The Redemption of Lord Rawlings

by Rachel Van Dyken

  As the words penetrated into her heart, she realized she had awoken to a real nightmare. Rawlings, the man who held her heart in the palm of his hand, had abandoned her. He really was the devil everyone said. And at one and eight, she was ruined for any other man. How could a girl love anyone without the one thing needed in order to engage in such an emotion? One’s heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Was that Whitmore this author spied leaving the Rawlings’ estate yesterday afternoon? Curious that such a man would visit Rawlings’ house without his presence. For this author has it on good authority that the now wealthy Lord Rawlings was busy with his solicitor most of the afternoon. Fishy indeed, and did it also appear that one of the servants was handing an envelope to our rakish marquess? Mark my words, dear readers. Trouble is afoot.

  —Mrs. Peabody’s Society papers

  Phillip hated to be so hasty, and only hoped that the letter he had left for Abigail would explain enough. He’d been away from all the estates for years. Once he left the solicitor’s office, he was overwhelmed with the responsibility. How had all of those tenants survived so long without him? Had his mother even visited? Or taken care of them during the hard winters?

  Feeling cruel and bitter, he stopped at his townhome to pen a quick note to be delivered to the Tempest residence as soon as possible.

  He then grabbed what things he would need for the next four days and took off like a shot from a pistol. People depended on him, and for once in his life he felt a purpose welling up within him. Suddenly proud, he couldn’t help but smile the entire way to his first estate in Essex. The rain poured and this time, with a laugh, Phillip lifted his eyes heavenward and enjoyed the cool wet drops as they poured purposefully down his face. With each raindrop he felt his new life emerging, as if he was nothing but a shadow of himself before.

  He had love and his father had never intended for him to live the way he had. His bitterness had done nothing but keep him from his destiny, from his happiness. The cool water splashed and spilled over his chin, cleansing him.

  It seemed, in that moment, that the devil of a man was forever gone, and in his place was a man truly redeemed.

  Abigail.

  The name hung in the air. He needed to see her, to speak to her. But she would understand. She’d always believed in him. Hadn’t she loved him when he was at his worst?

  She might be a trifle upset that he didn’t hand deliver the letter, but in all honesty he knew if he was to bring it she would stop at nothing until he allowed her to accompany him, and he couldn’t have her with him while he traveled in the wet, murky countryside.

  Four days later, and utterly exhausted, Phillip hardly had any energy left, but he had to see her. For three nights she had haunted his dreams, and for three nights he had awoken with unfulfilled need. His body burning with unquenched desire from the siren.

  It was more than torture to have to wait the hour before he was back in the city. Even though he looked worse for the wear, he jumped from the curricle and pounded on the Tempest townhome, ready to scale the walls if they didn’t make haste and open the blasted door.

  The butler answered, and for once did not look behind Phillip to make sure nobody was the wiser to his presence, but took it upon himself to slam the door in Phillip’s face.

  Had the world gone mad?

  He knocked again and shouted, “What in the blazes is wrong with you? Do you know who I am? Let me in!”

  The door opened so fast it nearly knocked him down the three steps behind him.

  “You must have some nerve!” Sebastian fumed.

  “Nerve? To knock on your door? Funny, I would call it common sense, unless you’d rather I scale the wall or crawl in through the window. Whatever is wrong with you, Seb? You look awful.”

  “I’m going to give you two minutes to take your lying presence off my property before I get my pistol.”

  Sebastian’s face was tired and worn. His eyes looked sullen, and dark purple bruises seemed to mar the skin underneath his eyes. The duke looked like death, leaving Phillip to assume the worst. Something had happened to Emma.

  “Where is she? What happened?” Trying to offer support, he braced Sebastian, but was pushed away with a curse.

  “She is fine, no thanks to you. What did you think would happen, Phillip? You disappeared for days after the announcement was made. Everyone knows you only used Abigail to get back at Emma and me. The devil only knows why you would feel the need to stoop so low. And to bring poor Abigail into this. She loves you, stupid sod that you are, and you run away.”

  Phillip’s gut twisted. Feeling sicker by the minute, he could only stand and stare. “Believe me when I tell you, I have no idea what you are talking about. I love Abigail. I want to marry her. Four days ago I received permission to do so. And it’s going to take a whole lot more than your sorry presence and false accusations to get me to cry off.”

  Sebastian squinted. “You love her?”

  “Yes, I love her! You fool! Why else would I travel for days, making sure the estates weren’t in such a sorry shamble? What would take a normal man weeks took me days. I had to get back to see her. To marry her. Didn’t you receive my letter?”

  “I believe we should continue this conversation inside.”

  Phillip pushed past him. “Agreed.” Turning around, he noted that Sebastian truly had a pistol in his hand. “Devil take it man! Were you going to shoot me?”

  The fact that Sebastian paused before answering, “No,” made Phillip want to curse.

  “How would that have solved anything?”

  “Oh, it would have solved everything, for I wouldn’t have to feel like a blasted cad every time I looked into Abigail’s face. I wouldn’t have to hear her sobbing through the night, or the dark nightmares that seem to plague her during her waking hours. Believe me, it would have solved everything.”

  Phillip cursed. “Please tell me Abigail doesn’t believe I abandoned her?”

  Sebastian winced.

  “I think it’s best you tell me what you’ve heard about my absence.” Phillip was itching to push past Sebastian and run up the stairs in search of Abigail. Torn between telling the love of his life that he wanted her more than oxygen and hearing why Sebastian wanted to shoot him was pure torture.

  “Abigail isn’t awake, Phillip. It seems that she hasn’t been sleeping, so she’s taking an afternoon nap. She also managed to faint and hit her head quite hard on the table. With a gash the size of my finger across the back of her head it’s a shock her recovery hasn’t taken longer.”

  Phillip darted toward the door.

  “Wait,” Sebastian said. “Sit. Let us discuss things first. It appears someone has been spreading rumors about your whereabouts.”

  Phillip wanted nothing more than to tell Sebastian to go to the devil while he ran up the stairs to make sure the precious girl was truly unharmed, but instead he sat. For Sebastian did not appear to take well to his presence, which could mean only one thing.

  “My stepmother has been busy, has she not?” Phillip said more than asked.

  “More than busy, I would say. Is there truth to anything?”

  Phillip cursed. “I don’t believe my stepmother knows the definition of the word truth, so caught up in lies and gossip she is. Why don’t you tell me the worst of it? Hmm?”

  “Your stepmother has been making an insane amount of house calls over the past four days. Spreading the rumor that you only needed to become betrothed to release your inheritance. She then said you’ve left the city with all the money. Abandoned her and your betrothed in the process.”

  “Are people stupid? Senile? Or just eager for any black mark against me to be true? That doesn’t make sense, Seb. Why would I waste all this time? Why would I drag it out and then finally choose Abigail?”

  “Revenge.”

  Phillip tensed. “I see by your statement it is safe to assume that everyone knows of the reasons behind your wife and my broken engagement all those years b
ack. And John.”

  Sebastian nodded.

  Phillip closed his eyes. “Is Emma well?”

  “She is.”

  “And you?”

  His eyes were still closed but Phillip could swear he heard Sebastian thinking. “Better now that I know the truth. Forgive me for not trusting you.”

  With a sarcastic laugh, Phillip opened his eyes. “Yes, because I’ve given you so many reasons to trust me, old friend.” He leaned back against the chair and took in the situation at hand. “What bothers me is how my mother managed to keep the note from getting into your hands. My servants are loyal. They won’t even let her get near the door. Whitmore on the other hand…” The spontaneous remark stopped Phillip cold. Could it be? But at what purpose?

  “What would he have to gain, Phillip?”

  “I’ve no idea, but my servants are quite familiar with him. And he isn’t above paying someone off. I need to return to my house, see if I can’t find out what happened.”

  “But first?” Sebastian nodded to the door.

  “Right, first I have a fiancée to kiss.”

  “Good man.” Sebastian chuckled as Phillip ran out of the room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Has society really gone that daft? To allow a matron of our society to spread such vicious lies and rumors is beyond my comprehension. It is evident that wisdom lies in those who listen more than speak.

  —Mrs. Peabody’s Society Papers

  A shrill scream escaped Abigail’s lips as she jolted awake. It had been this way since she heard the news of Rawlings’ abandonment. Sleep would overtake her, and she would awake thinking he was sitting next to her, only to find Emma with a worried smile, or worse an empty dark room.

  A hand reached out and touched her. She screamed again, thinking she had finally gone crazy, for she was absolutely certain when she had looked before falling asleep that there was nobody in the chair across from her.

  And then the weight of the bed seemed to shift. She looked to her right. Rawlings, alive and in person and as devilishly handsome as ever, was sitting next to her. A sad smile on his lips.

  “Abby, calm down, you’re safe, please calm down.” Rawlings warm breath fanned across her face. “You need rest, love.”

  “Leave me, just leave me.” Abigail’s voice was raspy.

  “I will not.”

  “Now!”

  “I cannot.”

  “Rawlings…” Her voice was a mere whimper.

  “No.”

  Abigail was too tired to fight. Lying back down, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the room. It was then that she realized she had been squeezing them shut the entire time. Abigail managed to open one and then both eyes. Rawlings was sitting on her bed, worry etched on his handsome face. What was he doing here? Hadn’t he left town? Taking all the money with him?

  “Love, at least open your eyes again so I can look at you, I mean truly gaze into their splendor.”

  Abigail laughed bitterly. “Now I know I am dreaming. Phillip Rawlings does not waste time with pretty words when he could be seducing the wits out of a woman.”

  “Doesn’t he?” Rawlings asked. “Hmm, it seems in this case my reputation has again tainted me. For I am first a man of passionate words, and second a man of seduction.”

  Abigail felt herself falter as her heart began to melt at his words. It was against her own will because she knew the walls around her heart needed to be erect, not that she felt it beating anyway. While she imagined it was, several times in her dreams she had begged it to stop. Then at least the hurt would leave her as Rawlings had.

  The warm familiarity of his body made her recoil and she attempted to jerk away from the comfort it brought.

  “Come here,” he encouraged.

  She curled tighter away from him.

  Phillip rose from the bed with a curse and stalked over to the door. With a click, he locked them in and returned to the bed, pulling her tightly into her arms.

  “Words fail me, Abby. I never thought a heart could break as mine is now, feeling you shy away from me, knowing you despise me. When I am undone, completely and forever yours.”

  Abigail turned into his embrace. “Why are you here? Did you need to come back to examine the damage of your sins?”

  “No. It seems I forgot something important.” His smile was confident as he reached out and caressed her cheek. “It also appears the letter I left for you was never delivered, meaning I must tell you in person how I feel about you, the plans I have for us, and my desire to wed you as soon as possible.”

  Abigail darted up, nearly knocking her head against his. “What? I don’t understand. You left, your stepmother—”

  “Is a beast and a liar, has been lying to me for the past five years.”

  Abigail shuddered. “Rawlings, do you know what she’s been saying?”

  He placed his hands on Abigail’s shoulders, pushing her down into the mattress once again. “I do. Sebastian has been gracious enough to fill me in. That is, after he threatened to shoot me. I even saw the pistol in his hand. Terribly frightening, might I add, considering I’ve always been worried about him killing me one of these days.”

  The corners of his mouth melted into a lazy smile as he leaned toward her hair and breathed in its scent. “I’ve missed you, love.”

  Abigail couldn’t respond. Her body seemed unable to move as he gingerly played with her hair and rained kisses of devotion down her throat.

  “I will deal with my mother. Just know that before she went and ruined everything, I had every intention of coming here straightaway, but was given a note from my father. A note, might I add, that my stepmother hadn’t informed me of. It just so happens I’ve never needed to marry in order to gain my inheritance, nor have I been a pauper all this time as I suspected. My stepmother, however, has been taking funds without my knowledge this entire time, and has allowed all the estates to nearly hit ruin.”

  Holding her lip captive between her teeth, Abigail nodded. “So you were visiting your estates to make sure they were not in shambles, and you sent a note?”

  “Explaining everything.” He laughed and brought her hand, the same hand he had been teasing days before, to his lips. “Shall I tell you what it said?”

  “Yes, please.” Abigail’s voice shook as he moved from the bed to the floor and went down on one knee.

  “My dearest love, forever mine. Although the recent discovery proves I need not marry, I find my heart is not in agreement with the words written on paper. For my soul, my heart, every breath in my possession already belongs to you. How could I deny myself the joy of having you as my wife merely because I no longer have to? Love, Abigail Gates. I do not love you because I choose to. I love you because I cannot help it. It seems my heart made the choice for me long ago. And I am forever yours. So I kneel before you, not as an earl or a man of wealth, but just a man. A ruined, debauched, sinful man, who has finally found forgiveness, joy, and hope in the one woman who saw the man and not the façade. I kneel. I humble myself before the woman who saw the redemption that was possible.” He took her hands. “Will you do the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Abigail was without words, shocked into silence, until she finally was able to say, “That was some letter.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “It said all of that?”

  Rawlings smirked. “I may have exaggerated some parts. What can I say, I’m moved by love.”

  Abigail, with all the strength she had, pulled Rawlings up from the floor and onto the bed. His body reacted immediately to her invitation. Dark, desire filled eyes pierced her own, as he kissed her hungrily.

  “I miss the way we breathe together,” Rawlings said roughly against her mouth. “The feel of your lips between my teeth.” He groaned. “The smell of your neck—I could devour you. Abigail, I missed everything about you.”

  He brushed the hair away from her face. “Rawlings?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Never do that to me again.”

 
Opening her mouth to his, he kissed her again before answering, “Never.”

  All at once, he turned on his side and pulled her onto his body, stripping the blankets from her. “I need to see you, to feel you…do you understand?”

  He started a slow, torturous exploration up her arms until he reached the short sleeves of her afternoon dress. With a tear, he pulled them from her shoulders, revealing part of her chemise. Hands moved up her neck slowly, burning their way down until he reached the expanse of her bosom. It was pure agony as he skipped the part she most wanted touched and moved down to her waist.

  “Are you merely trying to tease me, my lord?”

  “No, merely restraining myself before I take your virginity under Sebastian’s roof. I’m aware he still has his pistol with him. All we need is for your screams and moans to make him come charging up here.”

  “Ladies do not scream or moan,” Abigail said as his hands moved down her hips to her legs and then gently pulled up her skirts.

  “Oh they don’t?”

  “Absolutely not,” Abigail said, though her voice sounded shaky.

  “Hmm.” He let his hands creep further and further up until she started panicking. What was he doing? He couldn’t be…

  And then she screamed. Rawlings laughed as he put his hand firmly over her mouth. “I thought ladies didn’t scream.” She glared at him. “Hmm, it seems we’ll have to explore this further when we marry before the end of the week.”

  “As in?”

  “Three days, the day of the De Creaux ball, if that is agreeable?”

  Abigail laughed just as a knock came on the door. “Rawlings! I heard her screaming! If you touch her before you are to be married, I will make use of this pistol!”

  “Told you.” Rawlings winked, and then helped himself off the bed, but not before he turned, grabbed Abigail by the waist, and crushed her against his hard, muscled body. “Until we marry?”