Free Maggie by M.C. Beaton

Farquharson and Miss Meikle, to wait outside until I have a word with Mrs. Macleod and Lord Strathairn in private.”
    Mr. Farquharson opened his mouth to protest, but the earl said, “Please leave us,” and he reluctantly withdrew from the room, accompanied by Miss Meikle.
    Mr. Byles waited to make sure they had gone and then he said, “My lord, this strange marriage of yours has been on my conscience. Provided I do not keep you to it, then thereis no reason why it should be considered legal and binding. It is a form of marriage which has all but died out. You are a young man and were no doubt carried away. As you can see, Mrs. Macleod is a free woman and there is nothing to stop her returning to her home and making a new life for herself.”
    The earl’s first reaction was a feeling of intense relief, as if he, too, had just been found not guilty of a crime. He was now free to go back to his happy, carefree bachelor life. Perhaps it was the thought of the life he had experienced since inheriting his peerage—a mixture of loneliness and indolence—that irked him, but much to his surprise he found himself protesting, “I feel it would be ungentlemanly to leave Mrs. Macleod like this. What sort of life awaits here? The verdict did not clear her name. Her home will be surrounded for weeks by photographers and reporters and the curious public. Have you any relatives, Mrs. Macleod? Your father…?”
    “I don’t know where my father is,” she said in a flat voice, drained of all emotion. “I only know that if I did find him, then he would not give me a home. I have no other relatives that I know of.
    “I agreed to marry you, my lord, because I felt you had been tricked into it in some way. A bet, perhaps?”
    The earl flushed.
    “I was sure I would be sentenced to death so it did not seem to matter very much either way.” She raised her eyes to the earl’s. “As far as I am concerned, my lord, the marriage, if such a comedy can be called a marriage, never took place.”
    “But what will you do?” demanded the earl.
    “I don’t know,” she said wearily. “I just don’t know.”
    The earl thought quickly. He could not bring himself to walk away and leave her to her fate. That was something the Marquess of Handley would do and Lord Strathairn did notwant to be like the marquess. It would do no harm to get her away from Glasgow for a bit, away from the staring crowds. Then, when she had recovered from the murder and the trial, and the interest in her had died down, why, then he could return her home with an easy conscience.
    “I, too, agree to forget all about the marriage,” he said. “Some day I will explain to you why I behaved in such a foolish and callow manner. I have discovered I own a town house in St. James’s in London. Would you like to come to London with me for a bit? Mr. Byles will find a way we can leave the court without anyone seeing us. Say you will come. I promise to take care of you until such time as you are recovered from this nightmare.”
    She looked at him very steadily and she wondered what he was thinking.
    “My lord,” said Mr. Byles sternly, “I would like to believe your motives are of the purest, but you must admit…”
    “My motives are altruistic,” said the earl crossly. “I have no interest in Mrs. Macleod as a woman, only as a fellow human being in need of help.”
    Mr. Byles studied the earl’s face. It was too handsome to be trustworthy, he decided, and yet there was a firmness about the jaw and mouth and a steadiness in the earl’s gaze which belied the philanderer.
    “I think,” he said cautiously, “I should leave the decision to Mrs. Macleod.”
    Maggie turned her steady gaze on Mr. Byles. “Do I have any money?” she asked.
    Mr. Byles looked startled. “Where were your wits during the trial, my girl? And, when your late husband’s solicitors called to see you in prison? Mr. Macleod left you a great deal of money, not to mention his house and all the