by Lisa Reisner
When Marcus spotted Jane, a look of surprise came over his face. He obviously thought Abigail would be by herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I thought you were alone.”
Was she imagining things, or did he sound disappointed? Abigail had to stifle a laugh. It was a rare occurrence that any man was less than thrilled to be in Jane’s company. “No need for an apology.” Abigail looked to Jane. “Miss Whitworth is a very dear friend of mine. She is only in London for a brief time and I invited her to stop by.” Abigail realized that she never discussed with Marcus if it was all right to accept visitors. “I hope that is alright with you?”
“Of course,” Marcus replied without hesitation. He turned his attention towards Jane. “I am sorry; I think I must have been incredibly rude a moment ago.” Marcus bestowed Jane with a friendly smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Whitworth. Please enjoy the rest of your visit.”
Jane gave Marcus a measuring look. “Thank you, my lord. It is also very nice to meet you. It means a great deal that Abigail can be spared from her duties for a short while. I treasure her company.”
“A thank you is not necessary. Olivia is happily ensconced in the kitchen, covered in a layer of flour. So please enjoy the rest of your visit.” Marcus made a slight bow and walked towards the door, but before he left, he made one request. “Miss Jenner, when you have a moment after your guest leaves, please come to my study.”
Abigail’s skin prickled with anticipation. Why did she feel more alive in his company than she had ever felt before? “Certainly, my lord.”
Jane waited a whole ten seconds after Marcus closed the door to speak. “No wonder you have lost your head. That man is handsome beyond all reason.” Jane grinned and took a sip of tea. “It would take an iron will to stay away from him. Well, I will take it as a good sign that it appears he only has eyes for you.” Jane paused and thoughtfully added, “Of course, one can hardly blame him when greeted with such beauty.”
“You really think Marcus only has eyes for me?”
“So, it is Marcus now,” Jane teased. “You would have to be blind not to notice. The man could hardly tear his gaze away from you.” Jane’s calm demeanor suddenly turned serious. “Please Abigail. Promise me that you will be careful.”
“I will try.” Abigail knew it was one promise she was likely not to keep.
Chapter 12
Marcus was having difficulty concentrating on the pile of business correspondence that had built up while he was away. His mind was better occupied with a pair of radiant lavender eyes.
During the past few weeks, he had worked tirelessly to repair the damage to his coal mine and to prevent another collapse from happening in the future. A person would assume he simply did not have the time during the day to think of Abigail and they would be correct. He did not think of her during the day because he was too busy dreaming of her at night.
Intense, hot dreams filled with images of vigorous lovemaking. Marcus shifted in his chair as his arousal strained against his trousers. I need her tonight. Once I bed her a few times this insatiable need for her will die down.
Marcus was concerned that Abigail had time to consider what had occurred the night before he left. By now she had probably come to her senses and realized the downside of having an affair with him. So, it was going to be up to him to convince her.
A delicate tap sounded at the door. He knew it was her. Pull yourself together. You are one of the shrewdest businessmen in England; how hard could it be to persuade a mere woman to come to your bed? “Come in.”
She looked lovely and sweet, wearing a simple pale pink gown. He wanted to run his fingers through her lustrous hair and put her back on top of his desk like the last time they were alone together. Abigail would probably run away screaming if she knew his hungry thoughts.
“You requested to see me, my lord,” Abigail said, placing a folder on his desk. “Those are Olivia’s progress reports for the past few weeks. She has been doing extremely well ever since the night of...” Abigail’s voice trailed off and her face turned beet red. “Ever since her nightmare.”
Marcus thought her innocent blush made her look even more desirable. It displeased him that Abigail felt any shame in what had happened between them. They were both adults and their actions had been normal and natural. A part of him wanted to walk over to her and steal a kiss, to somehow reassure her of his genuine desire for her, but he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on Olivia. “I am glad she is doing well. Olivia was very happy to tell me about her lessons while I was away. I was concerned about leaving her for such a lengthy period, but it was unavoidable.”
“Of course, it was, Lord Everton. The entire staff felt awful that such a terrible event occurred. How are the men that were injured?” Abigail asked with genuine concern.
“It is kind of you to ask. Thankfully no one was seriously hurt. My physician will remain in Surrey to monitor the minor injuries that were sustained.” Marcus frowned. “Are we back to Lord Everton? In private I would like it if you addressed me as Marcus.”
“In all honesty I find myself having trouble knowing how to act around you, including how to address you,” Abigail said with frankness. “I seem to be very bad at this.”
“Just be yourself. I am fond of you just as you are,” Marcus encouraged. “And what is it you seem to think you are bad at?”
Abigail hesitated for a moment. “Seducing you, my lord.” Abigail bit her lip and appeared flustered. “I probably should be batting my eyelashes or wearing something a bit more risqué, but that just doesn’t seem to feel right.”
Marcus was caught off guard. Of all the things he expected her to say, “seducing him” was not one of them. Especially when he thought he was going to have to convince her to start an affair. There was something so refreshing about her candor, no coy glances or female trickery, just straightforward honesty.
Abigail Jenner was definitely full of surprises. He wondered what that would translate to in the bedroom. His body burned just thinking about it. “Come here Abigail,” Marcus commanded in a husky voice. Abigail walked over to where he was seated and in one quick swoop she was placed on his lap. “I must disagree with you. I think you are an excellent seductress.” His lips covered her in a devouring kiss. She felt magnificent in his arms, he wanted to lift her skirts and bury himself deep inside her, but he had more respect for her than to treat her like a common trollop. Besides, Marcus knew that anyone could knock at the door and interrupt them, and he did not want anymore interruptions.
With all the control he could muster, Marcus tore himself from her lips and positioned her back on her feet. “Please come to my room tonight. I think it is imperative that we have the proper privacy.” Abigail’s shoulders trembled, but she looked directly into his eyes and agreed.
Marcus watched the gentle sway of her hips as she left the room. His body ached with raw need. Abigail Jenner was going to be his tonight.
∞
The mantel clock chimed a gentle reminder of the lateness of the hour. Abigail dabbed rose water on her neck and whispered to her reflection in the mirror. “It will be splendid. There is no cause to be nervous.”
Abigail tried to combat the butterflies in her stomach. Earlier, she had acted boldly and with conviction in Lord Everton’s study; now she felt like a naïve schoolgirl that was in way over her head.
She had always imagined her first lovemaking experience would be with her husband. It could have been a tender and dutiful experience sanctioned by the bonds of matrimony, but for obvious reasons that would never come to pass. Abigail never anticipated a night like this was in store for her.
Her heart tugged inside her chest. She had always hoped true love would be present when she gave herself to a man. It was clear Marcus desired her body, but she longed to be needed, she longed to be loved. Abigail knew such a notion was ridiculous. She was still married for God’s sake, so what would be the point of requiring such a deep emotion? All she could re
ally hope for was a night of passion spent in the arms of a man that intrigued her more than anyone she had ever known. That would just have to be enough.
Abigail pushed aside those unproductive thoughts and focused on the tangible as she gazed down at her lavender negligee. Included in the numerous gowns that Lady Sunderland had given her were several nightgowns. Some were very modest, but this was clearly intended to be worn by a married woman. The transparent garment clung to every curve and her full breasts nearly spilled out of the low-cut neckline.
An anxious giggle escaped from her. She may be inexperienced, but it did not take a trained courtesan to realize most men would be driven wild by such an article of clothing. Abigail wondered if Marcus was like “most men” and if she could handle such behavior. The thought made her both eager and edgy to find out the answer.
She stared at her white silk slippers and willed herself to stand. She put on her prim white cotton wrapper and took a deep breath. Stop being a coward, Abigail thought to herself as she walked into the hallway.
She looked in each direction and sighed with relief that no one else was there. Abigail wasn’t so much concerned with what others would think of her, but for Olivia’s sake she wanted to act with complete discretion. When she arrived at Marcus’s door, she felt satisfied that no one had seen her.
Marcus must have sensed her nearness because he opened his door just as she was about to knock. Their gazes met and he quietly beckoned her into the room. “I thought you might be having second thoughts,” Marcus suggested as he closed the door.
Abigail took in Marcus’s appearance. He had removed his cravat and the top buttons to his crisp white shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of his well muscled chest. Lord Marcus Everton was everything a man should be and more. “I was having some doubts, but I think that is normal given the circumstances. However, I believe I made the right decision by coming here tonight.”
Abigail glanced about and decided that his room suited him perfectly. In the center was an enormous four poster mahogany bed, draped in a deep burgundy coverlet. The furniture was all handcrafted from rosewood with intricate brass fixtures. The design was clearly meant to suit a man’s taste.
Abigail spied a tray of cheeses and dried fruits laid out on an elegant Demilune table that sat between two large leather chairs. “Please have a seat,” Marcus encouraged. “Would you care for some sherry?”
Abigail got the impression Marcus was tense. “I would like that very much.” Abigail accepted the glass from Marcus and took a big sip, hoping the potent liquid would bolster her courage. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you seem a little off. Are you having second thoughts?”
Marcus sat down, facing opposite her and thoughtfully fixed his eyes on her face. “Not exactly.” Marcus grinned and Abigail felt a little more at ease. “It is just that I know so very little about you.” He took a swallow of his scotch. “I must admit it was never a prerequisite for me to know every detail of my former lovers’ lives, but for some reason I would like to get to know you better.”
Abigail’s head pounded and her stomach tied up with knots. What in bloody hell was she going to tell him? Oh, by the way, I recently faked my death and ran away from my husband. “What would you like to know?” Stay calm. You can do this.
Marcus laughed. “I am not really sure. When is your birthday?” What is your favorite color?” Marcus’s expression turned more serious. “What was your life like before you came here? Tell me about your marriage.”
Abigail tried to relax. The first questions would at least be easy. “My birthday is actually next week, the first of May. I will be the ripe old age of one and twenty. When is your birthday, Marcus? How old are you?” Abigail noticed that his stare turned sensual when she used his given name.
“I am one and thirty and I will gain further antique status on July the fifteenth,” Marcus joked. “Go on, tell me more.”
“My favorite color has been green ever since my grandfather gave me this.” Abigail lifted a small cross from her neck to give Marcus a closer look. “It has a tiny emerald at the center, my birthstone. My grandfather said the gem would bring me hope, love and prosperity.”
“So, has it done its job?” Marcus asked and then he shuddered. “I am so sorry. It slipped by mind you were just widowed. My question was in very poor taste.”
Abigail hated the fact that he should be made to feel bad over the web of lies she had created. His cobalt eyes seemed so understanding. It made her want to come clean and tell him the truth, but she knew that was impossible. She decided the best way to handle his questions was to be as honest as she could be. “Please, do not feel sorry. In truth, my marriage was a very unhappy one.”
“It is hard to picture you unhappy. You always seem so optimistic and content.”
“I would normally agree with your assumptions of me, but certain situations can strain someone’s true character. Don’t you agree?”
Marcus’s mood became pensive. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”
Abigail knew exactly what Marcus was brooding over. “You are thinking of your brother?”
“Yes,” Marcus confirmed with bitterness.
Abigail wanted more than a one-word response from him. She needed to understand the source of Marcus’s pain. “I understand how excruciating it is to lose someone you love.” Abigail took another fortifying sip of wine. “You may hate me for asking, but why are you so angry at your brother?”
Marcus’s head snapped up and he came to his feet. “You are mistaken. I am not angry with my brother. I am angry with myself.”
Abigail could feel Marcus’s inner turmoil. She could either change the subject or press him further. Abigail chose the latter because she truly believed she could help him. “Why?”
Marcus grabbed his drink and walked over to the large bay window. He peered out into the dark London night. “Because I failed him.”
Abigail could hear the hurt in his voice. Her heart started to feel the pain he felt, as if she shared in his struggle. It became imperative for her to know every detail that had caused Marcus to punish himself with endless blame. “In what way did you fail your brother?”
Abigail sensed the reluctance in his countenance. He did not turn around to face her, even when he started to speak. “You said just moments ago certain situations have the ability to change people.”
“Yes, but I am not sure what that has do with your brother’s death.”
Marcus turned around and looked Abigail in the eye. “Stephen could always count on me to watch over him. I was always the dependable older brother. He could never count on our parents to protect him against anything, even when he was a young child, so I always did. I should have kept him safe, but I allowed my lust for a woman to change me into an irresponsible fool.”
Abigail imagined Marcus as a lonely little boy. Who took care of him when he was growing up? His words had piqued her interest about his childhood, but she needed to focus on the matter at hand, and at present Abigail was very confused. “I am not sure what you mean. When didn’t you keep him safe and what does a woman have to do with the situation?”
Marcus’s voice was filled with regret. “I was young and stupid when I met Marissa. She was several years older, and I was immediately taken in by her sophistication and exotic beauty.” Marcus cringed at the memory. “I was so blinded by desire that I failed to notice she was stealing wartime information from me, right under my nose. Marissa was a spy for the French. She gave them the strategies I developed that were implemented in the battle that took my brother’s life. He would be alive today if it were not for my carelessness.”
Abigail’s throat felt dry. She felt an immediate resentment for this treacherous female. Who could do such a despicable deed? “You can’t take the blame for the disgraceful actions of another person.”
Marcus’ nostrils flared in anger. “But I am to blame, for everything! I should have known what she was, yet I allowed myself to be duped. It was my d
uty to protect my brother and the hundreds of other men that were slaughtered. It should have been me that died that day, not them.”
Abigail finally understood the depth of his self-loathing and could not allow him to take on the responsibility for the bloodshed another had caused. She racked her brain to come up with a way to make him see things more clearly. Abigail thought of a time in her past when she was also burdened by an enormous amount of guilt. She rarely shared her painful memories with anyone, but she knew her personal story could help shed some light on his current plight.
“I remember the day my parents died like it was yesterday,” Abigail’s mood turned wistful as her statement caught Marcus’s full attention. “It was a typical Sunday and I was up to my usual mischievous behavior. I thought it would be a great idea to make mud pies in the garden. Of course, my mother didn’t, she shrieked when she found me covered head to toe with dirt. Mother couldn’t bring me to church in such condition, so she had to bathe and redress me. We ran well over thirty minutes late because of my antics.” Abigail’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “Had I behaved properly, we would have been on time and never would have collided into an out-of-control carriage that seemed to come out of nowhere.” Abigail paused to clear her throat and then walked toward Marcus. She needed to drive her point home. “Do you think I should take the blame for my parents’ death or do you think it is the fault of the coachman who decided to drink a bottle of spirits for his morning meal?”
All signs of anger faded away and Marcus’s face became a mask of sympathy. “Of course, you were not to blame. Driving a coach while intoxicated is downright reckless and shows a lack of concern for the basic safety of others. Besides, you cannot compare the two. You were a mere child, while I was a grown man. My conduct lacked caution and my behavior was neglectful.”
Abigail reached for his hand and pressed it against her heart. She wanted to absorb his agony and make him feel only joy. “You behaved like a human being. Your nature is kind, Marcus, that is why you did not detect such darkness in another.” Abigail’s hand went to his cheek. She was not certain of many things, but there was nowhere on earth she would rather be than here with this man. “I am sure your brother would tell you the same if he were here.” Her fingers began caressing the harsh stubble on his face. “You are an extraordinary man, Marcus, and believe me, I have become a very tough judge of character.”
