Abigail gasped. She had never heard this story before.
“If it was only him, I would have managed. No, the danger lay with my stepmother. My father had died, leaving me what little property he had, instead of her, and she was not about to lose it all to me without a fight.”
“Is that how you ended up on Drury Lane?
“Yes, I am getting there.” Claudette said impatiently. “I let them push me out of the house because there was nobody there who would fight for me. I was afraid that if I stayed I would end up worse than a slave. So I stowed away on a stagecoach coming to London.”
“You never told me that before.”
“I do not like to think on it or even remember it. Richard wants things from me that I can give, in exchange for the chance to live free. But you…”
“What about me?”
“You have grown up always surrounded by love. You expect it from everyone who comes into your life and you get it. Being second best would never be good enough for you.”
Abigail stared at her friend. “You are right. When did you get so wise?”
Claudette laughed. “I was always wise. You were fooled by the feathers, just like everyone else.”
Abigail simply continued to look at her friend, her expression serious. “Well, I apologize for letting the feathers blind me, my friend. I see you now. And you are worthy of love. I love you. Always have. You have been a good and dear friend to me always.”
Claudette flapped her hands in dismissal. “We digress. All I am saying is that you should not feel bad for not being able to agree to the Duke’s terms. You would not make it as a mistress.”
“Oh! But that is just it. I did tell him I could not be his mistress and he asked me to be his wife!”
Claudette reared back in surprise, gaping at Abigail. “Are you sure you understood him?” she asked worriedly.
“Yes, yes, he came home to the house and asked Philip and Mama for my hand.”
Claudette simply continued to stare in disbelief.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Abigail prompted.
“It’s unbelievable,” Claudette, breathed.
Abigail laughed, “Trust me, it was a shock to me as well. I could not believe he had broken his engagement to the lady to ask for my hand.” She shook her head slowly. “I still don’t believe it.”
“Yes…I can certainly see how this would be hard to believe,” Claudette said, turning away from Abigail.
Abigail opened her mouth and then hesitated, reaching out a tentative hand. “Claudette? Are you all right?”
Her friend turned around with a watery smile, “Yes, yes, I am fine. I am just so happy for you.”
Abigail really looked at her, the tears falling from her reddened eyes, her hunched posture. “Oh, Claudette,” she murmured reaching for her friend, “Whatever it is, it is all right. Talk to me.”
Claudette tried to laugh, “It's silly.”
“It’s not silly. Tell me.”
“It’s just…you have found love and I am so happy for you but also I do not want to lose you.”
“Lose me? How?”
“Well, I am sure your Duke will not let you associate with a lowly mistress. And actress, to boot.”
“Nonsense. Percival does not tell me what to do.”
Claudette snorted. “You say that now. But once you are one of them, you will forget all about us.”
“Will I forget about my mother, too? And my uncle? Don’t be ridiculous, Claudette.”
“They are your family…”
“So are you!”
Claudette just sniffed miserably so Abigail sought for something to distract her. She pulled out the note she had received from Lady Rosaline.
“Besides, if I forget about you, who will help me to figure out whatever this is?” she asked, brandishing the note in Claudette’s face. Her friend frowned and grabbed the note, opening and reading it curiously. Her frown deepened with each word.
She looked up at Abigail, eyes urgent. “Abigail, do not heed this note. Do not go to this meeting.”
“Why not?” Abigail frowned in surprise, having expected some derision aimed at Lady Rosaline but not this urgent fear.
“I cannot say. I just have a bad feeling about this. Why does she want to speak to you?”
Abigail looked down at the note. “Because she wants to discuss the current things that have happened. It is her right to expect me to look her in the eye and explain what has happened, is it not?
“No, it is not. You have nothing to explain to her. Let your man explain if he must. He is the one who left her.”
Abigail shook her head. “She has appealed to my womanhood. We women should stick together, right?”
Claudette was vigorously shaking her head. “No, no, no. She is not like us.”
Abigail snorted. “God, no, of course not. However, she is still a woman and deserving of some respect. It was an unfortunate thing that has happened and if she needs to look me in the eye to get over it, then it is her right.”
“This woman does not wish you well!” Claudette insisted.
“Well, of course, I know that and I do not intend to eat or drink anything she gives me. However, I feel duty bound to go.”
Claudette shook her head with despair. “Very well, but take your mother with you. Or me. Or Philip. Somebody.”
Abigail placed her hand gently on top of Claudette’s. “Your worry is noted, dear friend. But I think I can manage. I am no mooncalf nor am I a green girl.”
“You think too well of human nature, my girl.”
Abigail laughed. “Sometimes, maybe. But even I am not blind to this one’s malevolence. I do remember how pleased she was at her engagement, however, and I think that her grief is real. I have no doubt she means to persuade me to step aside and let her have Percival. If it will make her feel better, then I am amenable to letting her ask.”
“You are too kind, my dear.”
“I…have my own guilt to assuage. It is not entirely selfless that I do this.”
“Oh, Abigail. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Falling in love is quite beyond your control.”
Abigail sighed. “Indeed. But that does not mean we are allowed to be callous, even if those same people would be callous to us.”
“Please, darling, call on me as soon as you are finished with this hoyden.”
“I give you my word.”
Chapter 21
Entrapment
Abigail agonized on what to wear for her tea with Lady Rosaline. She wanted to present herself in the best possible light without looking smug or self-satisfied. She changed clothes three times before settling on a navy blue gown with gold ruches down the sides of her bosom. The bodice was square necked, showing off her ample bust. She gathered her hair into a knot on top of her head and nodded at her reflection in the glass. In spite of Claudette’s dire warnings, she had decided to go alone.
She did not even tell her mother where she was going.
She left the shop and took a gig to Mayfair, trying to calm her nerves as they drove. She had no idea what was going to happen but she vowed to be as kind as she could.
The gig dropped her off at the front door and she hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should find the service entrance. A footman was in front of her before she could make up her mind and he was smiling at her and gesturing for her to enter.
She took a tentative step into the house, taking note of the expensive appointments that lined the hallway, the paintings of ancestors that showed what an old line the Hoskins were.
The butler took her cloak from her and hung it up by the door. She then followed him down the hall, stepping as lightly as possible lest she inadvertently break something.
The butler showed her into a sunny room where a tea set was already laid out with honey cakes and pigeon pies. Lady Rosaline reclined against a settee, her green gown offset beautifully by the golden fabric of the settee.
Abigail came to a stop in the middle o
f the room, waiting to be told where to sit. Lady Rosaline gestured for her to sit opposite her.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, as the maid poured out the tea.
“You’re welcome.” Abigail murmured, looking around the room curiously.
“Would you like some milk in your tea or would you prefer mint?” the maid asked her and Abigail hesitated, not really sure which was better.
“Umm, milk. Thank you,” she remembered that she was not planning to put any of the food in her mouth anyway.
The maid handed her a tiny cup of tea as well as a plate of honey cakes. Abigail nodded and thanked her with a smile. Lady Rosaline had not taken her eyes off Abigail the entire time. It made her very uncomfortable and she struggled not to fidget. She turned her head, meeting Lady Rosaline’s eyes.
“You wanted to talk?”
“Yes, I did. This...situation between us is unfortunate.”
Abigail nodded. “I am sorry for your pain.”
Lady Rosaline scoffed. “No, you are not. You are quite pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”
Abigail raised an eyebrow. Well, that didn’t take long.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised!” Lady Rosaline exclaimed, “You had to know I would be upset.”
“Of course you’re upset. This is an upsetting situation.”
Lady Rosaline glared at Abigail as if she suspected that she was making fun of her.
“Why did you do it?”
“Why did I do it? What did I do?”
“You stole away my Duke!”
Abigail sighed. “Lady Rosaline. I sympathize with your pain. I do. But I did not steal anyone away from you. Percival came looking for me.”
“Oh, Percival is it?” she sneered. “Who gave you permission to use his given name?”
“He did.”
Lady Rosaline reared back, seemingly genuinely taken aback. “What?”
Abigail gave her a questioning look. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
Lady Rosaline narrowed her eyes at Abigail. “So you lured him with your...feminine wiles, did you? You’re nothing but an incognita.”
Abigail raised an eyebrow. “Well, in that case I conclude we have nothing further to discuss.” She stood up, putting her untouched tea on the table.
Lady Rosaline shot to her feet. “Wait. Stop. I am sorry. My emotions overtook me for a moment. Please, sit. Let us talk like women.”
“Lady Rosaline, it was my intention to give you the opportunity to obtain catharsis with this meeting. It was not my intention to allow you to insult me.”
Lady Rosaline nodded, “I do understand. Please, you have not finished your tea.”
As if I could possibly drink it now.
Lady Rosaline took a deep breath, seeming discomposed as she fidgeted on the settee. “I...am not used to...being in this position. Miss Thorne, I do not know if you know this, but the Hoskins and the Montagus have been close allies for generations. Ever since I was a child, I have known that my destiny would be to marry the next Duke of Northcott. I have been preparing for it my whole life. There are so many traditions and rules, you have no idea. There is no hope that you would ever learn them in time. If you were to marry the Duke, you would flounder and drown in the sea of expectations that you cannot possibly hope to fulfill.”
Abigail did not want to listen to any more of this but she had a feeling that Lady Rosaline was telling her the truth.
How could I ever hope to be a Duchess? I am nothing but a dressmaker!
“I know you might feel that love is all you need but that is simply not true. I beg you to reconsider this rash course of action before you ruin not only your own life but the Duke’s, as well.”
Abigail felt the first twinge of doubt twist her belly.
Do I really have my head in the clouds? Maybe I cannot do this.
She watched as the lady fingered a ruby brooch that was probably more valuable than everything Abigail owned. Suddenly the door opened and the butler poked his head in.
“My Lady, that package you asked for has arrived.”
Lady Rosaline frowned. “What package?”
“The one from the jeweler’s, My Lady. Lady Huntington asked me to alert you as soon as it came.”
Lady Rosaline sighed, getting to her feet. “Excuse me a moment,” she said to Abigail before walking out of the room. Abigail slumped back in her seat, eyes closed.
What am I doing?
The sound of footsteps had her sitting up again, eyes on the door. Lady Rosaline came in with a self-satisfied smile on her face.
“Now. As I was saying, you are making a monumental mistake.”
“Thank you, I understood you the first time you said it.”
“Well, then I hope you will take my words in the spirit in which they were meant and withdraw yourself from the situation.”
Abigail looked away. She wanted to leave. In fact, she saw no reason why she was still there. She got to her feet.
“Thank you very much for your hospitality. I will be leaving now,” she declared before marching out of the room.
She could not stop her hands from trembling, so she hid them in the folds of her dress. The butler handed her cloak to her and she put it on absentmindedly before stepping out of the door. She sighed, wondering if she should walk or flag down a hackney or a chair. It was not far to Bond Street and she had a lot to think about.
She decided to walk.
She had not reached the end of the street when she heard the whistling. She turned to see various Bow Street Runners blowing their whistles and pointing at something in her direction.
“Stop!” one of them shouted and she startled, looking around for who they might be speaking to. There were various beau monde ladies nearby, and they were all looking at her as though she might turn into a monster and attack them. She turned her head from side to side, confused, even as the Bow Street Runners continued to blow their whistles and shout.
One of them reached her and grabbed her arm.
“Ah! What are you doing?” she cried.
“Come with us, Miss,” he said, his face grim. She followed behind him, still reeling from this unexpected turn of events. Surely Lady Rosaline could not seek to have her arrested for refusing to give up the Duke? That was ridiculous. Wasn’t it?
The Bow Street Runners hustled her right up to Huntington House and she was beginning to suspect that, yes, Lady Rosaline was attempting to have her arrested for refusing to leave off with Percival.
She almost laughed at how outré it all was.
But the Bow Street Runners around her were very real and Lady Rosaline was a powerful force in the community. No doubt Percival was at least equally powerful but he was not here.
“Yes! That’s her. She’s the one who stole my brooch!” Lady Rosaline screamed from down the hall.
“What?” Abigail exclaimed with irritation. This was the second time that Lady Rosaline had tried to accuse her of theft. “What brooch? I have taken nothing from you.”
“Oh, really? This is the second thing you have stolen from me!” she cried. “Where is my brooch?” she turned to the Bow Street Runners. “Search her!”
Abigail stood still as one of the law enforcers began to manhandle her with absolutely no care for her womanhood. He ran his hands up and down her sides before squeezing at her bosom.
Finding nothing, he thrust his hands into the inner pouch sewn into her cloak.
“Aha!” he cried, pulling something out. Something red and shiny that had most certainly not been in there when she wore her cloak this morning.
“That’s it. That’s my brooch.” Lady Rosaline cried.
Abigail was shaking her head. “I didn’t. I didn’t take that.”
“Oh, yes? Then how did it end up in your garment?” one of the lawmen asked.
Abigail looked accusingly at Lady Rosaline. “She did it. She is trying to frame me!”
Lady Rosaline sneered. “That is your defense?” she turned to the Bow St
reet Runners. “Please take her away.”
The men grabbed her. “In the name of His Majesty the King, you're hereby arrested!”
“No!” Abigail pushed against him, trying to get free.
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