margaret had to take a breath. Margaret stood and offered a wobbly smile.

“Thank heavens,” Christian breathed.

Close on his heels came Rachel. With a cry, her twin sister ran to Margaret and nearly knocked her over, her tearful greeting a mixture of anger and relief. Christian finally gave up trying to pry Rachel off Margaret so he could have a turn, and simply embraced them both. Wrapped in familial love, and especially that comforting bond she’d always shared with her twin, Margaret broke down. Days of fear, anger, and exhaustion finally tore down the hard veneer that had been holding her together since she had found Hennessy that horrible night.

If the killer had his way, she’d be next. Had she just endangered her family?

Christian pulled away first and handed her his handkerchief. “Cole, Jared, and Grant have been all over England looking for you. I stayed behind in case you came back. The Bow Street Runner I hired to find you said he was bringing you home, but you ran from him a few blocks away.”

Connor Jackson had been truthful, after all. A brief twinge of guilt flashed through her.

Margaret nodded. “I feared he might take me to Newgate instead, and I have little faith that the magistrate will listen to me. Everyone is convinced I’m a killer.”