“Shall we discuss the way forward?” Uncle Philip cut into her musings. She looked to him, seeing that his face was pale and gaunt with worry. She smiled reassuringly at him, conversely feeling heartened by his show of concern.
“It will be all right, Uncle. After all, I am innocent.”
Uncle Philip cast her a jaundiced glance but said nothing.
Percival took a deep breath. “We have a few contingencies in case that does not suffice.”
“Contingencies? Like what?”
Percival, her mother, and her uncle exchanged glances between them, making Abigail wonder when they had become thick as thieves.
“Well, some of my…associates are looking into ways that we can get the charges dropped. In the meantime, to delay your sentencing for as long as possible…” Uncle Phillip said before glancing at Percival.
“We thought it prudent to provide you with the belly plea.” Percival finished for him.
“What?” Abigail knew that her voice was quite high but she could not believe what she was hearing.
“They cannot execute you if you’re pregnant.” Uncle Phillip said and Abigail turned to glare at him before looking to her mother to see what she thought of all this. Joan avoided her eye, her cheeks coloring.
“You’re very quiet, Mother. Have you nothing to say to this?”
Joan shook her head, her eyes shining with tears. “I would not wish this choice on anyone, let alone my only child. But if it is a choice between the belly plea or your life, I know which one I would choose.”
Percival took a step toward her and she turned to face him.
“They will not grant us a special license with the trial hanging over you like the sword of Damocles, and so I propose that we travel to Gretna Green.”
“Gretna Green?” Abigail repeated faintly, “Are you sure you still want to marry me?”
Percival smiled. “I think I have never been surer of anything in my life.”
* * *
Percival was in his office that evening, lost in thought. Abigail was obligated to stay within his residence and so she had gone home with her mother to pack some clothes. Lady Stanley would be sufficient chaperone should they need one and seeing as Abigail enceinte could only be advantageous, no one was exerting themselves to get between them.
Of course, he had yet to inform his aunt of their new house guest.
Something tells me she will not be pleased.
A tentative knock had him turning toward the door. It was surely too early for Abigail to be back already.
“Enter.”
Henry stuck his head inside the door. “Percival, old man, do you have a moment for your dear cousin?”
Percival smiled. “I think I can find one to spare. What can I do for you?”
Henry stepped in the room. “I need to discuss something with you. It is to do with your belle.”
Percival could not help the frown that marred his forehead. “And what about her?”
“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 t
ook 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 with 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 a
t 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.
Secret Confessions 0f The Enticing Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 23
