Despite all of his years working as a groom, Michael still took a certain solace in being around horses. He paused as he walked toward the stables to watch the horses grazing in the green pasture. Heads down, nibbling at the grass, they looked so calm and content. Michael sighed—oh, to be a horse. To not have to deal with the issues of being a human. To not have to worry about money, and society, and love… Michael sighed once again, shaking his head as if to shoo away his daydream, and continued walking toward the barn.
The familiar pungent smell of hay and horse sweat greeted his nostrils as he approached the stalls. He considered it a good thing that there was always so much work to be done around the barn. It kept his mind off troubling matters around the manor. He opened the creaky door to the tack room, where he was suddenly greeted by an unexpected sight.
“Lila! What are you doing here?”
Lila didn’t move from her sitting spot on top of an old tack box. She raised her head slowly to meet Michael’s eyes. “I have a plan,” she said in a more serious tone than Michael had ever heard her use before.
“A plan?” he asked as he entered the small, dusty room. He now wondered how much Lila knew, and how much she had pieced together after overhearing him and Maggie the night of the duke’s ball. Suddenly self-conscious, he strode forth and picked up a saddle off one of the racks, bracing it against his hip as he searched the line of bridles hung up on the wall to find the corresponding one.
Lila jumped up from her seat, shedding her air of contemplation and donning one of action. Snatching an equally grimy brown leather bridle off of the wall, she held it out for Michael. He paused before taking it, hand outstretched, yet hesitant to take it from her, as if there would be some unforeseen catch if he were to do so.
“What, may I ask, is this epic plan regarding?” he asked slowly, hand still wavering in the air.
Lila plopped the dusty bridle into his open hand. “You and Maggie. I have a way for you two to be together.”
His expression changed from one of tentative interest to one of exasperation. Exhaling loudly and spinning on his heel toward the door, he took a step forward but was blocked by a quick-moving Lila. She stood in the door frame, arms braced against the wood, making it clear she wouldn’t let him through until he heard her out.
“You shouldn’t be involved in this, Lila,” he said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s my sister. And she loves you. The real kind of love that doesn’t go away when it’s no longer fun. Besides, my plan is quite good!” Lila insisted, shifting slightly to the left as Michael tried to duck under her arm. Blocking him, she added, “You knew the old version of my sister. She was adventurous, wild, and reckless. Someone like that doesn’t just change.”
Michael stepped back, his eyes squaring up Lila. “Whatever this plan is of yours, how do you know Maggie will go for it?”
“Haven’t you been listening? Because she loves you,” Lila said simply, allowing her arms to drop from the door frame. Michael brushed past her and into the barn aisle. Lila scurried after him. “I know my sister. What’s more, I know I can convince my sister to go along with this plan. But you have to be willing to do it.”
Michael tossed the saddle and bridle down upon the aisle floor, a small cloud of dust rising in the air as he did. “And what, pray tell, is this ingenious plan of yours?” He was growing frustrated with being reminded of the unfortunate situation he was in. It had taken so much for him to finally give up hope. The notion that he and Maggie could someday be together just brought up feelings of bitter pain now. And here Lila was, bothering him about it.
“You’re just going to have to trust me.” Lila insisted, sincerity in her voice.
“Why? Why should I just trust you?” Michael asked, spitting the word “trust” out like it tasted bad. “I’ve been through enough. Don’t go getting my hopes up for a plan that will just fall apart.”
“Because this is your final chance to do something to save you and Maggie. The only thing you have to do is trust me,” Lila pleaded, reaching forward and grasping his hand to drive home her point. “Just trust me,” she whispered, staring pleadingly into his eyes.
Michael stared back, arms crossed. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a cough with a decided point to it, clear someone was making his or her entrance known. Whirling around, the pair’s eyes landed upon Wesley.
“Sorry. Was I… interrupting something?” Wesley asked, eyes drifting from Lila to Michael and back again. Michael let out a loud, short laugh, removing his hand from Lila’s grasp.
“Not at all. Lila was just leaving, weren’t you, Lila?” Michael asked, tilting his head at her.
Lila gave one last imploring look at Michael, hoping to make her point clear without words. “Yes. I was just leaving, indeed. Michael,” she said, addressing him head-on, “I will be seeing you later.”
Giving no reply, Michael directed his attention to Wesley as Lila strode stiffly out of the barn. Wesley toyed with a piece of broken wood that was hanging from one of the stall doors. With his shoulders slumped forward and a distant look in his eyes, Michael wondered what was wrong with him.
“M’lord?” asked Michael softly as he stepped closer to the distracted-looking man.
Wesley jumped at the sound of Michael’s voice. Startled, he said, “Oh! Yes. Uhm… please get my horse ready for me. I think I should like to go for a ride. A distraction would be marvelous about now.”
Michael nodded. “Right away, m’lord.”
Therese’s shoes clacked softly against the cold tile floor. Her breath was shallow as her nerves drew tense for the conversation that was about to occur. Now that Wesley knew the truth, she couldn’t stay here. Once Wesley confronted his… their father, she would be out on the streets. Which meant Therese had to talk to Lord Darlington before Wesley did. It was the only way.
She drew in a deep, steadying breath as she raised her fist to knock upon Lord Darlington’s study door. Exhaling, she gave three short raps upon the dark mahogany. Therese winced slightly as the noise reverberated throughout the large hallway. There was a long pause and no one answered. Lord Darlington is always in his study at this time…, she mused. Biting her lower lip, she raised a tentative fist to the door again, drew back her wrist, and prepared for another knock.
A muffled, but angry-sounding, voice came from within. “Yes, come in, who is it?”
Jumping slightly at the sound of his voice, Therese opened the door with a gulp.
“Lord Darlington?” asked Therese timidly, trying to muster bravado as she entered his study.
“Clearly, it is. Who else would it be?” Lord Darlington responded flatly, cold eyes boring into hers.
Therese, taken aback by his rudeness, fumbled to find the right words. Her eyes darted about the dusty study. Bookshelves lined the walls and there was a crackling fire to his right. Shadows were cast against the walls and they danced and played with the fire’s motion. The windows were covered with dark, crimson velvet drapes. Lord Darlington sat in a high-backed chair behind a desk that was covered in files and papers.
“Well, out with it, girl!” Lord Darlington snapped. “I haven’t all day to stare at you staring at me.”
Therese nodded her head firmly, choosing to be blunt. “I would like to leave Wentworth Hall,” she said, trying to sound as decisive as possible.
“Well, then, thank you for your time and ask one of the maids to help you with your belongings on your way out,” Lord Darlington replied, lowering his gaze back to the papers on his desk, gathering and hitting a stack back into organized submission with a firm thump.
“I will leave as soon as I receive enough money to set myself up in my own establishment in London,” Therese said, gaining confidence.
Not raising his eyes from the desk, Lord Darlington arched a single eyebrow. “I’m sorry to inform you that cannot be arranged at this time.” He lifted his eyes from his paper. “Good day and have a safe trip back to Paris.”
“I’m not leaving until I receive my proper sum. If you do not comply, I will tell Lady Darlington the truth about my mother.”
Lord Darlington slowly raised his eyes to meet with Therese’s. His look was a combination of fury, belittling amusement, and confusion. Therese instinctively took a step backward.
“Is that so?” he asked, rising from his desk and standing up straight at full height. With his starched and pressed appearance and stern mannerisms, he was very intimidating.
Therese resisted the urge to shrink backward any farther. She was tempted to run from the room, but knew what had to be done was imperative to her livelihood. Knowing this would likely be the last time she ever saw him, Therese had to ask, “How could you turn your back on your own child?”
Lord Darlington had no response, but a look of shame crossed his features for the briefest moment.
“When I came to you to explain who I was, I did not ask for money. Or a title. I only wanted a father.”
“How was I to know your mother was telling the truth?” Lord Darlington bellowed. “Many high-born men have been fooled.”
“I am standing before you now. Do you not see a resemblance? Can you be so hard-hearted?”
“This from a girl who is trying to extort from me? No, you could never be a Darlington. Our behavior would never be so low.”
Therese felt ice start to flow through her veins. She hated him. He was so in love with his status he couldn’t see beyond it. Well, soon the Darlington name would be in complete disrepute. Even the Darlingtons wouldn’t want the Darlington name.
Nodding, she said, “Sir, if you do not do as I ask, I will be forced to inform her of your rather unbecoming behavior.”
Lord Darlington studied her for a moment, as if considering how to handle the situation. Finally a strange smile broke over his face. “Go ahead. Do it,” he sniffed, appearing suddenly disinterested. “It’s not uncommon for a lord to have illegitimate children. My lady would forgive me. After all, it was almost two decades ago. Old news.”
Therese was taken aback. She didn’t expect him to say such things… to be so certain. Straightening her back and squaring her shoulders, she shot back, “Fine. She may forgive you. But will society when I tell the newspapers an even better bit of information?” Eyes ablaze, she locked gazes with Lord Darlington, hoping to convey that she would not back down.
“And what information would that be?” he countered, folding his arms over his chest.
Therese paused, unsure if she should divulge this secret. Decisively, she shot back, “That baby James isn’t your son… but your grandson. He belongs to none other than your daughter Maggie. Oh, yes,” Therese continued on, seeing she now had the upper hand due to Lord Darlington’s inability to mask his shock, “Your lady lied to you. She covered up for your daughter. Did you really think a woman of her age could bear a child? And didn’t you notice Maggie’s behavior after she came back from France? How she looked at that baby?”
Lord Darlington blinked a few times, studying Therese. “There is no way anyone would believe those lies.”
“Lies? Lies! The only person who is lying here is you to yourself. I do not speak lies about this matter. Plus, the newspapers will gleefully print this information. They do not care if it is true or not. They obviously haven’t cared what the truth was in the past. This will ruin you and you know it!” Therese stated, index finger jabbing the air in front of Lord Darlington’s chest, her own chest heaving up and down after her passionate monologue.
With a quick intake of breath, he raised his hand into the air. Flushed red with anger, his hand froze, quivering in midair. Chin held high, she winced, but held her ground, waiting for the coming blow. The tension in the air was palpable as a few heartbeats passed between them. Lowering his hand, Lord Darlington scowled at Therese, knowing she was correct.
He returned to his seat at the desk, face still red with fury. Tensely, he opened a locked drawer in his desk and began removing a few items.
“You will receive a sum of two hundred pounds. Half I have, and the rest will be paid in jewels, which you can hawk as you please once you are far and away from Wentworth. You are to leave now. Not in a few hours, not tomorrow morning, but now. There is a ferry leaving Southampton in a few hours and you are to be present for it,” he concluded, giving intent focus to the files upon his desk, refusing to look her in the eyes. “Gerald will personally escort you. Again, you are to have contact with no one and leave immediately. You will receive your money and jewels once my butler sees that you are properly on the ferry and never to come back or even breathe a word that you had worked here previously. Is that understood?”
Therese stifled a small squeak of triumph, holding a winning grin back with all of her might. She diverted her eyes toward her shoes, hoping to affect a demure and grateful appearance. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now get out of my study!” he finished with a snap, finally looking up at her.
“Yes, sir. Right away…” She exited toward the door, slipping out of the dark frame into the hallway. Before she shut the door, she ducked her head back in and added, “I mean, yes, father.” And with that, slammed the door behind her.