Well, perhaps that last part wasn't true either. Adam could admit that he was not the most open and welcoming man ever to walk the Earth. And he had made some rather callous remarks over the years, even when he hadn't meant to do so.
Which was all the more reason that he needed to think, to try to figure out how to best salvage his reputation and then what to do about Abigail. For after that morning, it was clear to him that he had to have her. The idea of De La Croix hurting her made his blood boil. Still, even though he did not deserve her, he would do his best to change her mind about retreating to Wales.
They would court and, well...to be honest he had been bound to Lady Diana for so long that he had no idea what he would do. He had never really courted a woman before. His mistresses and those other lightskirts he had dallied with over the years didn't exactly count. Still, he would figure it out. And then he and Abigail.... Well, if he had his way, he would bed her. Though whether she would agree to that without being wed was another matter entirely. Then again, she did say that she wanted to retreat from Society. So perhaps she would not care as long as they were discreet.
Ah, it was a big mess and once more, Adam had no idea how he had ended up in the middle of it. All he knew was that he needed time to sort it all out.
Except that he hadn't been given time. Or the opportunity to find the library. Instead, Lord Hunt, Rayne, Mr. Greer, and Berkshire had sought him out. They needed a fifth man to practice with them since they intended to enter the relay swimming and rowing competition against one of the neighboring estates the following week, just before the house party ended, and they were now down a man after an unfortunate accident.
The swimming portion of the so-called Fairhaven Cup Relay was legendary in these parts, the estate's massive lake far too large for one man to swim from end to end safely. Seemingly ages ago, when word of the challenging lake got out, male guests from Crestfield Hall, a neighboring estate that also happened to hold a house party at the same time each year, had gotten the idea to challenge the men at the Fairhaven house party to an endurance race. The estates could field as many men as they liked, may the best man win. Which had been a splendid idea until the Viscount Killington, the rather aged owner of Crestfield at that time, had almost drown one year, his body giving out nearly half way across the inky black water. He had not been the first to take ill during the competition, but he had been the one that had come the closest to drowning.
He had also not been the viscount much longer after that, his time in the lake putting a greater strain on his health than anyone had realized.
Eventually, someone had come up with the idea of a five-man relay team, one team from each estate. That way, only the best swimmers could participate and the possibility of anyone dying on the lake was greatly reduced. On the day of the race, a canoe would be rowed across the lake, depositing each of the men at equal intervals across the lake. Then, at the sound of a pistol shot, the first man, who had remained on the shore, would dive in to the deep end of the lake and swim out until he was close enough to touch the next man on his team, and so it would continue until the final man on the team reached the opposite shore first.
For the last three years running, Fairhaven had lost in rather spectacular fashion, but this year with the new Marquess of Buxton - a strapping young lad just back from a tour of the Continent and new to his title - swimming for the estate, most people believed they had a chance. Except that the previous night while Adam had been kissing Abigail in the labyrinth, Buxton had been indulging in a bit too much scotch and had fallen down a set of steep servant's stairs and broken his arm. No one knew quite what the man had been doing on those stairs - though there were plenty of guesses, of course - but the result was that the Fairhaven relay team was now down a man. Since Adam had done some swimming at Eton, he was, of course, the natural choice for a replacement.
The idea of participating in something where he was actually welcomed was far too tempting to Adam for him to pass up. Until that moment when Lord Hunt had all but begged Adam to agree to take Buxton's place, Adam hadn't realized how much he had missed his friends and the acceptance they brought. He shouldn't care really. He was a duke. He did as he pleased.
Except that in the last few weeks, ever since his fall from social grace, he realized that he did care - to a degree. He did not need the approval of everyone certainly, but he also didn't care for being shunned and thought of as a horrid monster of a man. Or worse, a rogue. Especially not if he hoped to marry one day, which he did. He had an obligation to those who depended upon the dukedom after all.
So at Hunt's urging, Adam had spent the majority of his day practicing with the other members of the relay team. This sporting event was one of the few that anyone took seriously and they practiced for hours under the hot English sun. By the time they were all ready to call it a day and prepare for the musicale that evening, all five members of the team were exhausted to the point that they could barely stand up.
Even now, Adam was uncertain how he had made it through dinner without falling asleep in his main course, especially with how hot the blasted house was. Even with all of the terrace doors and windows open, the heat was stultifying and oppressive, and he heard more than one guest remark that they wished they could simply skip the musicale since the string quartet was rumored to be uncommonly bad.
Adam very much wished that he could do so as well, but with his new-found goodwill over the incidents with both Selby and De La Croix increasing his social standing, he decided that he did not dare. Instead, he escorted two ladies, a Miss Coventry, who was another friend of Lady Enwright's but was also extremely shy, and Lady Adelaide, who suffered from a rather pronounced limp so that she did not walk as fast as the others, into the ballroom and found them seats as close to the terrace doors as possible.
Was his escort of them another one of his "good deeds" as he was beginning to think of them? Perhaps. At the same time, however, he was also beginning to see the value in being...well...nice, for lack of a better word.
In the past, Adam had been many things, but "nice" had never been one of them. Strong, commanding and decisive? Yes, he had been those things. Others likely would have called him demanding and autocratic, as well as arrogant, snobbish, and, on occasion, cuttingly mean. He had been all those things as well. However, it wasn't until he had lost all of his social standing that he had come to understand that there was something to be said for being nice as well.
Until that moment with Lady Diana, everyone had been nice to him - whether they really wanted to be or not. It was simply expected because he was a duke. Then, he had proven himself to be the worse sort of rogue and even his title could not prevent the scorn that had been heaped upon him. And for the first time, Adam began to understand that there was more to life than having things all his own way. And that he missed people being nice to him. Even if it was just because he was a duke.
Since he had awoken on Fairhaven's front lawn under the watchful eye of Abigail, Adam had toyed with the notion that perhaps he truly needed to change his behavior and not just make the half-hearted attempts he had been playing at before. At least change it a little. When he had been looked upon favorably once more after it became known that Lord Selby was, perhaps, not the best choice of a husband for Sophia, Adam was certain that he was on to something.
In the last few days, he had discovered that there was something pleasing about being nice. The fact that it garnered him more favorable opinions from those at the house party did not hurt either. So tonight when Miss Coventry and Lady Adelaide had been looking longing at the ballroom and then began to make their way their together, Adam had been overtaken by the urge to be nice - and not just because it would give him yet more goodwill, but rather because he wanted to be nice. He didn't want these two young ladies having the shame of walking into the musicale unescorted. If he could raise their stock a bit by being seen - however briefly - on the arm of a duke, then he saw no harm in it. And if it made them happy, so much the
better. From the way they were both smiling just now, he had clearly made them extremely happy.
"That was a nice thing you did for those young ladies, Adam."
He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Abigail's voice behind him. He hadn't seen her since the music room and he ached to take her in his arms and ask if she was doing well. "Abby."
Even in the darkness, he could see her blush, the color a delightful contrast against her pale yellow evening gown. "I like it when you call me that. No one else ever has."
"It suits you," he shrugged, as if her pleasure didn't matter. Though it did. He liked the idea that he was the first man to use that nickname with her. "I was wondering how you were."
She gave him a wan smile. "I am well. Tired, for the ladies have been fussing over me all day, but there are no ill effects after this morning."
Adam glanced around the ballroom, which was already stuffed with humanity and close to overflowing. The two ladies he had escorted in were already chatting amiably with young men he did not know but looked respectable enough. That was enough good deeds for the moment, he decided.
"Walk with me." It was a command, not a request and the moment he offered Abigail his arm, she took it without comment.
Together they meandered to the edge of the ballroom and then slipped out into an adjacent and unused parlor by way of a small passageway, likely left over from the original Norman-era construction of the house. In here, the air was slightly cooler, with several windows having been left open, likely to help provide air to the larger ballroom beyond. They weren't helping the other room in the least, so Adam gently closed the connecting door so that he and Abigail could have some privacy.
"Thank you," she said before he had even finished locking the door. "Without you, I do not know what would have become of me this morning." Abigail shuddered to think of how close she had come to such a horrible violation.
"You would have survived brilliantly," Adam assured her, even though his words rang false to his own ears. "You are a strong and capable woman."
Abigail shook her head. "But I am a woman and therefore vulnerable." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, Adam..." She could not finish the rest and instead launched herself into his arms without hesitation.
He opened to her, gathering her close and inhaling the light lavender scent that seemed to follow her wherever she went. "Shhh. Abby, it is alright. Everything is well."
"But...but...." She gulped in a deep breath for she could not go on. She only hoped that he understood what she was trying to say.
"I will protect you, Abby. I swear. He shall never come near you again." This time when Adam tucked her against him, he shifted her slightly so that she did not feel the hard length of his erection pressing into her leg. For a woman who was almost defiled, he did not think that was the most appropriate thing at the moment.
Except that Abigail seemed to have different ideas, for she shifted again in his arms until she was flush against him. "I may be frightened, Adam, but do not treat me like a child or as if I do not know my own mind. I am a fully-grown woman and, until this morning, I think we both know where this relationship was headed."
Well, Adam certainly knew where he wished for it to go, though he was a bit shocked to hear Abigail admit such a thing. "I had hoped, certainly," he stumbled around for the right words, "but I did not suspect that you... That is to say I did not think you would..."
"That I would be willing to lie with you?" Abigail pulled back and this time when she looked at him, all of the fear he had seen earlier was gone from her eyes. Instead, all he saw was a fiery determination and a heated desire that could not be mistaken for anything else.
"Something like that." It was Adam's turn to swallow hard. "Abigail, where is this coming from? Yes, we have kissed and touched a bit, but that has been it. I did not think that I had given you any indication that I would dishonor you in that way." He paused. "Did I?" He hoped not, for if he had, well, then that likely meant that he was an even greater cad than he had first assumed.
She cocked her head. "No, Adam. With you, you have been nothing short of the perfect gentleman. But you are a man, and I am not so foolish as to believe that you do not think about me in that fashion. I see the look in your eyes. It is one I am well familiar with after a few Seasons around men who see me as nothing more than a cheap doxy for their amusement."
"I am sorry." He had no idea what he was apologizing for, but it seemed the thing to do. "Men, for the most part, are cads. Some are merely worse than others." He spoke from experience on that last point.
"I know." Abigail dipped her head for a moment, but then glanced back up so that she might look him in the eye. "That does not mean, however, that I am against the idea." She bit her lip. Well, after that morning she still wasn't at any rate. "At least not with the right man."
Adam was so shocked she could have knocked him to the floor with one finger. "Are you telling me that you want me to deflower you?" Of all of the things she could have said, this was among the most shocking. Ladies, especially ladies like Abigail, did not speak of such things.
"I have since the moment I saw you lying nearly naked among Lucy's phlox and sweat peas," Abigail confessed, certain that she was blushing. It felt freeing to admit her secret desire, but altogether shameful at the same time. "I never thought to act upon the impulse, mind you. Not that I didn't want to, but rather because I knew I should not."
Suddenly, understanding dawned. "Then De La Croix attacked you."
Abigail placed a hand on his chest. "Please. Hear me out." She swallowed hard. "After this morning, it all became so clear to me, and I realized what I would be missing if I did not at least...ask. But not of any man. Just of you."
If nothing else, the events of the day had made clear to Abigail that it was likely that, despite her wish to remain a spinster, one day soon, she might very well find herself either wed to man she did not care for or backed into a corner with a man and no Adam around to rescue her. If either of those fates befell her, with marriage being the more likely of the two? Well, Abigail had decided that she wanted something of her own, some memory that she could cherish into the now-murky future before her. She wanted a night of passion and love with a man she desired. That man was Adam. And likely always would be.
Adam shook his head. "Do not let that man's despicable actions guide yours, Abby. What he attempted to do was an act of violence. Not pleasure."
"I know that," she replied, softly, "but at the same time, it drove home what I knew all along - that when I am deflowered, for it will happen at some point and I am not so foolish as to believe otherwise - I want to be the one in control of the who and the why. Not someone else that my family has decided that I must marry or a man who thinks to trap me into marriage by force."
"I thought you said your family wouldn't force you to marry. That they accepted you becoming a spinster." A deep frown marred Adam's handsome face.
Abigail didn't want to say anything about the contents of her mother's letter that morning. If she did, she was afraid that he would accuse her of using someone else's actions to drive her own. That might be true, but that didn't mean she still didn't want him to bed her.
"Things change," she said finally, "and what is acceptable today might not be tomorrow. You of all people should know this."
Something about this entire situation didn't quite sit right with Adam. However, in the dim light of the room, with Abigail standing before him looking so utterly delectable and soft, he found that his newfound wish to be respectable in all things was suddenly deserting him.
"If I do this," he finally managed, "then we will do it right. I will court you or at the very least spend time with you, if you do not want to be seen too often in my company. Then, when the time is right, we will share a night of passion." He cleared his throat, trying his best to be as noble as possible. "What I refuse to do is tumble you here or on a couch or in a garden as if you are some common whore. You are a lady, Abby, and you
deserve nothing less."
Deep in the area around his heart, Adam already knew that he would come to regret this decision, but he also knew that he would give her what she asked for in the end. Unlike other women, Abigail was not asking for a promise of marriage or anything else from him. And she, unlike other women, had the most to lose if he got her with child during their brief affair because she did not have the protection of a family's title to keep her safe. However, it was clear that she still wanted this. Moreover, that she wanted him.
And, God help him, he wanted her just as badly. He had from that first moment he had glimpsed her in the garden and she had set his blood on fire.
"So will you?" she asked as she moved closer, this time being so bold as to cup him through his trousers. Time was of the essence and, as of that morning, her mind had been made up. "I promise I will ask nothing else of you and no one else need know."
But he would know. Still, in the end, Adam could not refuse her. "Yes, my darling Abby, I shall give you what you want." She grinned and he held up a finger to caution her. "But it will be on my terms and when I believe the time is right."
Then, to make certain that she understood that he was the one in control here, he drew her tightly to him and kissed her as if he could never get enough. And, he thought to himself, he doubted that he ever could. In that moment, with Abigail's arms wrapped around his neck and her lush, sweet body pressed against his, Adam knew that he was in even greater trouble than he had ever suspected. However he did not regret a single moment of it. Not at all.
Chapter Eleven
Town Tattler
News these days is a bit slow, dear readers, and I fear that my time with you as your humble correspondent for all things of Society is coming to an end - for the moment anyway. Yes, I have decided to take some time away from my duties here at the Tattler. As many of you have already correctly guessed, I am one of you. And I, too, often tire of the seemingly endless social whirl. So it is time for me to make changes in my life. After all, I am not getting any younger! If, when next Season comes around, I am able, I shall return to you. If not? Then I can truly say that we had a good run of it, did we not?
The Kiss of a Rogue Page 16
