A/N: New pairing! Have a little kick ass Margaret - she's related to Alice isn't she, there's got to be a little fire somewhere in her.
There's probably anachronisms in here but before you complain... the story it's from has a jabberwocky and a blue catepillar.
ENJOY!
At Alice's 'engagement party', Margaret had been a little confused, and more than a little suspicious of her sister's parting shot to her husband. But at the moment she was deeply in love with Lowell, in her first flush of romance, barely out of her honeymoon herself and chalked it up as one of Alice's peculiarities.
But in the months that had passed since Margaret had waved goodbye to Alice from the docks, her marriage had changed somewhat. Lowell was often vanishing from home, returning just before guests arrived so Margaret could not berate him in front of people. Mrs Manchester would never behave so badly and never flout the social etiquette that was so dear to her. Mr Manchester would then personally escort guests back in his carriage, waving off the task as a pleasure. He would then not return home until the next morning. He would not join Margaret in bed either.
At first this had made her cry and then it made her angry. Margaret had had such wild hopes for this marriage, to have a relationship like her parents – a loving but discreetly loving one, and now she felt abandoned.
She spoke to her mother of it first, plucking up the courage to share such intimate details of her marriage. But Helen Kingsley only sighed and patted her daughter's hand.
"I had not expected it so quickly." She admitted, standing to take tea from the servant who bobbed a curtsey and shut the door behind her.
"You… excuse me Mother?" Margaret floundered. She knew that men would play away when they were bored, but she was not boring was she? She had tried lots of things in the bedroom, during those first heavenly months, she had even gone on top which had been a novel thrill for her.
"Lowell Manchester was never a man to stop his eyes from straying, even when his arm was linked with yours. I knew it was only a matter of time until it was not just his eyes that strayed but also his touch." Helen poured the tea and handed her daughter a handkerchief. "Maggie, what do you want me to say, he is a bounder and a cad." Helen passed over the teacup and sighed once more. "If Charles had not died so suddenly I would have fought you more on such a marriage. But everyone was quick to tell me it was perfect and that I would have one less thing to worry about. Ignorant fools, as if a mother stops worrying about her daughters." She had reclined on the chaise, stirring her tea absent-mindedly.
"Well now what do I do?" Margaret said after a length of time. Her mother's frank confession, coupled with the use of her childhood name had made her feel very vulnerable.
"You can do what most women do and silently deal with it or you…"
"Or I can…?" Margaret looked up at her mother, her eyes full of unshed tears.
"Or you don't deal with it." Her mother said simply.
Margaret waited a couple more months until she made a decision. She had taken her friend, Mrs Georgiana Crest into her confidence, and the two women often discussed it at length in the comfort of Mrs Crest's home. Finally they came to a decision on how to deal with his infidelity. She would need to borrow the courage that she had always associated with Alice – she would be bucking the trend and that was something Alice had done very well.
"Miss Peregrine?" Hattie Peregrine had been startled into standing as Mrs Manchester appeared at the door of her sitting room unannounced.
"Ahh Mrs Manchester."
"You know me already, good good, that saves the introduction." Margaret stripped off her gloves, and looked around the small room. "That does also mean you are aware that the man you are sleeping with is married." She turned back to the stunned woman. "Yes, you are sleeping with my husband and it is rather annoying me but I decided you are more than welcome to him." She strode around the room, eyeing a plate that Lowell had bought for her last Christmas. One of a kind he'd told her.
"I do not…"
"You do not understand that I know you are his mistress? Well my husband being out almost every evening, it's obvious that he has been with another woman." Margaret was now staring at the woman, her eyes cold as ice. "I have decided you can keep him as a lover, I am told on good authority that his actions were below par, I can only hope he is a better lover to you than he was ever to me." She stated and with this shocking line Hattie seemed to recover her senses.
"Did you say every night?" She suddenly stammered out, standing to meet the other woman in the middle of the room. "Lowell does not come to me every night, only Tuesdays." Hattie gaped, Margaret chose to ignore the intimate use of his Christian name.
"Oh did you not know?" Margaret looked at her in mock surprise. "You did not think you and I were the only ones Lowell visits?" She smirked at Hattie's expression and Margaret took the time to stare at her. She was blonde, petite, typically pretty and not entirely different to her own appearance.
"He visits others?" Hattie sat down suddenly and Margaret almost pitied her and took the seat opposite her.
"Yes. You are not an innocent in this, you knew who I was and what I looked like but welcomed Lowell's affections. However I do pity you because you were so easily duped by the scoundrel. You are free to leave him, I have no such luck. I would suggest you spurn any more of his affections." Margaret looked at the other woman and sighed again.
"I am incredibly sorry Mrs Manchester." Hattie looked up at the other woman she had so often mocked with Lowell.
"So you should be." Margaret stood back up again. "Have a good day Miss Peregrine." She walked out leaving the other woman still sat in a state of shock.
The carriage waiting at the end of the street was her destination and Georgiana popped her head out of the door at her arrival.
"One out of four. Onto Mrs Webley." Georgie helped her friend in and gave orders to the cabbie. "How do you feel?" She held Margaret's hand.
"Ridiculously shaky but he deserves this." She nodded, face hardened into determination.
It would be some weeks later, around two and a half months that Lowell would come home again. Margaret had held her countenance when he came home on a Tuesday, and then on a Wednesday after she saw Mrs Webley. She waited a few weeks until she saw Miss Louisa Newton and he came back on Thursdays. Friday nights were dedicated to the clubs and it would not be until she tracked down Miss Cathertone that he would return on Mondays.
"Hello dear." She welcomed with a smile as he sulked in.
"Hello Margaret." He flung himself in an armchair and glared at the ground.
"Something wrong dear?" She asked with another smile, looking up from penning another missive to Alice.
"Nothing at all dear." His terse reply made her sigh, maybe he should have stayed with his mistresses.
"Oh good, you can help me plan our soiree." She took a list from her pocket. "I was thinking a small party. We never see enough of our neighbours I feel, so I was thinking of who we could invite." She chattered, knowing Lowell would barely pay attention to her.
"The Crests would naturally be invited, the Thornes, the Masons, The Churchworths, Miss Penny Appleby and her niece Hattie Peregrine, then maybe the Webleys, it feels such an age since we've seen them." She saw him stiffen from the corner of her eye. "Oh then I do believe Major Cartwright is acting as a guardian for Miss Melissa Cathertone, he must certainly be invited, he is indeed a card with the most wonderful stories of India and then Mr and Mrs Newton are just about to launch their daughter Louisa, so anything to help a new social starling on the scene. I have invited a few young gentlemen so the lovely young ladies will not be too miserable at the prospect of spending the evening without an eligible bachelor. What do you think dear?"
"I leave these things to you." He sounded suddenly nervous, he was anxious and no longer moody. "Are you sure of the list dear?"
"I've already sent out the invites, would be entirely improper to revoke them now." She beamed and shut the desk drawer. She stood, her heart hardened against the weasel of a man she had the misfortune to call a husband. "Maybe if you didn't sleep with half of our social circle, you wouldn't be so anxious at seeing them collected in our townhouse." She held her composure and he stared at her slack jawed. "If you'll excuse me I have to speak to the chef about the menu for this party." She left in a swish of skirts and a satisfied smile.