My Maggie,

XXX

Marina is pregnant. Pregnant. She's Pregnant. That sentence played on a loop in Margrets head as she sat beside her best friend in Madame Loufeees patisserie. Staring ahead as she watched the ripples of her tea as Ophelia smacked her hand against the lace clothed table.
"Pregnant? How? When?"
"I'm not sure but I overhead Eloise tell Penelope this morning!" Matilda exclaimed.
"Well,"  Ophelia exclaimed, "Colin must have been eager."
Both of the girls chuckled amongst each other, not even noticing the small tear fall from the younger Nighthowers girl face.
"Excuse me for a moment." She said sliding her chair, the sound against the hard oak floor rippling through the small French cafe.
"Are you ok sister?"
"Of course i am," Margret said slightly to fast, "just need some air, I'm a bit warm from that news." She said putting on her best show of trying to engage in the gossip.

The second she left the warm cafe the frosted air nipped at her face. Wrapping the small shoulder knit wrap tighter around her petite form she began to walk further and further down the street, away from her friends.
She walked down the Thames, through Covent Garden, past the palace, she walked until she could no longer feel her legs against the cold mid day air. The news on repeat in her mind. She's pregnant. How long had they been together before their engagement, at least a month, probably longer. The entire time. The stolen glances, the slight touches, all meant nothing, cause while she went home and thought of him, he went to her house, locked the door, and did everything Margret had dreamed he would do to her.

She couldn't walk back to the patisserie, couldn't sit there and engage in gossip about the boy she had come to love. Especially considering it wasn't her business. She was to marry James. Quietly creeping up the stairs and disappearing behind the oak door she sat on the small green chair next to the window. It was raining now. She sat watching the raindrops glide down her window pain, racing against one another. Her eyes mirroring the action as her tears danced down her face and dripping from her chin onto her dark green day dress, a blanket acting as a barrier between the tears and the delicate fabric. She watched as the sun began to disappear under the Bridgerton house, watched as the stars began to light up the sky, the moon shining as strong as the sun. Not once did the rain stop, not once did her tears stop falling.

So transposed on the sound of the raindrops she didn't hear the slight creak of the door as Ophelia fluttered in. She silently sat beside her sister a handkerchief in hand as she fiddled with the ends.

"You love him don't you?"

The question lingered in the air, but the silence answered for Margret, it was obvious. How could i be so blind, Ophelia had thought to herself. She delicately placed the silk into her siblings hand. The small action sending the younger Nighthower girl into more sobs. In a instant Ophelia wrapped her arm around the girl, Margret curling into her like a cat would into a cushion on a cold night. They sat like that for hours, not once moving, no words exchanged, just staring at the raindrops racing down the window with the sound of the raindrops hitting the roof and the quiet sobs of a girl who's life was slowly crumbling, all because she loved a man who loved another.