“I don’t know. I overheard a conversation between Lady Rosaline and my mother that perturbed me slightly. They seemed to be very interested in keeping your Miss Thorne in gaol at all costs.”
Percival frowned. “Well, considering the amount of trouble Lady Rosaline put into making sure she was arrested, I cannot say I am surprised.”
Henry sighed. “Desperation can make people do things that are out of character. I think that Lady Rosaline is simply misguided.”
Percival snorted. “You realize that if she is misguided, it is very likely that your mother is complicit in leading her astray?”
Henry shook his head. “My mother…she gets notions in her head and it is sometimes difficult to get them out.”
Percival’s eyebrows were at his hairline as he regarded Henry with surprise. “I did not realize you saw her so clearly.”
Henry shook his head. “I cannot bury my head in the sand forever, old man.”
Percival clapped him on the shoulder. “Indeed, you cannot, old boy. Indeed, you cannot. Come, let us retire to the study and discuss this over a glass of port like proper men.”
He left his arm around Henry’s shoulders as they walked down the hall, the camaraderie strong between them. For the first time in a long time, Percival felt the bond of blood between them and lamented the wasted past, where Henry’s mother had pitted one against the other.
Abigail arranged her wardrobe as Tommy watched her, unblinking.
“Tommy?” she modulated her voice so that it was smooth and even, “Is something the matter?”
Tommy shook his head vigorously, his hair whipping from side to side, now clean and untangled but still too long.
“Tommy,” she said again, trying her best to imitate Joan's most motherly intonation.
Tommy sighed. “I miss me Mum.”
Abigail stopped fidgeting with her clothes and took the few steps necessary to sit by Tommy on the bed. She took his hand, squeezing it between her own. “I know you do. I am very sorry for your loss.”
Tommy looked down, a single tear trailing down his cheek.
“You have been such a brave boy. She would be proud.”
Tommy let out a sob and Abigail gathered him in her arms, swaying back and forth with him, trying to soothe him as best she could. She felt her own sympathetic tears gathering, for she could imagine how awful it must be to lose a parent.
At least to lose a parent that one was familiar with.
The thought of her real father flitted through her mind, even as she held Tommy closer and tighter. A knock on the door distracted them both, and they let go of each other.
“Come in.”
Abigail watched the door with wide eyes, wondering if Percival was going to defy propriety and come to her bedchambers. She did not know if she was relieved or disappointed when she saw that it was Claudette at the door. Nevertheless, she gave her friend a smile. “Do come in,” she said, standing up to give Claudette a hug. Claudette held her tight, clearly glad to see her, and Abigail felt a little bit of shame at her momentary disappointment.
“Are you all right?” Claudette asked, searching her features anxiously.
“As fine as can be,” Abigail said, and huffed a laugh. Claudette punched her on the arm. “Ouch! Why did you do that?” Abigail asked as Tommy giggled at them.
Claudette cast a quick glance at the boy before she returned her glare to Abigail. “I told you not to go to Huntington House alone!”
Abigail had the grace to look shamefaced. “Fair enough. You were right, I was wrong. I concede. Forgive me.”
Claudette punched her again on the arm before turning to Tommy. “And who is this handsome young fellow?” She asked with a smile.
Abigail reached out her hand for Tommy to take, pulling him to his feet. “This is my friend Tommy. I met him in prison. His mother, unfortunately, is no more and so he will be staying with me.”
Claudette gave her a disbelieving glance before her eyes softened as she regarded the boy with a sigh. “Well, I suppose you could not leave him. Not you with your soft, soft heart.”
It was Abigail's turn to punch Claudette on the arm. “I am not soft.” She protested. “I will have you know that my father is a criminal, and I have just been released on bond from Newgate. Hardly the behavior of a soft, soft person.”
Claudette snorted with amusement. “If you say so, my girl.” She jumped onto the bed, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable. “So…” she said before glancing at Tommy and back at Abigail. “Tell me, Tommy, do you want to go to the kitchens and see if they have anything for you to eat?”
Tommy nodded his head vigorously, a smile on his face as he got to his feet.
“All right then, tell them to make you some soup and bread. Make sure you eat it all.”
Tommy left the room, closing the door behind him.
“Alone at last,” Claudette said, “now tell me everything that happened to you from the moment we parted.”
Abigail took a deep breath and proceeded to catch Claudette up on everything. When she was done, Claudette shook her head in bemusement. “Tis good as a play, this story of yours. So what now? Will you go to Gretna Green with your Duke?”
Abigail sighed. “It is not the way I wanted to get married. I cannot help but feel the Duke has been forced to marry me, for some promise he made in happier times.”
“If it wasn't for the Duke, that awful woman would not have framed you.”
“Perhaps. I still feel like what would have been a happy occasion is now a desperate gamble that may not even work.”
Claudette leaned over to cover Abigail’s hand with hers. “Now is not the time to have your head in the clouds, Abby. It’s time to be practical.”
“I know, Claudette. I am allowed to mourn the death of a dream, aren’t I?”
“Of course you are, darling. And I will sit here and mourn with you if you like. I cannot help but worry. Everything is so up in the air.”
“Uncle Philip and Mama do not seem worried. They have a plan, they say. I feel like they have been conspiring with Percival, and that they are keeping things from me. It scares me, while at the same time it fills me with sadness because a few weeks ago, my parents and Percival being thick as thieves would have been something to smile about.”
Claudette leaned in. “Honey, you have to realize that when you disappeared, they were all three in a state. They put their differences aside in order to find you. All three of them love you very much, and this period of hardship has bonded them in that love.”
“You could be right, but I cannot help the niggling worry that there's more going on here than meets the eye.”
Claudette shrugged. “Well, your instincts have always been good. You should listen to them.”
Abigail frowned. “What? You just finished telling me that it is all about the bond that comes with trauma, now you're saying I'm right?”
“No. I am saying that you should listen to your senses. For they know better than I what you are feeling.”
Abigail drew a deep breath, flopping backward on the bed. “I don't know, Claudette. I have lived days in darkness and fear. I think I just need some rest and tranquility.”
“Rest and tranquility sound wise. You should do that.” Claudette got to her feet. “I shall leave you to it, shall I? Will you be at the shop tomorrow?”
“I expect so.” Abigail frowned, not having considered how her bond would affect her livelihood.
Am I even allowed to work?
“Well then, I shall see you there.”
Abigail reached out and squeezed Claudette’s hand. “Thank you very much for coming to see me. And for your help in finding me when I was locked up.”
Claudette squeezed back. “Absolutely no need for that. You are my friend. I was happy to do it.”
Abigail got to her feet as well, ready to escort Claudette to the door. She was sorry to see her go, a familiar face in this unfamiliar place. Abigail knew that Percival lived wit
h his aunt and his cousin. She had a feeling that they would not take kindly to their new lodger. She expected they might treat her exactly like all the other women of the town had been doing, like some sort of spectacle, one who was beneath their touch. Only the attentions of the Duke making her noteworthy in any way.
Still, she crept down the stairs, Claudette at her side. She had it in mind that she should find Tommy, lest he be lost somewhere in this too large house. She was also feeling a twinge of hunger, and hoped to pinch some of his bread. It had been a busy day, and she had not taken the time to nourish herself.
They embraced at the door, as Claudette put her cloak on and with one last goodbye she disappeared into the night. Abigail wandered down the hall, wondering which door led to the kitchens. There was no one in sight that she could ask, and she did not want to go snooping. She was fairly sure the household was already wary of her. She did not want to give them more reason to be suspicious. So she climbed quickly back up the stairs and to her room, hoping that Tommy would return shortly.
She was still startled when he burst into the room, his face red with excitement.
“Abigail, tha-they...the girls, downstairs…”
Abigail reached out and squeezed Tommy’s shoulder. “Shh, calm yourself. Breathe. Tell me slowly.”
Tommy continued to breathe fast and shallow, his face reddened with effort.
“Tommy!” She shouted and he gasped, stopped breathing altogether before his breath evened out and he was able to speak.
“Th-there i-is a-a-a wo-wo-woman…” He stopped speaking, running out of breath.
“There is a woman?” Abigail asked, nodding in a way to encourage him to continue.
“Woman shouting. S-she s-aid we sho-should leave.”
Abigail's eyebrow went up. “A woman in the kitchen?”
Tommy shook his head vigorously. “She’s with the master, i-in his office.” It seemed to occur to him then, that he was not supposed to have been in the master’s office. His face colored with embarrassment. “I just meant to find out what the noise was. That’s why I went there.”
“Did you see the woman?” She asked curiously.
Tommy shook his head again with vigor. “No, ma’am. But he called her Lady Rosaline.”
Chapter 27
Conniptions
“Why is she living in your house? She stole from me! How dare you?”
“With all due respect Lady Rosaline, it is none of your business who resides under my roof.”
Lady Rosaline’s jaw dropped. “How can you speak to me that way?”
Percival barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “My dear Lady Rosaline, I think that it's time you went home.” Percival reached out to cup her elbow, but Lady Rosaline jerked it away.
“Do not,” she growled. “Tell me what to do.” She whirled around and stormed out of the room. Percival gave a very put-upon sigh.
Rosaline’s eyes swept down the hall, keeping an eye out for Lady Stanley. She knew the dowager was somewhere close by. She must be because she was the one who had sent a message to Rosaline to let her know that the little upstart was staying at Northcott House.
It still came as a surprise when a hand reached out through the parlor door and unceremoniously pulled her in.
“What…?” She stumbled over her gown, as Lady Stanley propelled her forward, shutting the door firmly behind Rosaline. She didn't let that stop her from turning around and clutching Lady Stanley’s shoulders tightly.
“It didn't work! He still protects her. How can he protect a thief? What is wrong with him?”
Lady Stanley shook her head, seeming as mystified as Rosaline herself.
“Tis more serious than we thought. Go home, Lady Rosaline. Do not worry about this woman. You must trust in the Lord, my dear. He will not let this injustice continue. Very soon, the Duke shall be in your arms again.”
Rosaline gave a curt nod. “Amen. I will pray very hard for things to return to their rightful direction and trust that the Lord will not let me down.”
“Indeed, He will not. You must trust Him.”
“I do, Lady Stanley. He has been faithful to me as have you and my family. I know that I shall prevail in this issue.”
“All right then, listen to me now. The Cartridges are having a supper party. I'm sure you have been invited. Make sure to attend on your father's arm. Hold your head up high, and let everybody see how well you're doing.”
“What? No, I cannot. I am not prepar—”
“Stuff and nonsense, of course you're prepared, you have prepared for this your whole life. Go home, primp yourself, and allow your father to escort you to this event.”
Rosaline hesitated, wanting to say something else but ultimately she closed her mouth and turned to the door. “I will do that, but you must promise me to take care of this situation and get that light-skirt out of this house.”
Lady Stanley patted her arm. “Don’t you worry about anything. I will see you at the Cartridges.”
Rosaline nodded briefly before turning to leave. If she knew one thing, it was that Lady Stanley was up to something, and knowing her, she did not want Rosaline to be involved. That was quite fine with Rosaline as long as she got what she wanted—to be Duchess of Northcott.
“Was that really necessary?” Aunt Martha closed the door gently behind her and Percival resigned himself to an unscheduled lecture on etiquette and propriety and how not to treat one's theoretical future bride.
“I do not know what you mean, Aunt.” He tried to head her off but he could see by the determination in her eyes that he would not be successful.
“Despite your...current circumstances, the Hoskins have been dear friends for a long time to both me and your dearly departed parents. You have treated their daughter abysmally and should be ashamed.”
Percival grimaced. “I shall be sure to apologize when next I see her.” He stood up from his seat, “but at the moment I need to go and find out how our guest is settling in. Excuse me, Aunt.” He made her a leg before striding out of the room without a backward glance.
He paused at the bottom of the stairs, questions of propriety ringing in his head. He stopped a passing serving maid instead of taking the stairs two at a time.
“Would you be so kind as to convey to Miss Thorne that her presence is requested in the dining room?” He knew that supper was served, delayed due to the carfuffle with Lady Rosaline.
“Yes, sir,” she curtsied clumsily before hurrying up the stairs.
Abigail and Tommy scrambled back into the room as soon as they heard Percival asking someone to look for Abigail.
“Come, let's wash our faces. It is time to eat.” Abigail felt relief that her hunger was about to be satisfied. Living in this house might prove more of a challenge than she had anticipated. Not only because of the hostility of some of its residents but also being unable to move around freely, perhaps make herself a meal, or touch anything without feeling ill at ease. She suddenly very much wanted to go home to her mother. Lady Rosaline shouting in the corridor had been particularly unsettling. These people would never accept her.
She changed into a clean gown, just then realizing that Tommy had only the clothes he stood up in.
“Tomorrow I shall take you to the shop and measure you for a tunic and some long pants. Would you like that?”
Tommy merely nodded disinterestedly. “Are we going to eat food now?”
Abigail smiled, taking his hand. “Yes, Tommy, let’s go and eat.”
Just in time, there was a knock on the door and the maid poked her head in to tell them that they were expected in the dining room for supper.
“Lead the way,” Abigail said with a smile.
The Cartridges’ supper party was well underway by the time Rosaline arrived on her father's arm. They were quite thrilled to see her and Rosaline knew it was because she was a major player in the current on-dits. By now it must have got around that Percival had broken their engagement, and that his bird of p
aradise was residing at Northcott House.
It was nothing less than humiliating, but she held her head high and kept a smile on her face. Her father squeezed her hand, staying close, and for that, she was more grateful than she could put into words.
Not long after the arrival, she spotted Lady Stanley, accompanied by her son, Lord Stanley. As soon as she caught sight of Rosaline and her father, she made a beeline for them.
“My dear Lady Rosaline, how are you doing?” She asked as if they had not spent the early evening, commiserating.
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