As they made their way back to the house, Marguerite found herself scanning the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman whom she'd seen earlier, but she was nowhere to be seen. Once the spectators had dispersed and the guests began to enter the house, Marguerite lingered outside a moment longer in hopes of spotting her. When she didn't see her, she reluctantly went inside.
Marguerite typically wouldn't give much thought to her former employees. However, the maid's sudden appearance was anything but casual - Marguerite understood that much. She wanted something. But what?
There was some time for everyone to freshen up before the luncheon. After the meal, the party continued in the drawing room. Although it was customary for men and women to separate, this time was different, allowing everyone to mingle together.
Emily had invited four of her friends to the gathering, adding a unique flair to the evening. Among them were three men: a poet, a philosopher and a jazz musician. And a woman who was introduced as Regina Redmond. She was a commoner but also the jewel of the social season. Her keen intellect and passion for the arts made her a sought-after companion in both salons and soirees.
Emily and her eclectic group of friends, along with Bernard, lounged comfortably, sipping on cocktails, sharing jokes, and erupting into loud laughter. At one moment the jazz musician took to the piano, while Emily lent her voice to the melody of "I'm Wild About Harry."
Marguerite and John hardly took notice of the spirited scene unfolding in front of them. They were rather engaged in their own conversation with Ned and Veronica and a few other guests who arrived later.
On the other hand, Lady Elizabeth and Lady Catherine sat together and watched the unconventional behavior of the young with a disapproving eye.
"Why do you tolerate all this?" Elizabeth asked.
Catherine sighed. "What choice do I have, Elizabeth? Emily has Marguerite backing her every move, and my opinion seems to fade into the background."
"And you, of course, find nothing to criticize about Marguerite."
"Correct." Catherine confirmed. "She was taken from me when she was just a baby. She had to navigate life alone and fend for herself. She's faced hardships and survived. Now she'll only get unconditional love and endless support from me."
"Still, I believe you could be firmer with Emily. She grew up here, with every privilege."
Catherine didn't let her finish. "If I thought it would make a difference..."
"You've always been too soft, Catherine," Elizabeth remarked.
Catherine then turned the question around. "What about you? Have you ever tried to challenge Marguerite and John's casual lifestyle yourself?"
Elizabeth, reflecting on her efforts, replied, "I have, but to no avail. Marguerite never argues with me. She listens out of respect but does as she pleases. And John...he's too enamored to hear anything else. He's entirely devoted to his wife. Now, I am not saying he shouldn't be. All I am saying is that my hands are tied."
Catherine smiled softly, recognizing similarities with her own past. "I had the exact same effect on her father." Then after a brief pause, she added thoughtfully, "Elizabeth… I believe it's time we simply let go and trust the younger ones to steer the course."
As the party ended and they saw off their guests, Emily turned to Ned and Veronica, "You two must come to London. I'll make sure to give you a proper introduction to jazz."
Then, she kissed Marguerite on the cheek and said, "Sweet sister, you're as wonderful as ever. I do love you so."
Catherine gently stroked Marguerite's hair, adding, "The next gathering is at our place. You must come and stay for a few days."
And with that, she hugged Marguerite tightly and gave her a kiss.
The night had fallen, and Marguerite found solace on the balcony of her room, her gaze lost in the darkness. Malone, too, had stepped out onto the shared balcony that connected the family rooms on the second floor. The guest rooms were separate, but Veronica and Ned had been accommodated within the family wing.
Leaning against a pillar, Marguerite perched on the railing, lost in thought. Malone approached her with a gentle inquiry.
"Pleasant thoughts I hope?"
Marguerite, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of her thoughts, turned to him. "Oh, Malone. You know me better than that. If I had pleasant thoughts, I wouldn't be here, staring into the darkness."
"That's what I was afraid of." Malone said. "You've seemed troubled since this morning. Is it because of that maid you saw?"
Marguerite's response was weary. "Let's just say she's not someone I hoped to see here."
"Do you think she wants something?"
"Isn't that always the case? Everyone wants something and it's usually money." Marguerite's laugh was without humor.
"But why is it troubling you? Does she have something against you?" Malone asked.
"Always the reporter." Marguerite replied with a wry smile. Yet, recognizing his genuine concern, she decided to open up. "Anne-Marie Schmidt was my lady's maid from Vienna. She's been with me through all my marriages."
The revelation prompted Malone to ask, "How many marriages have you had?"
"Four."
"Four?"
"Yes, four. And ironically, all my husbands died under, shall we say, mysterious circumstances." Marguerite shared, her words hanging in the air like a delicate secret.
"Wow," was all Malone could muster.
There was a brief pause between them before Marguerite said, "Thank you."
"For what?" Malone asked, puzzled.
"For not asking me whether I've killed them." Marguerite replied.
Malone smiled and said, "But then, she hasn't got anything against you, has she?"
Marguerite sighed deeply, "I might not be guilty of murder, but I am guilty of so many other things."
"What are you going to do?" Malone asked.
"I'll wait to see if she shows up and see what exactly she's after." Marguerite decided.
"Will you tell John?"
Marguerite shook her head gently. "No. There's no need to bother him with this."
"So early into the marriage, yet you're already keeping secrets."
"Don't torture me, Malone."
"Sorry. I just mean, you should tell him these things."
"I've already told him so much. You see, even after our return from The Lost World, there were still people, particularly in Shanghai and Berlin, who wouldn't have minded to see me gone. I confided in John, and he assured me he had contacts, ready to assist at his command."
"And?" Malone pressed, intrigued by the unfolding narrative.
"At first, I refused his offer, believing I could manage on my own. But after an attack in Hyde Park, I had no choice but to accept his help. I'm not exactly sure what John arranged, whom he reached out to, or what they did in the end, but the situation was resolved within weeks. There were no further threats against us, and John promised me there would be no more in the future. He also told me it was probably better if I didn't ask any questions."
Malone was amazed. "Look at that. Lord John Roxton... Transformed into Machiavelli at a touch."
Marguerite, with a secretive smile, whispered, "Don't tell him I told you this - but I thought it was incredibly sexy."
"You're secret safe with me."
Marguerite offered a small, sincere smile. "Thank you, Malone. For being such a good friend and listener. I think I'd lose my mind if it weren't for you."
"That's why I'm here."
Marguerite glanced towards the door that led back to her room. "I should get in. John will wonder where I am."
"Me, too." Malone agreed, recognizing the late hour. "Goodnight. See you tomorrow at breakfast."