Jamie felt as though he had been hit in the stomach. “She can’t be! When did she leave?”
“She and her son took the noon coach to Worcester.”
The train sitting at the station in Worcester was filled to capacity, the seats and aisles crowded with noisy travelers on their way to Cape Town. There were merchants and their wives, salesmen, prospectors, kaffirs and soldiers and sailors reporting back for duty. Most of them were riding a train for the first time and there was a festive atmosphere among the passengers. Margaret had been able to get a seat near a window, where Jamie would not be crushed by the crowd. She sat there holding her baby close to her, oblivious to those around her, thinking about the new life that lay ahead of them. It would not be easy. Wherever she went, she would be an unmarried woman with a child, an offense to society. But she would find a way to make sure her son had his chance at a decent life. She heard the conductor call, “All aboard!”
She looked up, and Jamie was standing there. “Collect your things,” he ordered. “You’re getting off the train.”
He still thinks he can buy me, Margaret thought. “How much are you offering this time?”
Jamie looked down at his son, peacefully asleep in Margaret’s arms. “I’m offering you marriage.”
9
They were married three days later in a brief, private ceremony. The only witness was David Blackwell.
During the wedding ceremony, Jamie McGregor was filled with mixed emotions. He was a man who had grown used to controlling and manipulating others, and this time it was he who had been manipulated. He glanced at Margaret. Standing next to him, she looked almost beautiful. He remembered her passion and abandon, but it was only a memory, nothing more, without heat or emotion. He had used Margaret as an instrument of vengeance, and she had produced his heir.
The minister was saying, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Jamie leaned forward and briefly touched his lips to Margaret’s cheek.
“Let’s go home,” Jamie said. His son was waiting for him.
When they returned to the house, Jamie showed Margaret to a bedroom in one of the wings.
“This is your bedroom,” Jamie informed her.
“I see.”
“I’ll hire another housekeeper and put Mrs. Talley in charge of Jamie. If there’s anything you require, tell David Blackwell.”
Margaret felt as though he had struck her. He was treating her like a servant. But that was not important. My son has a name. That is enough for me.
Jamie did not return home for dinner. Margaret waited for him, then finally dined alone. That night she lay awake in her bed, aware of every sound in the house. At four o’clock in the morning, she finally fell asleep. Her last thought was to wonder which of the women at Madam Agnes’s he had chosen.
If Margaret’s relationship with Jamie was unchanged since their marriage, her relationship with the townspeople of Klipdrift underwent a miraculous transformation. Overnight, Margaret went from being an outcast to becoming Klipdrift’s social arbiter. Most of the people in town depended for their living in one way or another on Jamie McGregor and Kruger-Brent, Ltd. They decided that if Margaret van der Merwe was good enough for Jamie McGregor, she was good enough for them. Now when Margaret took little Jamie for an outing, she was met with smiles and cheery greetings. Invitations poured in. She was invited to teas, charity luncheons and dinners and urged to head civic committees. When she dressed her hair in a different way, dozens of women in town instantly followed suit. She bought a new yellow dress, and yellow dresses were suddenly popular. Margaret handled their fawning in the same manner she had handled their hostility—with quiet dignity.
Jamie came home only to spend time with his son. His attitude toward Margaret remained distant and polite. Each morning at breakfast she played the role of happy wife for the servants’ benefit, despite the cool indifference of the man sitting across the table from her. But when Jamie had gone and she could escape to her room, she would be drenched in perspiration. She hated herself. Where was her pride? Because Margaret knew she still loved Jamie. I’ll always love him, she thought. God help me.