“How do you do?” she managed to utter.
“Abigail,” Father said, “this is your betrothed. Lord Cecil Sutton.”
Sixteen
“What?” Abigail blurted. “This cannot be!”
“Indeed he is,” Father said.
Abigail swallowed and stared at the man standing before her. Surely this loud, boorish, pursy man could not be her intended. Not when she loved Tedric with every fiber of her being!
Tedric! She sent her gaze to the corner where her beloved stood, realizing even as she did that her eyes were wide with pleading. He watched the scene with the intensity of one witnessing the climax of an opera. Why didn’t he say something?
“Abigail! Where are your manners?” Father asked. He turned to Cecil. “I beg your pardon. My daughter is obviously quite taken by your presence. She is justifiably nervous about seeing you.”
“That is quite understandable.” He tilted his head up with an attitude of superiority.
So Lord Sutton was vain too!
“I can forgive your reaction, Miss Pettigrew.” Cecil looked down his nose as much as was possible considering its round appearance.
“But—” Abigail protested.
“Please, Abigail!” Father corrected. “Greet your betrothed properly.”
“My betrothed? But I told you, he is not my betrothed!” Abigail cut her glance to Tedric. His mouth had formed an O. He stood in place, clutching the statue as though it were the anchor of a sinking ship that he captained. She wanted to run over to him, to shake him out of his stupor. With all her might, she subdued the impulse. The stricken look on his face stopped her. As always, Tedric was a gentleman. In a moment of epiphany, she realized that in his meekness, Tedric displayed more heroism than if he had challenged Cecil to a duel.
“What is the matter with you, Abigail? Of course Lord Sutton is your betrothed. We have spoken of nothing else for the past several months.” Though hardly ever ruffled, at that moment, Father had become flustered. He appealed to Cecil. “Again, I beg your pardon, Lord Sutton.”
Cecil took a swig of his drink. “I had no idea your daughter possessed such an excitable nature.”
“She is not in the habit of displaying such emotion,” Father apologized. “I am certain that once Abigail has overcome the awe she must feel from being in your presence, she will prove to be a most agreeable wife.”
“I shall be an agreeable wife to the man who will be my husband, naturally. But this is not the man I know as my betrothed,” Abigail protested.
“The man you know?” Father asked.
“You already know a man?” The sly smile on Cecil’s face portrayed his obvious intimation.
“Whatever do you mean?” Abigail asked.
“Of course not, Lord Sutton. I assure you—” Father implored.
“Tedric,” Abigail turned her face to the man she loved. “Tedric, do something!”
“What would you have him do?” Cecil asked before Tedric could answer.
Abigail huffed. “I would have him tell you both that he is my betrothed. That is what I would have him do.”
“Indeed?” Cecil’s expression became blank and then he let out a hearty gale of laughter. “You think my baby brother is your intended?”
Abigail gasped. No, it could not be! Tedric couldn’t be the younger brother! He had to be Lord Sutton.
“Baby brother? Tedric is hardly a baby.” She narrowed her eyes at Cecil. “And I don’t believe he is your brother!” Abigail shook so much that controlling her voice was a difficult feat. “How can you be the brother to a man such as Tedric?”
Cecil chuckled. “If you mean the man standing in the corner, yes, that is my younger brother.” Cecil turned to Tedric. “Perhaps there is another side to this story?”
“But of course.” Tedric nodded and returned the statue of Venus to its place before striding toward them with the confidence Abigail had grown to know and love.
“This woman says that you are her betrothed. Do you care to explain?” Cecil tilted the glass to his lips.
“I know nothing about which she speaks. I assure you, this is a misunderstanding.”
“But—” Abigail wasn’t sure whether to scream or to cry. “Tedric, how could you?”
“If you will not explain, then perhaps Miss Pettigrew can enlighten us,” Cecil said.
“Yes, Abigail,” Father agreed.
Abigail looked at Cecil. “I–I—”
“Are you saying that my brother has led you to believe that you were betrothed to him?” Cecil prompted.
Abigail tried to think. “He never said as much, but. . .”
“But what?” Father’s voice was harsh.
Cecil set his glass down on an end table and folded his arms. “Yes. I am interested in learning about your stay with him too.”
“If you are accusing your brother of acting dishonorably, you are mistaken,” Abigail said. “Nothing could be further from the truth. He was nothing less than a gentleman the entire time I remained at the estate,” she informed the men. “He helped me to learn how to be a good wife and to be mistress of the manor.”
Cecil shot a look at Father. “I should think your wife would have seen to her training in managing a large household.”
“My wife performed her duties superbly, and she taught Abigail to do the same,” Father protested. “I have no notion as to why my daughter gives such tribute to your brother.”
Cecil rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger and turned to Tedric. “Indeed. Have you anything to say for yourself?”
“I can say merely this: During Miss Pettigrew’s stay at the estate, I acted the perfect gentleman, and she was always the lady.”
“We only walked in the garden,” Abigail admitted before thinking.
“What?” Father’s voice rose with disapproval. “You allowed this man to take you for a walk, unescorted by a chaperone?” He swept his hand toward Tedric. “And you.” He eyed Tedric with the hatred of a sworn enemy. “You took advantage of her innocence?”
“Never!” Tedric cried.
“Never for a moment!” Abigail agreed. “We barely walked fifty paces down the garden path. Any one of the servants could have come upon us without a moment’s notice.”
“She speaks the truth,” Tedric agreed. “I implore you to interview them if there is any doubt.”
Abigail took her father’s hands in hers. “Father, I am the one who asked Tedric to walk with me, just for a few moments, long enough for me to give him a small gift.”
“You gave him gifts?” Cecil’s tone betrayed his suspicion.
“But I thought, I thought—” Abigail balled a piece of the fabric of her dress in her hand. She sent Tedric a look of appeal. “I thought you were my betrothed.”
“I still do not understand how this could have happened,” Father said. “I was certain you knew, Abigail, that you were betrothed to Lord Sutton, not his younger brother.”
“How was I to know Lord Sutton had a younger brother?” Abigail asked. “How was I to know he had a brother at all? Lord Sutton was never present at the estate. I just assumed. . .”
“She is right,” Cecil admitted. “Had I been at the estate instead of in London and had I taken the least bit of interest in the woman who was to become my bride, Miss Pettigrew would have known without a doubt that I was her betrothed. Instead, I let my brother take the place I should have occupied in her heart and mind.”
“Without intention, I promise you,” Tedric said. “I had no idea that Miss Pettigrew thought for a moment that she and I were engaged to be married. This development comes as as much of a shock to me as it does to you.”
“Does it?” Cecil’s lips curved into an unconvinced bow. “What did you think when you accepted gifts from my betrothed?”
Tedric looked him in the eye. “I believed she was being the lovely young woman that she is—an agreeable future sister-in-law. I thought she was giving me tokens to show her appreciation for my kindness. Af
ter all, she had been abandoned at the estate by her parents.”
“Much to my regret.” Father swallowed, a certain sign that he felt as much remorse as Tedric ever could. He appealed to Cecil. “The night Abigail made the shameful error of attempting to elope with Lord Hanover, your brother rescued her from certain death, as you well know. He did bring Abigail here first, but my wife turned him away without consulting me. He understandably took her to your estate. Where else could he go with her?”
“Indeed.” Cecil nodded.
“Had I been awake,” Father said, “and had I been told about the turn of events, I would have insisted my daughter stay here. She never would have been compromised or could have been in a position to compromise your brother. I extend my deepest apologies for the poor judgment of my wife and the consequences of her decision.”
“Consequences. Yes,” Cecil said. “When we spoke earlier today, I suspected Tedric had become, shall we say, smitten with your daughter.”
Abigail watched Tedric. His lips tightened and a light of guilt entered his eyes. So he did love her too!
Cecil eyed Abigail. “Do you return my younger brother’s affections, Miss Pettigrew?”
Abigail wanted to blurt a resounding yes, but Father’s voice stopped her.
“Of course not, Sutton. Do not be ridiculous.”
Cecil ignored Father and looked Abigail in the eye. “Think carefully before you respond, Miss Pettigrew. A match made with me would be much more profitable to you and your family than a union with my brother. Remember, he stands to inherit none of the Sutton land holdings.” Cecil sneered, “Is that not true, Tedric?”
“That is true. My wealth does not, nor will it ever, compare to my brother’s.” Tedric winced with each word as though he were being pricked with daggers.
“Is money all you care about?” Abigail asked. “Father, you taught me to know better! Did not our Lord and Savior tell the rich young ruler to give up everything he had to follow Him?”
“Mr. Sutton is not your Lord and Savior.”
“No, but he follows my Lord and Savior.” Abigail felt her jaw tighten as she looked at Cecil. “Unlike you, Sir.”
“Please,” Father begged Cecil. “Pay no attention to the ravings of a young girl. Allow me to explain everything.” He turned to Tedric. “If you would be so kind as to excuse us.”
Tedric hesitated long enough to cast a glance at Abigail before he agreed. “I shall be waiting in the carriage, Cecil.”
Abigail watched him depart. She wanted with all her heart to follow him. “May I be excused as well?”
“No. Not until he has situated himself in the carriage.” Father drew the curtain back and observed as Tedric made his way across the front lawn and to the waiting coach.
“Now Abigail.” He nodded. “You may be excused. Do not think you can go after him. I shall be watching through the window.”
Abigail could see from the stern looks on the men’s faces that debate was useless. “Yes, Father. I bid you a good evening, Lord Sutton.” She nodded and curtsied, then fled to the hallway.
So Tedric is not a known gambler and rake after all, but the godly man I have come to know. . .and love!
But her love could not overcome the inevitable. She was betrothed to Cecil, not Tedric. She could never be Tedric’s wife. Unwanted tears filled her eyes. Powerless to resist temptation, she hovered just outside the doorway. She had to listen.
“Once again, I beg your forgiveness, Lord Sutton,” Father said. “Despite my daughter’s words, I do not think for a moment that she has become infatuated with your brother. And if she believes she has, I am certain she is misinterpreting your brother’s kindness for romantic love. You see, she is quite sheltered and innocent. A young girl’s head is easily turned.”
“I already know how easily her head is turned,” Cecil answered. “Henry Hanover and I frequent the same London establishments. He told me about how she attempted to elope with him.”
Although she couldn’t see her father’s face, she could feel his embarrassment. Shame gripped her.
“That was all a misunderstanding,” Father said. “I hope that we can put whatever errors might have happened in the past aside and forget them forever. And as for your brother—”
“It is not the past that concerns me, but the present,” Cecil answered. “And it is not your daughter’s behavior that I find unforgivable, but yours.”
“Mine?”
“Yes.” Cecil paused. “I recently received word from my solicitor that your resources are not all that you first indicated to me.”
She could almost hear Father’s mind working to find a suitable answer. “Our situation has grown worse since the betrothal.”
“Indeed? Are you saying that you cannot provide the dowry you promised?”
“I will try—”
“You will succeed if you want this wedding to take place.”
“I beg your pardon, but how dare you question my integrity! I know not of what so-called deception you speak. When I entered into the contract with you, I had the resources available for the dowry.” Father’s voice betrayed his indignation. “Why, in my younger years, a lesser insult would have constituted a challenge to duel.”
“I have no intention of challenging you to a duel. Even if that were my intent, you would be wise not to act hastily since we would be outside of the law and because your wife will soon deliver of a child.” Cecil’s voice turned soft. “I beg pardon, but if you were to be questioned in a court of law, you would be found guilty of deception, and that you know quite well.”
“I must say, Lord Sutton, I never intended to deceive you in any way. I have always been straightforward about my wealth,” Father elaborated. “As for Abigail, I confess, she acted impetuously in regard to Henry Hanover.” He sighed. “I am not proud of her conduct.”
Father’s words made Abigail blush hot. Mortified, she slid against the wall and sank to the floor.
“Since you are well acquainted with Lord Hanover, you know firsthand how he can charm the ladies,” Father continued.
“According to his recollection, he gave your daughter no encouragement,” Cecil reminded him.
“Perhaps not to his eyes, but your friend is accustomed to the flirtations of sophisticates, women with the experience to discern a man’s true intentions underneath a facade of frivolous conversation. My daughter is neither sophisticated nor flirtatious,” Father said. “In fact, she spends most of her leisure in solitude, writing in her diary, much to the annoyance of her stepmother.” Father chuckled. “I can promise you that Abigail has been sheltered from the world all of her life. There is no doubt in my mind that even Lord Hanover will tell you that she remains unsullied.”
“I am aware of your daughter’s unblemished past, which is the reason I agreed to the betrothal when you first approached me. As for Henry, he has already given me his assurances, and since we are lifelong friends, I trust his word,” Cecil answered.
Abigail breathed a sigh of relief in spite of herself. Although she had thought little of her reputation when she tried to chase Henry to the altar, since meeting Tedric, she had come to treasure her purity.
“I admit, I am not so sure about my brother. I do not blame Miss Pettigrew for her reported behavior since she indeed thought Tedric was her betrothed. But I see a light in his eyes that matches hers.”
“As do I,” Father admitted.
Though Abigail could hear the unhappiness in his voice, she clasped her hands and brought them up to her chest, right where she could feel her beating heart. So even Cecil and her father could see the love in Tedric’s eyes. His love wasn’t the product of her imagination!
“I am sure her childish romantic ideas will pass as soon as you are married. I hope you will not hold her impetuousness against her.” Father’s words filled Abigail with distress.
“I repeat, my quarrel is not with your daughter.”
Cecil’s answer would have pleased any other woman, but not Abigail.
She didn’t want Cecil to forgive her.
Lord in heaven, please lead Lord Sutton to dissolve our contract. Please.
As soon as her silent petition ended, Abigail wondered if she were wrong to pray it. Yet the plea was from the deepest recesses of her heart. Would the Lord see fit to let her live with the love of her life?
“Though your daughter is far from a ravishing London beauty,” Cecil continued, “her appearance is pleasant enough. Her voice, when not raised in vexation, is pleasing to the ears.”
“In that event, you should be eager to wed my daughter,” said Father.
Abigail groaned inwardly.
“I should be,” Cecil said, “except that your deception has been your downfall. When you betrothed me to Abigail, you led me to believe that you were still quite wealthy. My understanding was that your fortune had not been diminished in the least since your family has held this estate.”
“That is correct. I hold the same number of acres—more, even—than my ancestors, including my own father. Abigail’s mother brought with her a not inconsiderable dowry to my first marriage, including additional lands.” Pride rang through his voice. “You can be confident that not one parcel of Pettigrew land has ever been sold for any reason.”
“But your fortune. It has dwindled down to nothing.”
Father hesitated. “ ‘Nothing’ is too strong a word. I admit, my financial situation is not what it once was.” She heard Father set down his own glass with a soft thud. “I thought that was common knowledge.”
His voice had softened to a whisper. Abigail imagined him casting his eyes downward. She winced.
Cecil’s voice bespoke his arrogance. “I knew from reliable sources that your finances were leaner than in the past, but only recently did my London solicitor bring to my attention the extent of your plight.”
“Unfortunately, I was swindled when I made what I thought were prudent business investments.” Father let out a sigh. “My bank accounts have not yet fully recovered. I am certain they will in due course, at which time I can make good on the contract.”
Light Among Shadows Page 14
