by Lisa Reisner
Abigail swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. “I never meant to lie to you, Marcus. It is last thing I ever wanted to do, but I was afraid of how you would react, and I was so ashamed.”
Marcus smoothed back a tendril of Abigail’s hair. “Ashamed. You have no reason in the world to be ashamed. I think you are the bravest person I have ever known.”
Abigail shook her head in disagreement. “I am not brave. I did what I had to do to survive. Anyone would have done the same thing.”
“I am afraid most females would have just remained on, petrified of defying their husbands, but not you,” Marcus said, his voice tinged with pride. “Who else would fake their own death and run away to London?”
Abigail heard the slight ring of humor in his tone. “I guess the majority of other people would not know the exact way to make cherry jam look like blood, or know the proper dosage of laudanum and valerian root to take when trying to make it appear as if they died.”
Marcus erupted into laughter. “I think it is safe to say you were rather creative in the way you handled things.” He stroked her thigh and his smile vanished as he stumbled onto her scar. “He did this to you, didn’t he?”
Abigail felt humiliated. She wished Marcus did not know all the awful things Clayton had put her through, but Abigail was aware of Liam Stone’s thorough report on her past. “Yes.” Her voice was a mere whisper. “I wish we didn’t have to talk about it.”
Marcus cradled her closer. “I never discussed my brother with anyone, but it felt good to open up to you about my feelings. It was as if I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and somehow it eased the burden.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Above all, I don’t want any secrets between us, Abigail. It is important to me that you are comfortable telling me anything, even if it is difficult. Nothing you could say would ever change the way I feel about you.”
The logic and sweetness of his words cut through Abigail’s anxiety. She was ready to delve into her dark history. Her gaze turned distant as she revisited a place that made her feel numb. “My village knew of the Bainbridge family for many years because they owned an elegant mansion near the water. Each summer, they spent a fortnight or so, taking in the fresh sea air. It was sort of a novelty for them. As a young woman, I remembered running into Clayton from time to time. At first, I thought he was handsome, his manners were perfect in public, almost too perfect, but something always appeared strange about him. I think it was his eyes, they held no warmth, no feeling.”
Marcus’s face was etched with curiosity. “Yet, you decided to marry him?”
“It was not as if I had much choice.” The image of Abigail’s grandfather lying in his death bed flashed before her eyes. “Clayton’s offer of marriage came as quite a shock. Yes, we had exchanged pleasantries from time to time, but nothing he did ever indicated he wanted to make me his bride. In truth, I thought he barely noticed my existence.”
Marcus stared at Abigail’s profile. “Personally, I find that hard to believe.”
Abigail was so wrapped up in her story she barely heard Marcus’s compliment. She just needed to get the words out before she lost her nerve. “My grandfather was gravely ill at the time and he was extremely frightened I would be left all alone in the world. Marriage to Lord Bainbridge seemed like a godsend to him. His dying wish was that I would accept Clayton’s proposal.”
“How could you refuse?”
“Exactly. My grandfather meant the world to me and I would have done anything to make his final days more comfortable. If he had known the type of man Clayton was, he would have never allowed the match.”
“Tell me about the type of man he was,” Marcus encouraged as he held her closer. “I know it won’t be easy, but I am here now, and you have nothing to fear.”
Abigail began to massage her wrist, recalling the terrible pain she felt when Clayton bent it backwards and broke it. She was often grateful it healed so well. “Sadistic is the best word to describe Clayton Bainbridge. The more pain I endured, the more pleasure he felt.” Abigail took a deep breath and continued. “At first, he wasn’t violent, Clayton simply enjoyed belittling me. It seemed as if nothing I did was right or good enough. He would say I was an embarrassment to the Bainbridge name, that he should have married nobility and not the lowly granddaughter of a physician.”
Marcus’s nostrils flared in anger. “That animal was not fit to touch your skirts.”
Abigail smiled at Marcus’s loyalty. “I wholeheartedly agree with you, but at the time I blamed myself. I believed his poor opinion of me and tried desperately to please him. Unfortunately, that would prove to be an impossible task, nothing could ever make Lord Bainbridge happy. I endured his constant verbal cruelty and almost became numb to it. At that point I didn’t consider things could get worse, but I was wrong. Life with Clayton turned into a living hell.”
“He began to beat you.”
“Yes.” Abigail sighed. “Sometimes I was so black and blue I couldn’t stand for a week.”
Marcus gritted his teeth. “No one did or said anything to stop him?”
Abigail let out a bitter laugh. “Clayton was usually very careful to only leave marks that would be concealed by clothing. Besides, what could anyone do? The servants were terrified of him and Clayton’s friends could care less about my safety. I never felt more alone in the world. If I hadn’t met Jane I would have lost the will to live.”
Marcus’s expression softened. “I plan on sending a large donation to the Sacred Heart Orphanage. It seems I owe Miss Whitworth a great deal.”
“I owe Jane my life, literally.” Abigail looked directly into Marcus’s eyes and explained, “Clayton finally reached a point in which he derived little satisfaction from a mere thrashing.” Abigail was overcome with nausea as she told him the rest. “He started burning me with cigars or hot wax. Clayton loved to hear me scream. The more I begged for mercy, the more he laughed. Of course, I had little energy to cry out when he began to routinely starve me.”
Marcus wrapped his arms around Abigail in a fierce embrace and she buried her face against his chest. “I had almost hoped Liam had been mistaken about that part of the story. It makes me sick to my stomach to think of the anguish you endured. I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance!”
Abigail’s head snapped up. She had no idea that Marcus had come in contact with Clayton. “You met my husband.”
Marcus grimaced as he was reminded of the fact that Abigail did not belong to him. “He was under the impression he would still find you in residence at my home. He was quite irate about being deceived. He had the audacity to threaten Grumman, so I took it upon myself to beat him to a bloody pulp.”
Abigail was riddled with guilt. She had turned Marcus’s world upside down. “Please tell me that Olivia didn’t witness anything.”
“Olivia was the only reason I didn’t finish the job. She appeared at the top of the stairs in the midst of the fighting.”
Abigail winced at the thought of Olivia being exposed to such an element. “Was she frightened? I know how fragile she is since her mother passed.”
Marcus’s face lit up with pride. “At first, she was scared, but she felt much better after we talked. Olivia’s tougher than you think. After all, she’s my niece.”
“I miss her terribly.” Abigail gave Marcus a wistful smile. She was glad he felt more comfortable discussing things with Olivia. Abigail knew he was going to make a wonderful father. “And you are right. I do see a lot of you in her.”
“She misses you, too. She was very angry with me for dismissing you the way I did, but I promised her I would bring you back to her.” Marcus’s eyes turned solemn. “I am so sorry for the way I treated you. My actions were unforgiveable.”
Abigail could not believe her ears. “Are you joking? The notion that you should feel sorry about anything is ridiculous. The only reason you jumped to the conclusions you did was because of my lies. There was no way for you to know t
he real reasons behind my meeting with Mr. Stone.” Her thoughts turned to Olivia. “It wasn’t a good idea to promise Olivia something impossible to deliver. The fact remains that I legally belong to a mad man and I will likely have to spend the rest of my life running from him, so returning to London is really not an option.”
“Living my life without you is not an option,” Marcus said with conviction. “I’ve given it much thought and I have come up with a plan. I have several business ventures in America that would greatly benefit from my personal attention. We can sail there immediately and start a new life, build a new home. Everyone will just assume we are man and wife, and I do believe Olivia would benefit from a fresh beginning. It could be wonderful. We could settle in Boston or New York, or any place that suits you.”
Abigail could hardly speak because she was overcome with emotion. “You would really give everything up for me.”
Marcus bent his head down and brushed a soft kiss over her lips. “I think I would be gaining a lot more than I would be giving up, but it really wouldn’t be as difficult as it sounds. Jordan will handle all my business affairs in London. He will just tell everyone that Olivia and I are doing a bit of traveling. Before long, everyone will just forget about us and stop asking questions.”
Marcus’s enthusiasm almost brought Abigail to tears. He was the sweetest man she had ever known. “England is your home. You are a respected member of society. All your close friends are here. I will not allow you to give that all up for me. What kind of life would we live in America? We would always be looking over our shoulder, worrying that Clayton would find us. I can’t do that to you or Olivia. You both deserve peace and joy, not the anxiety that will come along with living in hiding.”
Marcus’s blue eyes were alive with determination. “Olivia and I need you, Abigail, and we will not take no for an answer. I will book three first class tickets to America and we will sail by the end of the week.” His jaw tensed with resolve. “Do I make myself clear, Abigail?”
“Yes,” Abigail whispered. She knew it was selfish to drag them halfway across the world to fight her battle, but Abigail could not deny the relief she felt in Marcus’s strong, capable arms. It felt so good to be under his protection. He made everything seem so easy. America would not be a scary place with Marcus by her side. “So much needs to be done before we leave. Olivia is not packed and there must be so many loose ends you need to tie up...”
Marcus sighed with relief as he flashed Abigail a wicked grin. “Let me take care of everything. We will pack light. I am a very wealthy man. We can purchase anything we will require once we land in America. I have it on good authority that spending gobs of money endears you to a new community.”
A giggle escaped from Abigail’s lips. “What else do you find endearing, my lord?” Abigail was overwhelmed with the need to pleasure Marcus. She wanted him to feel as happy as she felt. Brazenly, she put her hands on his well muscled chest and pushed him down against the bed. Abigail began to trail kisses from his neck to his abdomen. “Is this endearing, my lord?” Marcus’s answering groan only encouraged her bold behavior. Her tongue began to tease the shaft of his erect manhood and Abigail saw Marcus’s fists grab at the mattress. She took him inside her mouth and began to suck with enough force to elicit the strangled sound of her name from his lips. “Or is this more endearing?”
There was no answer. Marcus’s powerful climax was reply enough.
∞
Two splendid days later, Marcus awoke at dawn in a comfortable bed at the Fallen Swan Inn. He had spent the past two nights sleeping at the cozy establishment, while he had spent the daylight hours in Abigail’s wonderful company. Marcus was careful not to stir up any local gossip that would reflect badly on Abigail’s character, only joining her at the cottage when the servants took their leave for the day.
His time with Abigail was purely pleasurable, but his time at the Inn was productive and he was eager to put his plan into action. Marcus had written to Jordan and Grumman, informing them both of his current plans. He had complete faith in Jordan to handle all his business affairs with absolute care, and Marcus knew he could count on Grumman to purchase the passages to America and see Olivia safely to the ship.
He wasn’t completely naïve to think there wouldn’t be an adjustment period to living in a new country, but every time he was in Abigail’s presence, he knew he was making the right the decision. She made him feel happiness right down to his very core and he would do everything in his power to protect her from the monster she married.
Anger washed over him as he envisioned all of the pain and anguish Clayton put her through. A part of him felt robbed by Lord Bainbridge. It just didn’t seem fair he couldn’t marry Abigail before the eyes of God and all his friends. He desperately wanted to declare to the world that Abigail belonged to him and nobody else. Instead he had to live his life pretending to be her husband. Marcus would give anything to see Abigail’s exquisite face adorned in a lace veil, walking down the aisle towards him in Saint James Cathedral. He couldn’t imagine any woman being a more beautiful bride than Abigail.
Marcus closed his eyes and did his best to focus on the reality of the situation. After all, it wasn’t beneficial to dwell on something that could never happen. He needed to settle for the amazing privilege of being with Abigail and put away his fanciful dreams. Now was the time to concentrate on any obstacles that could hinder their trip to America.
He walked over towards the wash basin and splashed his face with cold water. Marcus stared at his reflection in the mirror, a slow smile appearing on his face. Today was the day they would start their journey back to London. Their ship would set sail at the end of the week and they would leave all their troubles behind. It would be a glorious fresh start for everyone.
Chapter 28
Abigail hummed a tune as she made her way down the stairs. The past few days had been glorious. They had divided their time evenly between making love and going for long walks in the secluded nature of the countryside. The more time she spent with Marcus, the more she realized she was very much in love with him.
Abigail reached the bottom of the steps and suddenly felt a strong wave of nausea. She grabbed hold of the banister to steady herself, took a deep breath and started to feel better.
“My heavens, you do look a bit pale this morning,” Mrs. Hutchinson declared as she put down a load of fresh linens to help Abigail down the steps. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Abigail answered, feeling slightly embarrassed to be the cause of any fuss. “It is probably because I haven’t eaten yet.” Her stomach growled, proving her point. “That must be it.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Hutchinson smiled. “I will whip up something delightful at once. Would you like to eat in the garden?”
Abigail smiled as she thought of the colorful mosaic table and chairs happily situated next to the rose bushes. “That sounds delightful.” Her thoughts turned to Marcus. “Actually, a gentleman will be joining me for breakfast – Lord Everton. Will you kindly show him to the garden when he arrives?”
Mrs. Hutchinson beamed. “Absolutely. I will make my strawberry crepes. My husband goes crazy for them, so I am sure your guest will enjoy them.”
Abigail’s mouth watered. Mrs. Hutchinson had a special gift for making anything sweet. “I’m certain there will not be a crumb leftover.”
She watched Mrs. Hutchinson retreat into the kitchen and then she made her way to the garden. Abigail had not informed the housekeeper she would be departing today, and she was not quite sure why. Maybe it was because the entire notion of running away with Marcus and Olivia seemed completely surreal, as if it wasn’t really going to happen. She longed for a normal life, but instead was saddled with something that appeared to be straight out of a tragic gothic novel.
Abigail started to pace back and forth between the rosebushes and the vegetable garden. What if Marcus became resentful of the sacrifices he was about to make? What if he hated America and misse
d his old life? Would Olivia be traumatized by the move? How would they explain their complex predicament to a child?
Those were just some of the unanswered questions Abigail had managed to shove away over the past few days, but now they were flooding back with a vengeance. How could she stand back and watch the man she loves give up his whole world? It would be completely selfish of her not to try and stop him.
Mrs. Hutchinson’s sweet voice interrupted her thoughts. “Your guest has arrived.”
Marcus trailed behind the housekeeper, his gaze directly on Abigail. Her breath caught in her chest because he looked especially handsome today, adorned in his russet color trousers and waist coat. Any woman in her right mind would be fortunate to become his lover.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hutchinson,” Abigail said as she watched her place the tea and a tray full of freshly baked scones on the table. “Everything looks scrumptious.”
Mrs. Hutchinson looked towards Abigail. “Shall I pour you both a cup of tea?”
“That will not be necessary, Mrs. Hutchinson. Lord Everton and I will serve ourselves,” Abigail answered, wondering if the housekeeper thought it was strange for her to be entertaining a gentleman alone. It was well known widows were granted a great deal more latitude than an unmarried maiden, but it was still rather risqué. “But thank you.”
“Of course, I will be back with your meal momentarily.”
The instant Mrs. Hutchinson vanished inside the house Marcus crushed her against him and passionately kissed her lips. Abigail highly doubted anything could feel more wonderful than being near Marcus, the only thing better than his closeness was his intoxicatingly masculine scent, a mixture of shaving cream and leather oil.
Marcus released her and grabbed for a scone. “I am not sure if I want this for breakfast or I just want you.” Abigail blushed at the wicked grin on his face as he took a bite of the pastry. “These are delicious. I am a going to ask Mrs. Hutchinson to pack some up for our journey.”
