by Aria Norton
He had no idea Joshua had been so against him. Although, after everything that had happened in recent weeks, he hardly could blame him. Had Abigail told Joshua everything that had transpired between them?
He shook his head. Abigail deserved so much better than him, whether she believed it or not. What kind of man would plot against his rival the way he had? And why would Abigail ever think of being with him after finding out he was engaged to Sarah?
"What are you doing?" she asked when she came back into the room. He spun around, noticing the red bloom spreading across her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. I found it and figured since it was for me that you wouldn't mind me reading it." He held up the letter she had written for him. In no way did he want to allude to the fact that he had also snooped inside her brother's letter.
"I'd meant to throw that away when I got home," she said, tucking stray hairs behind her ears.
"And this?" he asked, holding up the money.
"I would have returned it regardless. The deal is off," she said. She set the tray down on the side table and began pouring him a cup of tea. She spun on her heels, crossing her arms as she got down to business.
Thomas came and sat down as she handed him a cup of tea. He was afraid of making things worse, so he decided to take Miss Voss's advice and let her speak first. She sat down with her own cup of tea and squared her shoulders. "I will help you on two conditions. First, we will keep our dealings professional and above board."
"Done," he interrupted. She gave him an annoyed look, and he immediately bit his lip.
"Second, you will put in a good word for my brother with your business partners." She let out a breath, "All his financial and political problems are my fault. I need to make it right."
"It is not your fault. If anything, you have helped him become an even better politician."
"And that is why he is coming back to London in disgrace, is it?" she asked, giving a sardonic laugh.
"Some people are not cut out for this kind of life. You said as much about Joshua."
"I suppose I did. I've ruined the family with this scheme, though. My father would be rolling in his grave if he were alive."
"If he were alive, he would be doing a bit more digging than rolling," Thomas replied. Abigail scowled at him. He could have kicked himself for putting his foot in his mouth again. But then she cracked a smile and began to laugh.
"Yes, he would, wouldn't he?" Her laughter filled the room, and for the first time in hours, Thomas felt himself relax.
"Well, then, it would seem we have an accord?"
"Yes. Let's not allow this scheme to get quite so out of hand, shall we?"
Thomas stuck out his hand, and Abigail took it. They shook on it, sealing the deal. "Agreed."
Chapter 29
A few nights later, Thomas and Abigail rode to a formal dinner. Anyone who was anyone would be there, and that was where they would execute their plan.
"Let's go over the plan again to be sure it goes over without a hitch," Thomas suggested as they bumped along the darkened streets toward the home of Lord and Lady Waitsmith.
"Very well. You will distract Sir Filmore and draw him into a conversation in front of everyone in the middle of the dance floor. We have a better chance of avoiding violence if you do so for everyone to see," Abigail began, keeping a professional tone. The earlier warmth they had enjoyed in their relationship was gone. Thomas nodded, feeling sorry that he had not been able to break through her walls.
"Right. While I'm occupying Sir Filmore, you will pull Sarah aside and make your escape out of the servant's entrance. The carriage will be waiting just outside the alleyway. My coachman will take you to my home, where I will meet you as soon as I am sure you are both away safely."
Abigail nodded. "Remember, you just admit defeat. Play to his ego and make him think he has won." She sighed nervously, "I wish you would have let Sarah in on our plan. What if something goes wrong?"
"Sarah was never good at keeping secrets. If I had told her, we would have run the risk of alerting Filmore. No, it's better that she be in the dark. She knows I've been working on a plan. That is enough." Thomas tried not to let his nervousness show. He needed Abigail to trust him. After Sarah was safely away from Filmore, they could look more into his background and perhaps discover if what Joshua had said was true.
If Filmore really was Jedediah Graham, that could be grounds for Sarah to divorce the blackguard. She would live the rest of her life as a social outcast, but at least she would have a few small comforts if she could get her dowry away from Filmore. That was, if he hadn't already squandered it.
Thomas took her hand, and she tensed. He would not let go, however, until she looked him in the eye. "Please be careful tonight. I don't want anything to happen to you." He gave her hand a light squeeze. "And we ought to at least look like we are having a good time together. We don't want to attract undue attention."
Abigail took her hand away and gave him an icy stare. "I will play the part, don't worry."
Thomas clenched his fist, feeling the absence of her hand. He scooted to the other side of the carriage seat, looking out of the window at the soft moonlight. "I'm sorry, Abigail. I know you don't trust me right now, but I hope someday we will be able to be friends again. I miss you..."
Abigail gave him a startled look but had no time to answer, for the carriage pulled up in front of the house. He bounded out of the carriage and helped her down, joining several other couples who were arriving at the same time.
Thomas looked around the crowded foyer, keeping an eye out for Sarah and Filmore. Surely he would not want to miss such a prestigious honor as this. Lord and Lady Waitsmith were known for their parties, and Filmore would be a fool to bypass their invitation. Thomas had no need to worry, though.
As he escorted Abigail into the ballroom, he spotted Filmore chatting loudly in the corner with some of his friends. He looked as if he had got an early start on drinking. His guffaws were much too loud, and his manner sloppy. His attire was the best money could buy, however. No doubt he had used Sarah's money to pay for a whole new wardrobe.
Thomas searched the faces for Sarah, hoping that she had come with Filmore. It took some time to find her, but he finally saw her standing in the corner, surrounded by a flock of other ladies. It would make it difficult to secret her away if they could not separate her from them.
"There's trouble," Thomas mumbled as he pulled Abigail out onto the dance floor.
"What do you mean?" she asked, looking around at the people crowding the edges of the ballroom floor.
"Filmore already looks the worse for wear and Sarah is surrounded. I wonder if he caught wind of what we are planning."
"Certainly not?" Abigail said, alarmed. "We haven't even told Sarah."
"Even so, she must have tipped him off by acting nervously or something. He is a very jealous man, by all accounts of him."
Abigail huffed, "So he is allowed to have affairs and be disagreeable, but Sarah is not I suppose?"
"Of course not. No man would allow his wife to be unfaithful to him. It is a matter of honor and pride." Thomas shook his head. "No matter. We can discuss that injustice of it all when we are safely away. For now, try to look like you are having a happy time. Smile." He grinned down at her and pulled her closer to his chest. She blushed and did her best to return his smile, but he could tell she was anxious about their scheme. What if he was putting her in danger? Filmore was unpredictable, more so when he was drinking. Perhaps he should call the whole thing off and try to rescue Sarah on his own.
When the dance ended, he took her hand and looped it through his arm. She stiffened but pasted a smile on her face. Leading her out onto the patio, he thought it would be good for them to clear their thoughts before they dove into their plan.
Away from prying eyes, she unlinked her arm from his and walked along the marble railing. The evening was warm, and the stars twinkled above them. Moonlight fell softly on her hair and shoulders, causin
g an aching longing in his chest. If only they could be here simply to enjoy each other's company.
"Thank you for agreeing to help me with this. I don't know what I would do without you," he said, trying to break the silence.
"You're welcome." Abigail was not going to make it easy for him. He wished that there was a way to show how much he cared for her.
"We should probably go back in. They will be announcing dinner soon." Abigail started back towards the ballroom and Thomas followed, feeling as dejected as ever. He did not want to have to endure the loud chattering of the guests. Wishing he could have Abigail all to himself, he reluctantly traded the peace of the moon-washed patio for the bright, warm, and overcrowded ballroom.
"Shall we dance once more before dinner?" Thomas held out his hand and waited for Abigail to take it. However, they were interrupted by Filmore and his entourage before she had a chance.
"Good evening, Lord Brampton. I'm glad I ran into you," he slurred. He stumbled slightly, sloshing champagne over his new waistcoat. "Blast!" One of his friends, who was not as drunk as he was, started dabbing the waistcoat with his handkerchief until Filmore pushed him aside. "Let it alone, man. My wife will have it sorted. Yes. My wife. Sorry, Thomas, old chap, but you see I have won her."
Thomas felt his face grow hot with fury. But then he remembered Abigail's words, glancing at her. She nodded and started moving away to go in search of Sarah. This was their chance, perhaps the only one they would have all evening. Thomas' throat suddenly became dry. He needed to lure Filmore as far away from Sarah and Abigail as possible, giving them a chance to escape out of the side door.
He took a step back and started to walk away towards the middle of the dance floor. Just as he suspected, Filmore was not going to allow him to get out so easily. "Don't turn your back on me!" Filmore screeched, catching up to him. Thomas turned, just in time to dodge the champagne glass that Filmore had aimed at his face.
"Control yourself, Filmore. I have no quarrel with you," Thomas said through clenched teeth. Everyone in the room turned as the champagne glass shattered on the floor a few feet behind Thomas. "I suggest you go home, Filmore, and sleep off your drink."
Filmore puffed up like a peacock, ready for a fight. "I will do no such thing! I have as much right to be here as you. Admit it; you're jealous that Sarah chose me over you. Well, no matter what you think you can do, she is mine! Do you hear me! MINE!" he bellowed. Filmore's friends tried to calm him down, but he only shook them off.
"I don't want your wife, Filmore. You're right. You've won." Thomas tried to remain calm. He glanced at Abigail, who had reached Sarah. The ladies who had been surrounding her were all from Filmore's tight social circle. No doubt he had invited them along to keep watch over his wife. Reporting on her every move. However, they had forgotten entirely about Sarah, engrossed in the drama unfolding before them. He watched Abigail get Sarah's attention and motion her over.
Filmore followed Thomas's gaze. He jumped in front of Filmore, quickly trying to avert his attention from the ladies who were making their escape into the hall. "Filmore, I say again, there is no need for us to quarrel. I am not after your wife."
Filmore brushed him off and stumbled backward into one of his cronies. "Don't touch me. I know you are jealous that Sarah agreed to marry me over you. You never knew how to excite her as I do." He gave a wicked grin, insinuating Thomas' inability to make a woman happy.
Keeping his emotions under control with some difficulty, he glanced again at the door. Sarah and Abigail were talking in hushed tones by the doorway. No doubt Abigail was having to explain what was going on before Sarah would follow her. Hurry, he thought silently.
Filmore turned again, but this time, Thomas could not step in front of his view of the ladies in time. He spotted Sarah with Abigail, having slipped away from her 'escorts.'
Thomas watched as Abigail tugged Sarah out of the ballroom and into the hall, seeing that their secret was up. Filmore turned on Thomas and let out a growl of rage. "You are trying to steal my wife, Brampton!" He then pulled a small knife from his waistcoat and charged the door through which Abigail and Sarah had just fled.
"No!" Thomas yelled, going after him. He was able to catch hold of his coat tail, pulling Filmore back with as much force as he could muster. The ballroom exploded with screams as people tried to get away from the fight. Filmore slashed dangerously close to Thomas's face, but thankfully he was able to duck out of the way right before the blade came in contact with his right eye. Thomas was flung backward, landing hard on his side. He scrambled back to his feet and went in pursuit of Filmore, who was now crashing down the hallway like a madman.
His cronies were fast on his heels, chasing Thomas down as they tried to catch up. Filmore let out another guttural scream as he followed the ladies down into the kitchens. Thomas could hear several of the cooks and kitchen maids scream in terror as Filmore burst into the room.
"Where is she!" he screamed, spittle spraying from his mouth like a wild animal. "Where is she!"
The cooks and maids looked at each other, wondering who in the world he was talking about. Thomas caught up with him then, tackling him to the floor. "Someone, please help me restrain this man!" he pleaded. However, before the footmen could come to his aid, Filmore's friends arrived on the scene. One of them landed a punch squarely on Thomas's jaw, and the fight was on.
Chapter 30
Abigail could hear footsteps pounding behind her. Her breath came in short gasps as she held onto Sarah's hand and dragged her down the corridor.
"He's coming!" Sarah yelled, squealing in fear. "He's going to kill me if he catches us."
Abigail pulled her down the steps leading to the kitchens, giving neither of them time to rest. "No he won't. Thomas won't allow that. We've got a carriage waiting for us just outside the servants’ entrance," Abigail explained quickly.
They made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen, asking one of the maids for directions to the side door.
The maid looked like they were crazy, wondering why they were below stairs. The girl simply pointed, too shocked to answer.
"Thank you," Abigail said, out of breath. Her stays were making it hard to breathe with all the excitement. But they had to press on. "This way." Abigail pulled Sarah along behind her. Sarah seemed to be frozen in fear.
They burst out of the side door, expecting to see the carriage ready to go. Abigail searched right and left of the alleyway, but the coach was nowhere to be seen. "Where is it?! she shrieked, afraid for their lives now. Thomas had told his coachman the exact place to wait for them. He must have misunderstood.
"Come on," Abigail whispered harshly. She could hear a ruckus ensuing from the kitchens and knew they would not have much time if they were going to get away in time. Sarah dissolved into tears, blubbering about how Filmore was going to find her.
"He's not going to let me go. He said if I ever tried to leave he'd kill me. Oh, God! I don't want to die. I don't want to die like this," Sarah stammered through the onslaught of tears. Abigail put her hand over Sarah's mouth and pulled her behind some crates littering the alleyway. Sarah let out a surprised squeal, trying to rip Abigail's hands away. But Abigail was stronger than her and kept her hand firmly clamped over her mouth.
"Be quiet, Sarah. I know you are frightened. I am too. But if we are going to make our escape, we have to work together." There was no time for anything else, for Abigail heard the servants’ door crash open, and Filmore's enraged cries.
"He's found us!" Sarah lamented, burying her face in her hands.
"Be quiet!" Abigail whispered harshly. She peeked her head out around the crates and saw that Filmore was searching the nearby boxes piled by the door. He was calling for Sarah to show herself, stumbling this way and that in his drunken passion.
