Lady Abigale’s Wager: Brides of Somerset Book Three

by Lynne, Karen

  He relaxed into one of the leather chairs. Closing his eyes, he wrestled with the feelings Lady Abigale caused within him whenever she was near. Touching his breast pocket, he felt paper beneath the fabric. It was his list. He promised himself to give it to Lady Abigale today.

  A shadow crossed the window; a mumble of voices could be heard outside. Someone had dared to disturb his solitude. Andrew groaned. It was probably the groundsmen. He stood, thinking it would be good to talk with them about the progress for tomorrow’s activities.

  Andrew rounded the corner of the cottage and was surprised to see Lady Abigale swinging back-and-forth gently in the porch swing while gazing at the lake, a light shawl about her shoulders. She was dressed for dinner. His heart tightened at the sight of her.

  “A peaceful sight, isn’t it?” He walked over.

  “Yes, it is.” She looked up. A smile played about her lips. “I hope you don’t mind. I was restless and wanted to explore this feature before dinner. It really is peaceful. I should like to bring pencils down tomorrow and sketch.”

  “I think we can gather some for you.” Sir Andrew sat down on the swing next to Lady Abigale, leaving space between them. She twirled lavender stems between her fingers, which released a fresh scent. Comfortable silence followed.

  He reluctantly pulled the paper from his breast pocket and handed it to her.

  “What’s this?” She opened the folded sheet.

  “I told you I would help you by recommending gentlemen of good character. My solicitor assures me these men are solid.” He pointed to the paper.

  “You had your solicitor look into them?” She gazed into his eyes.

  Why did she make him feel giddy, like a young school-boy? She just had to say the word, and he would do anything she asked.

  “That was kind of you.” She looked down at the paper and smiled. “I am glad Mr Dalton has your recommendation. I like him.”

  His heart dropped. It felt like she had stabbed him. Could he actually be jealous of her attention to Mr Dalton?

  “I have already decided to give up Mr Woodland and Mr Tingley. They are young officers. I don’t think I’d make a good military wife, for I would not want to sit home alone while my husband went to sea.”

  Her voice was wistful as she gazed out over the lake. Soft, wispy curls dangled in the breeze.

  “I would not leave my wife alone,” he found himself saying. She looked up, and their eyes locked.

  “You wouldn’t?” she whispered.

  He found his blood boiling at the thought of her marrying anyone but himself. The idea of Mr Dalton kissing her was driving him mad. “Yes.” He leaned in and, raising his hand, he skimmed his finger along her chin and down the side of her neck. She stilled, gazing into his eyes. He ran his hand down her arm as he moved closer, watching her tongue wet her lips. She leaned in ever so slightly. His desire was strong. He was ready to take her into his arms when her eyes grew wide. She stood suddenly as her fingers fumbled to fold the paper.

  “It must be—time for dinner. We should get back. Aunt Lucy will be worried.” Her voice trembled. She stepped away but did not retreat.

  He stood, taking a deep breath. “Of course, Lady Abigale, you go ahead, I’ll be back shortly.”

  She nodded and retreated quickly back towards the house.

  He took another shuddering breath. Sitting back in the swing, he leaned forward, running his hands through his hair. What had he almost done? He knew not to accost young ladies alone with a kiss, but she was not just any young lady. She had wrung her way into his heart, driving him mad with irritation one minute, and the next, enchanting him. He relaxed, stood, and slowly made his way back to the house, thankful that there would be a crowd here tomorrow. He would be careful not to be alone with Lady Abigale again. He was fortunate she had the sense to retreat back to the safety of the house.

  Lady Abigale deserved to be courted properly. He would speak with her father after the party next week.

  * * *

  Abby’s heart raced as she made her way towards the house. She was glad Sir Andrew didn’t escort her back. She needed time to regain her composure. She didn’t know where she found the strength to stop his kiss, for she knew he intended to embrace her.

  She wanted that kiss as much as he did, but she wouldn’t let him compromise her just for a ring on her finger. If he loved her, she deserved a courtship and a proper proposal without scandal attached. She was thankful for Aunt Lucy’s presence. Now, as she looked at the crumpled paper in her hand, she knew that her heart was Sir Andrew’s, for no one else would do.

  Chapter Eleven

  Abby woke up the next morning deliriously happy. The sun was bright and promised to be a good day for a party. Sir Andrew had been respectful and attentive at dinner the night before, and she entertained the four of them, playing on the grand piano.

  Abby slipped out of bed, going to the window. There was a flurry of activity below as workers preparing for the crowds set up tables’ chairs and tents.

  “My lady, Sir Andrew, sent this package for you.” Betsy held a brown bundle tied with string.

  Abby took the package and sat down on the bed. Untying the strings, she removed the paper to reveal a wooden lap box made for a lady. Abby unlatched the lock to view sheets of paper for drawing, an assortment of lead and coloured pencils, and a small penknife with a golden handle for sharpening. Delighted, she ran her hands across the papers and supplies. She lifted the note that lay on top.

  Lady Abigale

  I hope these tools will help you draw the prospect you so admired yesterday evening.

  Yours, A

  How thoughtful. She would use them today to capture the cottage by the lake. The place where she almost received her first kiss.

  They all rode in Sir Andrew’s carriage for Sunday’s services. Master William sat next to his nanny, poking his head around her and watching Abby, a sunny smile on his face. The chapel was already filling when they entered and settled into a pew up front. Abby had just settled herself next to her aunt when she felt a small tug from her skirt. William was attempting to climb on her lap. She lifted him up, and he snuggled and relaxed against her, slipping his thumb into his mouth.

  “I see you have made a new friend, Abby, dear,” Aunt Lucy replied.

  “It seems so.” She laughed.

  The child’s hair, smelling of fresh soap, tickled Abby’s nose. Master William’s eyes grew heavy as the sermon continued, and he soon fell into a peaceful sleep. Contentment washed over her as she watched the child’s slow, steady breathing. He was so easy to love, unlike his father, who had sent feelings of conflict through her ever since they met. She could feel Sir Andrew’s eyes upon her, yet she dared not look. Content to enjoy the child, she focused on the sermon.

  Master William woke as soon as the service concluded. Wiggling off her lap, he made his way down the aisle, his nanny chasing behind.

  The guests had already started gathering as the carriage stopped at the entrance to Sir Andrew’s estate. Abby realised she wouldn’t be seeing as much of Sir Andrew that day. Master William was running up the steps. “I can see that you are going to be busy, Sir Andrew. It seems your son is eager to get started.” Abby gave him a reassuring smile.

  “I hope we can spend a little time together throughout the day, it seems my son has attached himself to you.” Sir Andrew’s face lite up as he gazed down at her.

  Abby could feel her face warm and it wasn’t because of the weather. “I would like that, Sir Andrew.”

  “Till later, than. Luncheon is served on the green in back and servants will be there to help you with anything you need,” Sir Andrew informed them.

  “We will be fine, Sir Andrew. You go ahead and take care of your other guests,” Aunt Lucy said.

  Abby watched with a contented heart as Andrew hurried off to do his duty. She planned on spending a relaxing few hours under the shade of the tree while sketching the lake.

  “Aunt Lucy, I’m going t
o run upstairs and retrieve my pencils. You must take Mr Albert down to the lake, the one with the little cottage just past the wooded patch. It is very peaceful, and I think it would be a great place to eat our luncheon. I confess I visited there yesterday.”

  Her aunt nodded. “Mr Albert, what do you say we take a little walk down by the lake?”

  “That would be fine, my dear. Would you like me to get your parasol?”

  “I will get it, Mr Albert, since I’m going upstairs to retrieve my drawing supplies,” Abby replied.

  “Thank you, dear. Then we will see you out by the lake.” Her aunt smiled.

  Abby watched Mr Albert and her aunt walk towards the back terrace. It touched her heart to see him so attentive. They really were a perfect match.

  Abby quickly pulled off her bonnet as she entered her room. “Betsy, I want to change into my muslin with the pink cotton underskirt. I think it will be much cooler.” She picked a straw bonnet with matching ribbons. “Betsy, will you retrieve a parasol from my aunt’s room? I need to take it with me.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Betsy left, quickly returning a few minutes later just as Abby reached for her drawing supplies.

  “Betsy, you look nice. That’s a very pretty dress. After we take the parasol to my aunt, you are to enjoy yourself for the rest of the day. I see that you have our things packed. Good. Sir Andrew has arranged a carriage to take us home this evening.”

  Abby found her aunt under the shade of an old oak, sunlight dappling through the leaves, adding to her aunt’s already glowing countenance. Servants had set chairs and tables around the lake. Children played; it was a pleasant scene. Betsy handed the parasol to her aunt before leaving.

  “You were right, Abby. This is a very nice place to eat. I see why you wanted to come here,” her aunt said.

  “Where is Mr Albert?” Abby slid her drawing set under the table and sat down.

  “He has gone over to the refreshment tent to get us some food.” Her aunt waved her hand in the direction he’d gone.

  “I confess I am famished. My breakfast has worn off, and there looks to be many delightful things to eat.” Abby’s hand went to her stomach.

  “We cannot have you starve, Lady Abigale; I shall be honoured to bring you a plate.” The boyishly handsome Mr Dalton came into view, bowing over her hand.

  “Mr Dalton, do you know what a young lady would like to eat?” Abby enjoyed their playful banter. He reminded her of her brother, William.

  “I know what my sister likes. Shall I bring you the same?”

  Abby laughed at his safe comeback. “Yes, I think that will do.”

  “Splendid. I am up for the challenge.” Mr Dalton rubbed his hands together as he headed towards the food table.

  Mr Alfred returned with two plates and set them on the table. “Lady Abigale, may I get you a plate of food?”

  “Thank you, Mr Albert, but Mr Dalton has gone to gather a plate for me.”

  “Abby has plenty of gentlemen flying about her, Mr Albert. I have no doubt she shall be completely taken care of today.” Aunt Lucy gave her a pleasant smile.

  Yes, Abby thought, she didn’t doubt that, but there was only one gentleman she cared to be pampered by, and he would be busy taking care of his guests like a good host.

  “Here we are, Lady Abigale.” Mr Dalton set two plates of food on the table. “You must tell me how I have done.” He sat, taking the chair next to her.

  Abby pulled off her gloves and examined the little sandwiches, surrounded by fruit, with two dainty bite-size pastries sat on the edge. She picked up a pastry and slid it into her mouth. Footmen had followed with a tray of food, which they set on the table. Another footman appeared with glasses and a pitcher of lemonade.

  Abby licked her fingers in a very unladylike fashion. “I think you have brought reinforcements, Mr Dalton.” She giggled.

  “Just to be sure I had everything you like. I see that you like dessert first.”

  “You have found me out, Mr Dalton. I am partial to sweets.” She smiled sweetly, picking up her fork.

  After luncheon, Mr Dalton helped Abby move her chair to a better location so she could draw the cottage. Aunt Lucy and Mr Albert strolled along the lake’s edge. Children scrambled, playing with their boats and squealing while parents watched.

  “Lady Abigale, I will leave you now to your drawing, but might I join you for a walk in, say, an hour?”

  “Yes, Mr Dalton, I would like that.” She watched as he strolled back towards the gardens. Relaxing, she began drawing the cottage, capturing the children at play by the pond. She set the paper aside and started another drawing of the lake with the grove of trees on the other side.

  “You’ve captured it well.” A familiar voice spoke above her. She looked up to see Sir Andrew admiring her drawing of the cottage and the pond. She felt that familiar buzz, which permeated her body whenever he was near. Reaching down, she picked up the drawing and handed it to him. He took it and sat down beside her chair, stretching out his legs and leaning his elbow against the grass as he examined it closer.

  “I like the way you’ve captured the children playing by the pond.”

  “I couldn’t have drawn it without your gift. Thank you for the paper and pencils. That was very generous of you.”

  He shrugged. “I’m glad you have enjoyed them.” Sitting up, he looked at her other drawing. “You’re very good.”

  “It is one of the few pursuits that I enjoyed other than playing the pianoforte. I suppose if you like something enough, you put the time and effort into learning the skill. Drawing allowed me to escape the schoolroom and be out in nature,” Abby admitted.

  He handed back the drawing, looking into her face intently. She couldn’t make out what he was thinking but felt the attraction between them, pulling them together. Could this be the passion she’d always sought?

  “Lady Abigale, I regret that I haven’t been able to spend much time with you today, but I hope I can take you on a walk later and show you the grounds?”

  “I would like that.” Abby held his gaze.

  Sir Andrew reached down and took her bare hand. Their skin touched, and searing heat rippled up her arm. He placed a kiss on the back before letting go. “Until then, Lady Abigale.” He turned and strolled towards the house.

  Leaning back, she watched him until he was out of sight, a soft smile upon her lips as she gazed out over the lake. Aunt Lucy had been watching, her eyes twinkling with understanding before turning towards Mr Albert again.

  Abby sighed. If this was what it felt like to be in love, then she was . . . in love.

  * * *

  Mr Dalton returned a little later than expected, apologising. “Forgive me, Lady Abigale, it took me a little longer. Are you still up for that walk?”

  “I believe so far, I have nearly fallen asleep.” Abby stood. “Aunt Lucy, Mr Dalton, would like to take me for a walk.”

  “It is not far, Lady Phelips. There is a little feature I’d like her to see just past the bowling green.”

  “Then enjoy yourselves. We will go nowhere until you return,” Lady Abigale’s aunt replied.

  Abby took Mr Dalton’s proffered her, and he led her around the grove of trees, past the formal gardens along the bowling green, and into a small, wooded area. The people began to thin out.

  Abby became nervous as they moved into an overgrown path. “Mr Dalton, if Sir Andrew hadn’t told me of your good character, I might be a little nervous right now without a chaperone. I believe we are almost alone.”

  “Sir Andrew spoke highly of me? I am quite flattered. But I promise to be on my best behaviour, Lady Abigale. It is but just a few feet farther.”

  Mr Dalton was right. A few more feet and they came upon a quaint little gazebo made in the Greek style with pillars. Abby stepped into the enclosure. Mr Dalton had cleaned the seats, and a blanket lay across the stone bench, making a place to sit without messing her gown. She sat and gazed out across the lake. She could see the cottage and her
aunt strolling with Mr Albert, yet they were secluded in the private little sanctuary on the other side.

  Mr Dalton turned. Grasping her hand, he knelt before her. Abby froze as she anticipated what he was about to do. No— no, no, she thought.

  * * *

  Sir Andrew did his duty as quickly as he could, anxious to return to Lady Abigale. He could steal away for a short time to show her the grounds before evening set in, but he had to personally say goodbye to each guest. A ritual their family had observed for as long as he could remember.

  He hoped that Lady Abigale would be there by his side in the future, helping him in the years ahead. He found her empty chair with her pencils set aside, but no Lady Abigale.

  “I was looking for your niece. Do you know where she went?” Sir Andrew asked her aunt.

  “Mr Dalton took her for a walk to see a feature just past the bowling green, I think he said.”

  Sir Andrew looked up. A feature by the bowling green. He peered across the lake. He could just barely see the gazebo nestled in the wooded area.

  “Thank you, Lady Phelips.” Sir Andrew turned and quickly walked towards the gazebo.

  His stomach flipped, knots forming as he increased his pace. He entered the path in the wooded area and stopped as they came into view. Lady Abigale sat on the bench. Mr Dalton reached for her hand and knelt by her side.

  “Lady Abigale, you must know I’m crazy about you. Will you be my wife?”

  Abigale pulled her hand from Mr Dalton’s. “Benjamin, you know I adore you.” She reached her trembling hand out, brushing a stray lock on his forehead.

  Andrew turned, retreating quietly, not willing to disturb the intimate scene. His heart turned cold. He was too late. Fires of jealousy burned within him as he tried to shut out the scene. She called him Benjamin. Had their relationship advanced faster than he realised? Didn’t she say she liked him very much?