by Aria Norton
Never see Lord Brampton again? Would he really be so cruel as to use her and then cast her aside once he had attained his goal? She did not think him capable of such coldness. Then again, she barely knew him.
She took up her own copy of the newspaper. She saw that the headlines carried news of John Bellingham, the man who had assassinated the Prime Minister.
John Bellingham to be hanged tomorrow morning... the headline read. Justice had been served quickly, his hanging coming just one week after the assassination. "They want to get this Prime Minister business over with quickly, don't they?" Abigail asked aloud.
Joshua looked up at her and nodded, "Yes. They are afraid that if they give it too much light in the papers that they will have more unrest from it."
"You would think they would make more of a fuss from the Prime Minister being killed." Abigail continued reading. An inquest had been held a few days later, and he had been found guilty. There was no love lost between the people and Spencer Perceval, many of them viewing him as a tyrant who did his best to strip them of their liberties.
"They would rather get this put behind us and set the new Prime Minister in a quickly as possible. Perceval was not a favourite with the people."
"That is true. I was not a fan of him, to be sure. However, he was a human being. It does not sit well with me that people are so cavalier with their comments on the poor man's death."
"I know, Abby. How is it that you have such a political bent to your mind and can be so compassionate towards people? You are always telling me I need to be more forthcoming with how I speak. I cannot understand how one can be both harsh and kind at the same time."
"You think me harsh?"
"I did not mean it like that," Joshua said, his tone softening for the first time in a long while.
"I want to see justice prevail, but it is always with the intent of helping others. You can be passionate about seeing wrongs righted and still have compassion for people, Joshua." Abigail stood, her emotions getting the better of her.
"Abby, wait. I did not mean to say that you are two-faced by any means. Please forgive me. I suppose I am only wondering how you do it." Joshua followed her out into the hall, stopping in the archway leading into the simple dining room.
Turning, she gave him a weak smile. "I don't know how to be any other way, brother."
"That is what I love about you, little sister." He closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her elbows. "I am sorry I have been so churlish lately. I am under so much stress, although I know that is not a good excuse. You have been a great help to me since coming to live with me. Thank you."
It took Abigail no small effort to keep the tears from streaming down her cheeks. She did not want to explain to her brother that it was not his words that had made her so miserable, but his threat of severing ties with Lord Brampton. "You are most welcome, brother."
She gave him a quick hug and then escaped to her room, leaving him scratching his head.
"Women. I shall never understand them..." he mumbled and then went back into the dining room to finish his lunch.
When she reached the safety of her room, she let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps her brother's threats were empty, but she doubted it. She needed to find a way to prolong their arrangement with Lord Brampton.
"Do not turn into one of those silly girls overnight just so you can chase after a man, Abigail Staton," she berated herself. She needed to keep a level head. Her brother had been right. It was likely that Lord Brampton was just being kind to her, that it was his nature to make her feel at ease in his company. He would get what he needed from her and Joshua when Sir Filmore met his political demise, and then Lord Brampton would have no further use for her.
A stabbing pain ripped through her heart. She must build up her walls against his charming smiles and mesmerising blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. No one had ever looked at her the way he had. Or was she just imagining what she wanted to see?
She let the tears flow freely down her cheeks. "You are a fool, Abigail. A simpering, childish fool..."
Chapter 19
Weeks passed, with Thomas and Abigail spending almost every day with one another. Her brother had been absent most of the time, spending his days at the gaming club or the House of Commons. The tension Thomas had felt between the siblings had only grown over the last few weeks, as well as Joshua's unease with the plans.
He had also felt that his relationship with Joshua had changed after his ride atop the carriage. His stubbornness and hardness of heart had kept him from sharing a carriage with Elisa. How wrong had Thomas been about him? At their first meeting, he had thought him to be caring and compassionate. He had turned out to be more unbending in his so-called morals than he would have thought a religious man should be.
Joshua had told him several times of his original plans to join the church, which his father had squashed as quickly as possible. Thomas would have thought that a religious man, such as Joshua claimed to be, would have more compassion for Lady Elisa's situation. She had not gone away with Filmore out of a sinful desire. He had lied to her and told her that they would get married. He was the one who had broken faith with her.
Thomas felt sorry for the young woman. She had been brought unbearably low by her situation. Disowned by her family, abandoned by her friends; they had left her to rot in the workhouse. There had been no one to comfort her as she watched her child deteriorate before her eyes, unable to do anything to save him.
He and Abigail had been able to spend several evenings talking with her before. She had spent three days sleeping after her rescue from the deplorable conditions of the workhouse. Thomas had allowed her to stay in one of his guest rooms, charging his housekeeper with her care. She had recovered quickly, though, a testament to her youth. If she had been an old woman, she would have been harder to revive.
With a bath and a new simple cotton dress, she looked quite respectable. In truth, she was very beautiful. Thomas could see why Filmore had chosen her as his prey. She was still thin, but she would fill out again as she got proper nutrition and rest. "And work. I need work, Lord Brampton. I cannot stay here and risk damaging your reputation."
He had been able to find a suitable position for Lady Elisa, writing her a reference to help her get started in her new life. She had changed her name to Miss Elisabeth Kenton, dropping her title altogether to give her a clean start. She was working as a maid for one of Thomas's acquaintances whom he knew through the House of Lords.
As the first week of June passed and he had not seen Abigail for near three days, he found that he was desperate to see her. He decided to send his calling card, something he had not done since their first meetings.
Sitting down at his writing desk, he began drafting a letter to send along with his card. He had been thinking of putting a stop to his plans for vengeance. Would it not be better for them to let Sir Filmore go? Surely his sins would catch up with him sooner or later?
Dear Miss Abigail,
I hope that I may come to call this evening. I have been having second thoughts about this venture we are on. I will pay you for your trouble, the extra one thousand pounds I had promised when we had successfully completed our plans.
However, this does not mean that we cannot see each other going forward. I would very much like to continue our...
What would he call their relationship exactly? He knew what he wished it to be—a courtship. However, he would need to end this charade and ask her brother for his permission to court her. With the silent strain that had been building between him and Joshua over the last few weeks, he was unsure if he would give his permission. He would have to convince him to give it, no matter what it cost him. All her knew was that he needed Abigail in his life.
He scribbled out the words, crumpling the paper up and throwing it away. He could not bring himself to stop his meetings with Abigail. She was too much a part of his life now. Over the last few days of separation from her, he had realised
how much he cared for her. Could it be love?
Smiling to himself, he put his quill and inkwell away. His love for Sarah had been childish; a mere infatuation. She had been beautiful, to be sure. Looking back now, he realised the signs of her indifference towards him. No doubt she had seen him as a safe choice, her parents’ choice for her.
His feelings for Abigail were different. He wanted to ask her questions just to hear what her answer would be. She was brilliant, as well as beautiful. How had he ever thought she was not as attractive as Sarah? Abigail far surpassed his ex-fiancé in his estimation now. For there was more to beauty than outward appearance.
Sarah had been his equal as far as title and status. However, she had never been his equal in spirit or mind. They would have made each other miserable. It had taken Sir Filmore stealing her from him to realise it. In truth, he had done Thomas a service in marrying Sarah before he had had the chance.
He could never imagine his life without Abigail. She had forever ruined him for any other woman.
***
"I forbid it, Abigail! Do you hear me? I do not want Lord Brampton in this anymore."
Abigail had to breathe deeply to keep herself from lashing out at her brother. He had been growing more agitated with her visits from Lord Brampton as the weeks passed. In truth, their conversations had centered more around religion, politics, and economics than their plan to ruin Sir Filmore. Abigail could sense Lord Brampton's hesitancy to start in on their plans. She was more than happy to stall, for she dreaded the day that Joshua would tell her she must quit her association with the man she was quickly coming to love.
"We have an agreement with Lord Brampton, Joshua. Perhaps you have forgotten that he has already paid us two-thousand pounds. I do not think we can afford to refund it now, do you?" She watched the blood drain from his face.
"No, we cannot. All the same, I do not think it is proper for Lord Brampton to come to the house every night of the week. People are beginning to notice, Abigail. I have been asked several times by different colleagues what the nature of your relationship is with the man."
"Are you suggesting that I have been inappropriate in my behavior towards the gentleman? That he has used me ill in any way?" Abigail could feel herself starting to lose control of her emotions. How dare he accuse her of impropriety? It was he that refused to be a part of their meetings anymore. However, Abigail had not allowed any room for suspicion. Mazzie acted the chaperone to make sure everything stayed above board, working on mending in the corner while they visited.
"I am not accusing you of anything. But one must keep up appearances, Abby. People are beginning to question your character. Why, Mrs. Bunting even thinks it odd that you are spending so much time with an unmarried man. Especially a man that has not formally asked to court you. What am I to tell people?" he bellowed as he poured himself a drink.
Abigail watched him down the whole glass in one drink and decided to leave before he became even more impossible. She turned as she came to the archway leading out of the study. "I'm sorry to say it, brother, but I hardly know you anymore." He looked wounded for a moment but quickly replaced it with a stony scowl.
"I could say the same for you, sister dear. It does not matter. You are under my protection and must do as I say. And I say that you will not see Lord Brampton again. Is that clear?" He downed another drink, swallowing loudly. If he kept this up, he would be passed out under the table before dinner was served. Bristling, she lifted her chin in silent rebellion.
"Perfectly." She turned on her heels and left the room, escaping to her bedchamber. "He has no right to dictate to me. He is not Father." She slammed her bedroom door and huffed. Glancing at her writing desk, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Joshua had said he did not want Lord Brampton to come to their house anymore. He had said nothing about her going to his house.
She took out a sheet of paper and her quill and wrote a hasty note to Lord Brampton.
Dear Sir,
I would be most happy to see you this evening to discuss our plans. However, I will need to come to your home this time if it is agreeable.
Sincerely,
Abigail Staton
She folded the note and had Mazzie send the hall boy to deliver it. She felt guilty at her omission as to her brother forbidding her to see him again. Suppose she planned her visits with Lord Brampton for the evenings when Joshua had dinner at the club? In that case, she could easily keep up her visits without being caught.
How would she get out of the house without being recognised, though? That was the main problem. Their servants were loyal to Joshua and would be sure to tell him what she was up to. No, she needed a way to see Lord Brampton without being recognised. Her brother had made her angry, but she did not want to ruin his career even further by bringing scandal upon his household.
Abigail stood, pacing before her bedroom window. "Ahh! If only women could move about as freely as men!"
Abigail halted, her mind sparking with an idea. Women were not allowed to travel alone, were looked down on if they were not accompanied by a maid. However, a man was not given a second glance when walking about the city on his own. She went to her full-length mirror and pulled her hair up behind her head. She took a hat from the peg and placed it over her hair, tucking up the loose strands so they were completely hidden underneath.
A small smile played her lips. She rang for Mazzie and then went back to the mirror. "Perhaps it is time to get another glimpse of the freedom men enjoy."
Chapter 20
Thomas waited nervously in the parlour for Abigail to arrive. They had never met at his home which, looking back, he did not understand the reasoning for. It had always been easier for him to go to their home. A small part of him wished to impress her and share this piece of his life where he and his father shared so many good memories.
The time of their appointment came and went, the minutes ticking by like hours before the butler came in to announce her.
"Finally." He breathed a sigh of relief. "I was worried something had happened to her."
The butler glanced around nervously. "No, My Lord. Miss Staton has not arrived yet. There is a strange-looking young man asking to see you, though. He says he has important business to discuss with you, but he looks like a low-class menial. Shall I send him away?"
Thomas was intrigued. "No, I'll see him in the study. Please let me know the minute Miss Staton arrives." Thomas went to the study while the butler went to fetch the young man from the foyer. He did not have time for a lengthy meeting, and after checking his pocket watch, he sat down at the desk. His thoughts drifted as he waited. Why had Abigail decided it would be better for them to meet at his house? She and her brother did not have a carriage, making it harder and more expensive for them to travel across town.
He stood, realising his rudeness too late. He should have sent his carriage for them! What if they had been caught in traffic or the hackney had overturned? Thinking that she might require assistance, he made to walk out of the study when the butler appeared with the young man.
He was taken aback by how strange the lad looked. He could not be more than fifteen years old. His face was devoid of whiskers and his hat had an odd bunched up to look, sitting slightly askew on the top of his head.
"Thank you, my good man. My business with Lord Brampton is private," the boy said, dismissing his butler.
The butler gave him a disdainful look, glancing at Thomas for his dismissal instead. "It's alright, Fulton. Please let me know when my other guest arrives."
He closed the door to the study, meaning to put this whelp in his place as soon as his butler was out of earshot. "Now, Mr...?"
"Hello, Lord Brampton," the boy said. A smile broke out over his face, and Thomas looked closer. He did not recognise the young man, nor think they had been introduced before. However, he met so many people during the London season that he might have been presented at one of the balls a few months prior.
"I'm sorry. I do not seem
to remember you." Thomas motioned for the boy to take a seat before the desk and went around to sit behind it himself. "What can I do for you?"
