by Aria Norton
"Thomas." The boy's voice changed from slightly low pitched to high pitched, like a woman's voice. Thomas swung around, recognising the voice in an instant. "Abigail?" His eyes grew wide as she removed the hat, and her long dark hair fell in luscious curls over her shoulders.
"Yes, it's me, Lord Brampton. Did I fool you? Did I really?" She giggled and placed the hat on his desk. "I thought my disguise was quite clever."
Thomas came around the desk, suddenly fearful of being left alone in his study with her. If anyone found out that she had disguised herself in what he believed to be her brother's clothes, his reputation would be ruined. "Miss Abigail, I must say I am shocked. Why would you come to my house dressed as a man?" Sudden fear overtook him. Was she in danger? "Are you alright? Is someone following you?"
"No, nothing like that." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "In truth, my brother does not know I am here. He forbade me from seeing you again."
Thomas balked. "Why would he do that? We have an agreement." He would not blame her brother for not wanting her to see him again. He was sure his feelings for her had not escaped Joshua. After all, they should have moved forward with a plan by now. Joshua was eager to set this whole drama with Filmore behind them and get on with his career. With Filmore out of the campaign, the door would be wide open for Joshua.
"This is very reckless, Miss Staton. Do you know what would happen if my servants discovered that I was alone in here with a woman?" He took her arm and opened the door, peeking out to see if the coast was clear. "I'm not so afraid of what people would say about me. However, they would rip your reputation to ribbons."
She looked so frail, especially with her brother's clothes hanging loosely around her petite frame. The gossips of London would love to get a juicy tidbit like this to pass around. He could almost hear their voices dripping with disdain. I heard she went to his home unescorted, dressed as a man! The little hussy went to seduce him, no doubt...
"Abigail, you should go home. This is not right."
"Don't you see? This is the way we can expose Filmore," she pleaded, beseeching him to listen to her. "I had an epiphany today. If I could disguise myself - not as a man, but as a maid - I could infiltrate Filmore's house. I could spy on him and gain the information we need first-hand. I hear this woman he's married is very beautiful and very rich. If I could spread some rumors about how he is using her dowry, perhaps people would turn against him."
"No, that is too dangerous. You'll be discovered for sure." He closed the door and pulled her back into the room.
"Please, listen. My brother is getting ready to go on his campaign tour to gain more support from his voters. This will be the perfect time to catch Filmore and finish him. If I need to see you, I can disguise myself in my brother's clothes and come here just as I have tonight. That way, we won't have to worry about disgracing either you or my brother. I will hide in plain sight, Lord Brampton, don't you see? It's genius." Abigail rattled on excitedly, waving her arms about as she spoke.
"What if Filmore recognises you? What if he finds out what you are doing? He’s a dangerous man, Abigail. I cannot bear the thought of him hurting you."
"This woman he's married deserves to know the truth about him. I imagine he's lied to her about his background, just like he lied to Elisa. My brother needs this, Lord Brampton. If he doesn't get elected to the post, we're ruined. We'll be forced to leave London and go live with my mother on the coast." She sighed heavily and turned away from him, grasping the rim of her hat. "I don't want to leave... London."
At first, he thought she was going to say, I don't want to leave you... At the last second she changed her mind, a deep blush crawling up her lovely white throat and colouring her cheeks. He touched her cheek, lifting her chin with his hand. He could see her pulse drumming in her throat, and for a split second, he imagined touching his lips to the spot. He quickly threw the idea out of his mind and turned away from her. He did not trust himself. Her presence was too intoxicating, and he would not put her reputation at risk.
"I can understand your predicament. I had thought to put this whole plan to a stop before you got here. I have had a lot of time to think about the implications of what we are doing, should we be successful in this venture. We will not only be destroying one evil man’s life, but his wife's as well. I do not think I can live with that on my conscience. No matter what Filmore has done, his wife is innocent. She does not deserve to live a life of pittance because her husband is a fool and a cad."
Abigail took a step back from him, her eyes registering pain. "What is your relationship to Filmore's wife? Is she why you wanted to ruin him?"
Thomas's throat went dry. He was caught, and there was no covering his tracks now. He took a step closer to her and grasped her hand, enveloping hers with both of his. "I'm so sorry, Abigail. I should have told you sooner." He took a steadying breath. "Sarah Filmore was my fiancé. He charmed her away and stole her affections from me."
Abigail pulled her hand free, shaking her head. “No! I knew it..." she mumbled.
"You knew? How?" His heart beat wildly, his stomach turning with nausea. The last thing he had wanted to do was to hurt her. Now, he could see that he was losing her to his own foolish pride. He should have known that everything kept in the dark was always brought to light, one way or another.
She looked up at him, tears filling her eyes. He hated that he had hurt her. He took a step towards her, trying to take her hand again. She sidestepped him and walked around the desk, needing to put some space between them.
"She was your fiancée? And that is why you came to us for help?" The brunt of his betrayal shone in her eyes. She sniffed, lifting her chin. He watched the pain leave her eyes, replaced by cold indifference. That was even worse. He tried to come around the desk, but she held her hand up. "No, please. Don't. I need to think," she said. She wound her hair around her finger and twisted it up into a tight bun on top of her head. Replacing the hat, she walked towards the door.
"If you would like me to go through with the plan, I am willing to go ahead with it. Perhaps there is a way to spare Sarah and still ruin Filmore's career." She would not meet his gaze. "I'll see myself out."
He grabbed her arm before she could go. "Please, I'll see you home. Did you hire a hackney to come here?"
"No, I walked."
His heart stopped at her admission. "You walked? Are you mad, Abigail? Do you know what can happen to a woman on these streets?"
She jerked her arm free and squared her shoulders. "I was not a woman when I walked here. That is, people did not see me thus. I was a man, free to walk about as he pleased. Do not concern yourself with me, Lord Brampton. I made it here safely and I will make it home safely, too. Good night."
She opened the door and was about to walk out when Thomas slammed it shut. "This is foolishness. Be upset with me if you will. But do not put your life in danger. I will see you home in my carriage, and that is the end of it."
She looked up at him with such loathing that his heart broke. "Very well. You may see me home."
They rode the whole way in stony silence. He berated himself for not telling her sooner about his past relationship with Sarah. Perhaps she only needed time to think, as she had said. Maybe she would come around, and their relationship would go back to the way it had been. How could he explain to her that his feelings for her far outweighed what they had been for Sarah? However, he could not bring himself to break the silence. There was a wall between them now. He sensed that it would take some time to break through to her again.
As the carriage pulled up to her home, she opened the door herself and bounded down the step. Instead of going in through the front door, she headed around the alley to go in through the servants’ entrance. He got out of the carriage and followed her, wanting to be sure that she made it safely inside.
"You did not have to see me to the door," she said through clenched teeth.
"I did, actually. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk in
a dark alleyway alone?"
She turned on him, halting him in his tracks with the flash of anger in her eyes. "Go home, Lord Brampton." She then ducked into the doorway of the servants’ entrance and was gone.
He turned away, sighing heavily as he walked back to his carriage. His boots made a sharp sound that echoed off the walls of the houses surrounding him. "I'm sorry..." he whispered into the night, walking away from her home and, he feared, of any hope of winning her back.
Chapter 21
Abigail slammed the door to the servants’ entrance, panting as she leaned her back against the wooden frame. A sob escaped her lips and she hung her head, feeling the weight of loss envelop her. She had been so foolish! To think that Thomas would want her, could ever love her, was preposterous. He was a lord of the realm, and she a lowly doctor's daughter without title or position.
For a moment, she had imagined he was going to kiss her. However, when he had told her that Sarah Filmore had been his fiancée, she had felt something in her snap inside her. Of course he would not be attracted to Abigail! His whole reason for coming to her and Joshua was to fight for his lost love, Sarah.
Pushing herself away from the kitchen door, she made her escape from before Betsy could find her. Besides, she needed to get changed out of her brother's clothes and hide them before he came home. Hopefully, he was in a better mood than he had been that afternoon. If he found out she had defied him and gone to see Lord Brampton anyway, he would be livid. Worse, he would probably send her away to live with their mother. She could not bear that.
She made her way through the darkened halls, bumping her hip on one of the tables. Letting out a muffled curse, she tried to be more careful and still hurry. She should have listened to her brother and not gone to see Thomas. Joshua had been right about him being dangerous, just not in the way Joshua had supposed.
Once in the safety of her room, she rang for Mazzie and had her draw a bath. She wrapped herself in her linen dressing gown while she waited. Curling up on the window seat, she stared out at the sky full of blinking stars. Why had she allowed herself to fall in love with Thomas? He was so far above her, and Lady Sarah was the most beautiful woman in London.
Abigail had been blinded by her growing affections for him, imagining that he felt the same way. Why had he been spending so much time with her if he did not care for her in that way? He had used her, leading her to believe she meant something more to him that she actually did.
From everything she had heard, Lady Sarah was her exact opposite. Sarah had wealth, title, and class. That was all that mattered to men like Thomas Brampton. He would never stoop to be with a lowly politician's sister.
Standing, she went to the bathroom door and watched Mazzie finish preparing the bath. "Mazzie, do you have a copy of the newspaper still available from this morning?"
"Yes, Miss. I'll go and fetch it for you from the dining room."
Mazzie left and Abigail sank into the warm water, sighing heavily. Nothing was going to take the ache in her heart away. Not for as long as she lived. Lord Brampton had treated her with respect, listening to her opinions without judgment. Her brother used to do the same for her, but he had grown more obstinate and petty in his attitudes toward her in the last few weeks.
With some time away from each other, maybe their relationship would go back to the way it was. Joshua was leaving London in the morning to go on his campaign trail. With any luck, she would be able to get the information they needed on Filmore and put this whole loathsome business behind them.
"Your paper, Miss." Mazzie came into the room, holding the paper out to her. Abigail flipped to the advertisement page, scanning for the Filmores’ name. She had heard that Mrs. Filmore was looking to hire more servants for their home.
"Ahh, there we have it!" Abigail said, pointing to an advertisement for an upstairs maid. "For hire: a live-in housemaid is required at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Filmore. Board and meals will be provided. £3 per quarter. Please send a note to 13 Brunswick Square to apply."
"What is that, Miss? You're not thinking of sending me away, are you? Please, Miss, if I have displeased you..." Mazzie clasped her hands in front of her chest in supplication.
"Nonsense, Mazzie. Do calm down," Abigail said. "I've no intention of sending you away. No, I was merely curious about the new Mrs. Filmore. Tell me, what do you know of the Filmore scandal?"
Abigail folded the paper and set it down on the bathroom floor.
“It is said she left her old fiancé to marry Sir Filmore. Betsy says she's locked up in that new house of hers, and her husband took all her money."
"Is that so?" Abigail said. No wonder Thomas was so set on destroying Sir Filmore. Was he planning something more sinister than just financial ruin? It would leave the path open for him to get Sarah back if Filmore were to meet with an untimely end...
"Are you alright, Miss? You look a bit pale."
"I'm perfectly well, thank you, Mazzie. You may go." Abigail dismissed her and went back to her thoughts. She must find a way to gain entrance to the Filmore house. It was the only way they would be able to collect some concrete evidence against the man. And although Abigail would never have admitted it aloud, she was curious to see if Sarah's legendary beauty was all that people had made it out to be.
***
Abigail went around to the Filmore house the next afternoon after receiving a note from Mrs. Filmore, giving Abigail instructions to see her housekeeper at her earliest convenience. Her heart pounded with excitement. She had never done anything so daring.
She needn't have worried. Her interview with the housekeeper went swimmingly. By tea time, she was off to the house to collect a small carpet bag of her belongings. The housekeeper required her immediately. The house needed a proper cleaning after the bustle of moving everything in a few weeks prior.
Abigail had no idea what to expect. She pulled Mazzie into her room to ask her some questions about what she should do at her new post.
"You're going to be a maid, Miss? Why ever would you do that?" Mazzie asked, dumbfounded.
"Never mind about that. Tell me what I am supposed to do. Will you show me before I go back tonight? I've never lit a fire before."
And so Mazzie showed her how to light a fire and polish silver. Abigail would not be completely incompetent, as she did help with some of the household chores. She needed to keep her head down and work hard so as not to blow her cover.
That evening she set off for Number 13, having written a short note to Lord Brampton explaining where she had gone. Knowing Sir Filmore's character, she did not want to be in his house with no one aware of her whereabouts. Should something go wrong, she would be able to send for him to help.
The housekeeper got her settled in her room, and she went down to dinner shortly afterward. There were three other housemaids, all of whom had been working for the last week or so. Abigail felt her palms grow slick with sweat as she sat down, hoping that she would do nothing to give herself away.
Keeping quiet for most of the meal, she used the time to watch the other servants and learn as much as she could about Filmore. The quicker she could find something of use, the faster she could go home.
The meal passed in relative silence, though. And before Abigail knew it, the maids were standing to retire for the evening. Abigail followed them up to the attic rooms where the ladies slept. The male servants stayed in the basement living quarters, which put her mind more at ease.
Her roommate was asleep before her head even touched the pillow, so Abigail could not ascertain her name. She reflected on how lonely a servant's life must be, separated from family. Even with all their differences, she was glad she had Joshua. She was glad that this was not her real life. Yet. If things kept on as they had, she might find herself in need of taking a position such as this. Even so, the life of a housemaid was better than living in the country with her hypochondriac mother and prattling aunt.
"Hey, Abby.Time to get up." Abigail opened her eyes grog
gily. Faint grey light could be seen at the window, alerting her to the early hour.
