Lady Abigale’s Wager: Brides of Somerset Book Three

by Lynne, Karen

  Lady Abigale’s Wager

  Brides of Somerset Book Three

  Karen Lynne

  Other Books by Karen Lynne

  Brides of Somerset Series:

  The Earl’s Reluctant Bride

  Courting Eliza

  Lady Abigale’s Wager

  Join my reader's group and enjoy updates for new books and little bits of tidbits on 19th-century history.

  To my husband, who supports all my efforts regardless of how much they drive him crazy.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Authors Notes

  Like This Book

  Chapter One

  Lady Abigale was used to getting her way, but it was nearing the end of her third Season in London. Her father, Sir George, was concerned for her and felt she should have been married by now. It wasn’t for lack of suitors that Abby hadn’t “stuck,” as they say. She had turned down two young men who had wished to propose already this Season. A fact she kept to herself.

  Abby threw her bonnet on the side table and entered the parlour of her father’s London townhome. A spring shower hung wet in the air, cutting short her morning ride in the park. It was just as well she was growing tired of the daily visits from suitors who left her feeling weary. If her father had just let her go to Bath for the Season. She had been writing to her friend Isabella, who lived in Bristol and enjoyed the Bath Season. She had hoped to enjoy the smaller community with Isabella, where she could develop more intimate friendships.

  Aunt Lucy looked up from her stitching when Abby entered the room. Abby dropped onto the settee next to her aunt, brushing a damp curl out of her face. Aunt Lucy, her father’s sister, had been her chaperone and companion ever since her mother died. She was a most affectionate, indulgent aunt; doting and loving, although she too was beginning to lose patience with her.

  “Abby, dear, you're damp. Is that why you're back so soon?”

  “I’m afraid it began to drizzle just as we entered the park. Thank heavens I had my parasol. I think my dress can be dried without any damage.” Abby attempted to brush the drops from her skirt before she gave up. Betsy, her maid, would bring the dress back to life. It really was fortuitous that they had been caught in the shower. Her companion, though sweet, in a boyish, innocent way, was dull and stirred no passion as a young lady would hope.

  “I think you ordered that rain on purpose, Abby, just to get out from riding with your new beau.”

  Her brother, William, startled her. She hadn’t seen him sitting in the corner, his face buried in the London Post. He lowered the paper just enough to stare at her, shaking his head.

  Abby’s eyes drilled into his. “Mr Wyler is not my beau.”

  “Well, he could be if you would give him a chance.” William continued to stare at his sister, giving her a knowing look.

  “Mr Wyler does not stir my emotions.”

  “Stir your emotions?” Her brother laughed, “Abby, everybody stirs your emotions. You’re the most excitable female I’ve ever come across. If you keep this up, I wager you’ll be a spinster by next Season just like your friend, Miss Underwood.”

  “Josephine is not a spinster; she’s an independent woman.”

  “An independent spinster, no doubt,” William egged her on. “Mark my word, Abby. If you keep this up, in the next year or two, gentlemen will begin to avoid you.”

  Abby clutched the arms of the chair as she maintained her temper. “You will see, William. I will take that wager and prove to you that I am capable of finding a husband. A husband that will suit me, not you or Father.” She stood, flouncing out of the room, her damp skirts sticking to her legs. She could hear her aunt reprimanding William as she made her escape.

  “You know you will push her into doing something rash by your teasing, William.”

  Abby made her way to her bedchamber where Betsy helped her out of her damp clothing. A hot bath would set her to rights. How dare her brother insinuate that she was changeable. She deserved a husband whom she had passion for. Didn’t she?

  William had found his love two Seasons back. Her dear friend, Eliza, and he had fallen in love and married, and she knew they loved each other deeply. She was beginning to think that it was not possible for her to find love. The gentlemen she had met these past few Seasons were either too old or too young, tied to their mothers, and unable to think for themselves. They sparked no emotion, Abby wanted to feel something for her husband. So far, her father hadn’t pushed her to marry anyone, but she didn’t know how long his patience would hold.

  * * *

  Abby spent the morning riding in Hyde Park with Miss Josephine Underwood, taking advantage of the cool morning. They managed their horses along the serpentine, avoiding the footpaths. A groom followed at a discreet distance at the insistence of her father.

  It was a clear day, and the rain had abated, making the ride enjoyable. She enjoyed her time with Miss Underwood. Josephine was a self-proclaimed spinster at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. Her parents had died and left her enough money to be independent. Abby deemed herself fortunate Josephine allowed her to be friends and to call her by her given name. Miss Underwood didn’t suffer the fair sex’s company often, preferring more mature acquaintances. She was taller than average, and her sharp eyes looking down her straight nose could quell any silly miss in an instant. Josephine was going to Bath for the summer and had invited Abby to come as her guest.

  “I have found a house in Bath.” Josephine shifted the reins and turned her mount, avoiding the children who ran through the grass as their nannies gossiped amongst themselves, turning their heads every so often to check on their charges.

  “So soon?” Abby asked in surprise for Josephine had just decided to go to the country a couple of weeks past.

  “Yes, I was fortunate a family left suddenly without giving notice and my man snapped it up. It’s a very fine address in the Royal Crescent, number 20. Have you talked to your father about staying with me this summer?”

  Abby shook her head. “I have been waiting for the right moment. This has to be handled delicately. He is still peeved at me for discouraging Mr Thomas.”

  Josephine laughed. “I understand, and the invitation stands. I will be leaving at the end of the week before the summer heat sets in. Send me word of your decision, but I warn you, I keep myself busy with charitable work and it can be quite dull.”

  “It will be a change from the parties that fill our days her in London.” Abby complained. “But I am sure I shall find a way to get to Bath.”

  Abby waved goodbye as she and Josephine emerged from the park gate and promised to send word. Abby headed towards her father’s townhouse still early as hawkers readied their carts, preparing to sell for the day. Nannies were already bringing their charges for a romp in the park before the crowds of ladies and gentlemen took the daily strolls.

  A groom took Abby’s mount and she entered the front door. She could hear her father in the back breakfast parlour with her Aunt Lucy. Climbing the stairs to her room for a quick freshening up before she joined them deciding this morning was as good a time as any to broach the subject. She knew her father loved her, but could be stern. Taking a deep breath, running her hands down the front of her skirt, she entered the breakfast room.

  “Abby, dear,” her aunt’s eyes brightened, “did you have a good r
ide?”

  “Oh, I did. It was lovely.” Abby sat and placed a napkin in her lap. She reached for a triangle of toast and buttered it. A footman poured her a cup of tea while she helped herself to a boiled egg and began to crack it, avoiding her father’s eyes. Keeping her voice light, she said before biting into her toast, “Miss Underwood has invited me to stay with her in Bath this summer.”

  “Oh.” Her Aunt Lucy looked up, blinking.

  “Bath, why would you want to go to Bath? We’ve been over this.” Her father laid his paper down on the table, raising his eyes to her. “You haven’t managed to catch a husband here in London with thousands of people. Why would Bath be any different?”

  Abby opened her mouth to respond when her aunt coughed. “Abby, why don’t you let your father and I talk about this?” She gave her a knowing look, signaling Abby was dismissed.

  Abby thought it a good idea. Finishing her egg, she stuffed the last bite of toast in her mouth, wiped her hands and stood. Giving her aunt a nod, she quickly left the room, closing the door behind her leaving just a crack. What was Aunt Lucy up to? She leaned her ear towards the door. Would her aunt support her with this invitation?

  “Lucy, what was that about?” Her father huffed.

  “George, why do you insist on provoking your daughter so? I see no reason why Abby can’t go and visit her friend in Bath this summer. You won’t even be home most of the summer.”

  “William and Eliza are taking good care of the estate. Why should I drag myself back to the country?” Sir George defended himself.

  “Exactly, how do you think Abby feels? Both Susan and Eliza her friends are married now. She has nobody else close to her age. It would do her good to go to Bath. If you’re worried about her, I will contact Eliza’s aunt, Mrs Notley, in Bristol. I hear she’s taken her niece to Bath for the Season.”

  “You won’t be going with her?” Father’s voice became alarmed.

  “Abby will reach her majority this summer. I feel no need to go with her to Bath. There will be plenty of escorts, and she will have her maid with her. Betsy is a sensible girl.”

  Abby heard a cough. She turned her head to see the butler staring at her a frown on his face. She lifted her finger to her lips and bent closer to the opening. The butler raised his eyes to the ceiling and continued down the hall.

  She couldn’t believe Aunt Lucy was championing her cause. Her heart sped up in anticipation of going to Bath, finally.

  “What do we know about this Miss Underwood?” her father continued. “I’m concerned that she might be a bad influence on Abby.”

  “You mean to become a spinster, like myself.” Aunt Lucy had raised her voice. It carried a slight edge.

  “Lucy, I didn’t mean…” Her father’s voice softened.

  “Never you mind. If you must know, Mr Albert is spending time with me. Now that Abby is reaching her majority, I would like to take some time for myself.”

  “It’s not nice to eavesdrop.” A soft breath blew against her ear. Jumping back, her hand flew to her chest. William stood behind her a stern looks on his face as he tapped his foot.

  “When it concerns me, it is,” she threw back at him, tossing her head.

  He reached for her elbow and pulled her forward. “Come, Abby, walk me to the door.”

  A footman was loading bags onto the back of William’s curricle. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yes, my business is done here, and I’d like to get back to my wife. Eliza has been managing the estate for a month now. It’s time I returned to her and my boy.”

  Abby kicked her toe against the stones as William checked his horses. “William, did you know Mr Albert was spending time with Aunt Lucy?”

  “He is? Well, good for them.” William turned to adjust his luggage.

  Frustrated Abby slapped her hand against her skirt. “Is that all you have to say?” What if Aunt Lucy leaves us?

  He turned to look at her. “I think it’s time Aunt Lucy found a little companionship of her own. She’s been taking care of us for a long time. You should worry about our wager,” he advised. “I shall be thinking of what you will owe me when you lose our wager.” He leaned down and tweaked her cheek. Abby swatted at his hand.

  “You know I like a challenge, William, so don’t think you’ll win this one.” She watched him climb into his curricle. He tipped his hat as he moved into the street. Shaking her head, she entered the house again. Knowing when to leave the fight to someone else, Abby retired to her room and left Aunt Lucy to convince her father.

  Abby had not thought to go to Bath without the companionship of her aunt. She had enjoyed the affection and kindness of her company for the past sixteen years. Her mother died when Abby was at a tender age. The only motherly affection she remembered had come from her aunt.

  Not being a selfish creature, Abby was happy her aunt might find a place of her own. Mr Albert was a man of exceptionally good character, good fortune, and a sensible age for aunt Lucy. They would get on well together.

  Chapter Two

  Sir Andrew Pulteney, the fifth Baronet of Bath, was ready to go home to his Bathwick estate. It had been a trying session. They had been unable to get a bill, to clarify the Slave Trade Act of 1807, which Sir George Phelips had brought forward through the House of Commons for legislation. The bill had been bouncing around the House for the last several years. It seemed no one wanted to commit, and so the debates continued.

  Andrew entered White’s Club on 37 James Street, a copy of the Edinburgh tucked under his arm. He found members of Parliament discussing the bills that were currently before the House.

  Sir George welcomed him to a seat. “Sir Andrew, we were just discussing that if Jenkinson would call a vote, we might get the Slave Trade Act expanded throughout the British Empire.”

  Andrew sat, putting his paper aside. “You may try, Sir George, but I believe we don’t have enough votes yet. We’ve been debating this for the last two sessions.”

  “You’re probably right.” Sir George’s brow wrinkled. “We only have a month left before we break. I guess it’s too much to hope for a positive conclusion.”

  “Yes, I agree so I’ve decided to head home. I haven’t seen my son for a while.” Andrew pushed the paper toward Sir George. “Did you hear the Pentrich rising has been stopped? They hung the ringleaders at the Derby ghoul.”

  Sir George reached for the paper, shaking his head. “The Luddites broke up lace-making machines in Loughborough in February. I don’t agree with their tactics, but I understand the recession has hit the working class hard.”

  “I believe it will take time. The war has only ended these past two years, it’s painful to accept change, especially when it effects your livelihood.” Sir Andrew replied.

  “You reside in Bath, do you not?” Sir George asked.

  “I do, in the parish of Bathwick where I have a large estate.”

  Sir George sat and pondered as if something heavy weighed on his mind. “My daughter, Lady Abigale, is visiting Bath this summer with a friend, Miss Underwood. She will be leaving within the week. My sister believes it will be good for her, but I have my concerns.”

  Andrew recalled the young miss he’d seen several Seasons ago. Like many of the young debutantes, he tended to avoid them. “We have many visitors during the summer. They take the waters and avoid the hot London summer.”

  “Yes. My sister has given me all the arguments, but I would feel reassured. If you could check on her, nothing formal . . . Just if you happen to see her in society, it will put my mind at ease as she is reaching her majority this summer.”

  While Andrew certainly didn’t want to play nursemaid, he tried to remember what the lady looked like. Blonde, pretty face, full of giggles like the rest of her kind. He should make an excuse, but he respected Sir George, and as a father, he could sympathise with his concern. He nodded as he found himself agreeing. “Give me her address, and I will see what I can do.”

  He would make a courtesy call to the
girl and set Sir George’s mind at ease. Then it would be done, and he could turn to his duties at home. He hadn’t remarried after his wife died shortly after the birth of their son. She was docile and met his needs. It hadn’t been a love match, but he did not need to love his wife. It was less complicated that way.

  He hadn’t given much thought to it lately, but it was probably time to think of remarrying for the sake of his son. A mature lady would be best, someone who didn’t expect anything from him, but someone who could guide his young son until he was old enough to be sent to school. Then his wife could do as she pleased. He had plenty of money, that wasn’t a problem as long as his wife didn’t interfere with his comfortable life.

  Sir George was true to his word and sent the address of where his daughter would be staying, along with the direction of Mrs Notley of Bristol, who could be notified if need be.

  Miss Underwood, 20 Royal Crescent Bath. The residence was in a good part of town, which gave him pause. He was not about to get caught up in Bath society and hoped he would not regret helping Sir George.

  * * *

  Abby woke up to sunshine and a happy countenance. Aunt Lucy had somehow convinced her father to let her spend the summer in Bath. Miss Josephine Underwood had left three days before and promised to have the house set up by the time Abby arrived.

  Arrangements had been made for her to travel with Mrs Packett and her two daughters. Not the best travelling arrangements as the Packett sisters tended to quarrel amongst themselves. It could be tedious to be trapped in a coach together. But she wouldn’t complain. Surely, she could endure two days of travel when the reward was a summer in Bath.