She thanked him and passed on. But had she seen the scowl of rage and hate that distorted the viscount’s features, my lady would never have tolerated him even as an acquaintance again.
Elaine’s first step was to send a servant in quest of Margaret Nugent. The Nugents, mother and daughter, lived on the outskirts of Ashbourne, and within two miles of Seabright Hall. Mrs. Nugent was not a wealthy woman, but she and her handsome daughter were in comfortable circumstances.
“Nina,” Lady Elaine said to her maid, “I want you to go to The Ferns, Mrs. Nugent’s place, and to ask Miss Margaret to come to the Hall at once.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“You will be sure to impress upon Miss Nugent the urgency of losing no time, Nina. And, Nina, you may use the pony carriage if you do not care for the walk.”
“Yes, my lady. Thank you.”
The maid withdrew, and secure in the privacy of her own apartments, Lady Elaine prepared to write one of the sweetest letters she had ever written to the man she loved.
“My dear love!” she murmured. “I feel that I have misjudged you. I will never bother you again with my silly caprices. Oh, how bright and beautiful the world seems, now that my king will soon be with me again!”
She drew before her a pearl-enameled writing desk, and, having opened it, penned the following:
My Darling Harold—Can you ever forgive me for being so cruel to you? I have myself suffered agonies that words cannot paint. Come back to me, my love! I will confess that I detest Viscount Rivington, and promise you that in future your wishes shall be my law. My pride is humbled to the dust, and you will never be jealous of me again. I can write no more; only come to me! Forever your own.