Marguerite had learned early in life that things didn't always turn out the way she wanted them to, but none of her past disappointments could come close to this. During the first thirty minutes, she was still too euphoric to worry about Matthew's delayed arrival. When more than an hour had passed, she started to grow disheartened, still she believed he would eventually come. He must be unavoidably detained at the party, and she could understand that. So she kept telling herself that all her patience would pay off when she watched him getting down on one knee to propose to her. She remained on her seat and refused when the servant offered to serve her some light refreshments, waiting patiently until her hope faded away with every ticking minute. When the clock down the hall struck twelve and still no signs of him coming, Marguerite decided she wouldn't wait any longer. With all the dignity she could muster, she rang for the servants and ordered them to put away the untouched food bef

Sometime later, Wagner's skeptical remarks about his feelings towards Arabella still lingered in his mind when Matthew stood in front of Marguerite's bedchamber. He'd bathed and changed into casual clothing before coming upstairs, feeling refreshed and ready to tell Maggie about everything."Come in." At the sound of Marguerite's voice, Matthew felt his resolve weaken a bit, but he steeled himself and turned the knob.Across the room, Marguerite sat with her back to him, her head bent over the table. She must be working on one of her flower sketches, he guessed by the scribbling sound she made."I'm not hungry yet, Mary." Marguerite said without turning, apparently mistaken him for her maid.At the familiar sight, suddenly an odd feeling settled over him, like a tinge of sadness. At the moment, it just occurred to him that his reunion with Bella would change everything between them. More or less, it meant at some point he and Maggie would be parting, going on their own separate live

After spending nearly an hour thinking of some way to make Matthew feel better, Marguerite decided to make one of his favorite foods, chicken soup. He always ate heartily whenever she served him that simple dish and she remembered he once told her that her soup tasted like his late mother's. Cook seemed surprised when Marguerite appeared in the kitchen door, but much to her relief, the woman refrained from asking her about last night and busied herself with helping her prepare the ingredients. The minced onion began to sizzle in the saucepan when Cook stepped over to hand out a pot of broth to Marguerite."Thank you." Marguerite murmured, continuously stirring it to prevent burning. Once the onion turned to brown and released its delightful flavor, she poured the liquid into the pan. "Oh, it smells heavenly." Cook commented when the simmering soup filled the kitchen with delicious aroma."This is for Matthew." Marguerite smiled fondly as she mentioned the name."I suppose he is sti

Dear readers,sorry for the late update. I found it hard to juggle with writing and children, but I'll do my best to deliver my story for you. Hope you enjoy it and feel free to let me know what you think about the story and the characters. I'll really appreciate that.Marguerite wandered back to her suite in a state of utter dejection. At first all she could think of was; how could she overlook the signs? But there really weren't any signs at all. How was she supposed to know when nothing had gone wrong? Matthew had changed drastically in the space of two days. How could it be possible? Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, she recalled what Wagner said to her.Matthew isn't the sort who dallies with celebrities. It must have been Mannheim who pimped the actress out to him.At the thought, Marguerite felt her insides simmering with rage and contempt for the rogue. He'd corrupted her Matthew, and now the man she loved had fallen into debauchery just like all other society rakes. Although,

Marguerite's gaze fixed on the passing building outside as the carriage rolled into the night. Across from her, Mary watched her in silence, waiting for some explanation for this outrageous venture. When five minutes had passed and Marguerite hadn't uttered a single word, the maid brought herself to ask,"What are we doing, Miss?" Marguerite remained silent as she couldn't seem to reason out her impulsive action. She only knew that if she just sat idly by at home, the tormenting ordeal of not knowing what really happened would drive her mad. Looking at Marguerite with a pitiful eyes, Mary carefully said,"Not to presume, Miss, I understand what you're feeling now and I'm sorry this happened to you, but this is pointless, and it will only hurt you more."Marguerite bit her lip. Perhaps her maid was right, this was a pointless thing to do, but instead of being tortured by endless suspicion and doubt, she preferred to learn the truth with her own eyes, no matter how ugly it might be. On