Loving a Forsaken Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Aria Norton

  She took Sarah's hand again and pulled her up. "Come on, we have to find that coach." She started running down the alleyway as fast as she could. Filmore must have heard their footsteps echoing off the cobblestones, for a few seconds later, she could hear him crashing along behind them.

  "Sarah!" he yelled, slurring and spitting as he came. "Get back here woman!"

  Abigail turned the corner behind the great house. She ran as fast as she could towards the opposite corner, searching for another hiding place. Sarah was lagging behind, tiring from the exertion. Neither of them was used to running in such restricting stays and long skirts. Abigail had to step gingerly on the littered cobblestones. Finally, they came to the gardens behind the grand house.

  Abigail made a birds' nest of her hands, interlocking her fingers and motioning for Sarah to climb up so that she could help her over the brick wall. "Are you mad?" Sarah asked, her eyes growing wide. "I can't climb over that. I'll fall and break my neck on the other side."

  "Please, Mrs. Filmore. We don't have time. If your husband catches us we are both doomed. Now, do as I say!" Abigail made the bird's nest again, and Sarah did as she was told.

  However, as she placed her slippered foot into Abigail's hands, Filmore came crashing around the corner. "You! Stop there, Sarah! I mean it, stop!" He lost his balance and fell over on his side, his knife coming dangerously close to stabbing into his own side.

  Sarah let out a terrified scream, taking her foot down and starting to run again. Abigail followed, knowing that she was in no mental shape to deal with Filmore on her own should she need to defend herself. Filmore was up on his feet again in a jiffy, tearing after them at breakneck speed. He yelled for them to stop, becoming more enraged when they would not heed him.

  Abigail grasped Sarah's hand, and they continued down the alley. As they came to the opposite side of the block, she stuck her head out to try and get her bearings. She was not as familiar with the wealthier part of town. Still, she surmised that if they turned left and ran around the block to the front of the house where the party was being held, they might be able to find where the carriage had ended up.

  "This way," Abigail directed, hurrying on even though her feet were starting to hurt in her dainty shoes. She did not hear Filmore close behind them but was afraid to turn around and lose any ground they had gained.

  As they were about to round the next corner, she heard Filmore crashing behind them once more. "Oh, God! I'm going to be sick!" Sarah said, doubling over on the steps leading to up to one of the houses.

  "We don't have time for this, Sarah. You have to be strong now. Come on; he's right behind us."

  It was no use, though. Sarah bent over and vomited into the bushes near the steps. Abigail patted her back as she continued to empty the contents of her stomach, keeping an eye on the corner for Filmore. She could hear him shouting profanities and crashing into things as he came closer.

  Abigail handed Sarah her handkerchief and pulled her to a standing position again. "I'm sorry, but we have to keep going." She wrapped her arm around Sarah's middle and helped her hobble towards the next corner.

  "I'm sorry," Sarah sobbed as she wiped her mouth with the handkerchief.

  "Tush. There will be plenty of time for talk when we are safely in the carriage. Blast it all, where is that coachman! I'm going to wring his neck when we find him," she growled. They turned the next corner and could see the house where the party was going on a few hundred yards down the street.

  Abigail spotted Lord Brampton's coach parked in front of the house, his coachman pacing nervously on the sidewalk. She waved at him frantically, calling for him to help them.

  Before he could reach them, however, Filmore came barreling around the corner. "Sarah Filmore!" he bellowed. Sarah turned, her face ashen. Abigail was afraid she was going to faint.

  "Come on!" Abigail pulled her along. Abigail could see safety just a hundred yards away and pushed Sarah all the more. But as they neared their destination, she heard Sarah give a yelp of pain and start to fall. Abigail knew Sarah was going to take her with her. She braced for the fall, wincing as her hip hit the hard ground with a thud. She let out a pained cry through clenched teeth. Filmore was sure to catch them now. She turned over, propping herself up on her elbow. Sarah was holding her ankle, her eyes wide with fear.

  Filmore was almost upon them, but then Abigail saw Thomas appear behind him. Before Filmore could reach them, Thomas dove and grabbed him around the ankles. Filmore fell to the ground with a loud thud and started slashing the air with the knife. Abigail gasped, fearing for Thomas.

  "Run!" Thomas yelled as he wrestled with Filmore, trying to knock the knife out of his hands. "Abigail, get her out of here!"

  Abigail stood up and helped Sarah limp towards the carriage. "Open the door, man!" she yelled at the coachman. He seemed to be cemented to the spot, unable to move as he watched the terrifying scene. Her words snapped him into action; he opened the door, and then ran towards them to help them the last few yards. He helped Sarah into the coach and then gave Abigail a hand in as well.

  "Where were you? You were supposed to be by the servants’ entrance!" she hissed as she was seated.

  "I'm sorry, Miss. I lost my nerve..." he stammered as he closed the door.

  "Never mind. Get us out of here," Abigail instructed.

  "But Lord Brampton said..."

  "Don't argue with me. Just do as I say!" Abigail snapped. She then turned to Sarah and tried to calm her. She had dissolved into complete hysterics by that time.

  Abigail scooted nearer to Sarah, wrapping an arm around her heaving shoulders. "Now, now. It's alright. You're safe now."

  "My God! My God! He's going to kill Thomas..." Sarah said through her sobs. Abigail's heart beat wildly, from running and from fear for Thomas. The last she had seen, Thomas was wrestling with a madman with a knife. It would be a wonder if one or both of them did not walk away from the fight with a knife wound.

  However, that was not what Sarah needed to hear. "Thomas is a strong man, and able to take care of himself. Don't worry, he's going to be just fine," she soothed.

  "No, you don't know Ezra the way I know him. He'll kill Thomas and then he'll come after us and kill both us, too!" she wailed, rocking back and forth. "If anything happens to him I'll never forgive myself. I might as well be dead!"

  "Please try to calm yourself, Mrs. Filmore."

  "Don't call me that!" Sarah snapped, turning on Abigail with such vehemence that she almost felt the force of her words physically. "I hate him."

  Abigail blinked slowly, not sure what to say. "I'm sorry. I know all of this must be quite a shock for you." Abigail berated herself for not pushing Thomas harder to tell Sarah. If she had known what to expect, she might have at least worn some more sensible shoes. Of course, things had not gone as planned from the beginning.

  "Filmore suspected something was awry. He's been having me watched night and day. He's sent his mistresses over to the house to watch me during the day. And he wouldn't let me out of his sight at night," Sarah shuddered. "Where are you taking me?"

  "We'll go back to Lord Brampton's house and wait for him to meet us there."

  "No! We can't go there. That is the first place Filmore will look." Sarah knocked on the roof of the carriage and poked her head out to speak with the coachman. "Take us to my house please. Number 13 Brunswick Square."

  Abigail stuck her head out of the other window and yelled at the coachman. "No. That's the second place he'll look. Take us to my home please." The coachman didn't know who to listen to at first, until Abigail yelled at him again to do as she said.

  "We'll go to my house first and get some food. I know a place we can go that Filmore would never know to look for you."

  "Where?" Sarah asked, sniffing back her tears. She had finally started to calm down a bit.

  "We'll go to my mother's cottage. It's a long drive to the coast, but you'll be safe there. I can write Thomas a note when we stop at my house and let h
im know where we have gone."

  Sarah nodded, settling back in the seat. She closed her eyes and winced as she tried to move her ankle. She leaned down, meaning to take off her slipper.

  "Don't," Abigail said, staying her hand. "You won't be able to get it back on if the swelling is too bad."

  Sarah sighed and sat back. "Thank you for helping me. I don't know what he would have done to me if I'd continued under his roof."

  Abigail nodded silently, "It was Lord Brampton's plan. He said he couldn't leave you there with Filmore. It's him you should thank."

  "And when I see him again, I certainly will," Sarah said quietly. Abigail tried not to let the jealousy creep in on her again. But even as they settled into an uncomfortable silence, Abigail knew that she had still not got over Thomas.

  Chapter 31

  Thomas crashed through the servant'’ entrance and out into the dark alleyway. He could see Filmore had made it a good hundred yards ahead of him. However, he could not see Abigail or Sarah. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, they've escaped in the carriage." He put his hands over his head, dragging in a breath.

  It had taken some doing to detangle himself from Filmore's cronies. One of them lay unconscious in the aftermath, but he had finally succeeded in getting away after Filmore. Thomas hid behind some crates in the alleyway as he heard Filmore's friends coming.

  Suddenly, he heard a scream which sounded like Sarah, and his heart sank with fear. He then heard Filmore yelling and crates crashing to the cobblestones. He swore under his breath, thinking quickly as to what to do about Filmore's men who were standing just on the other side of the stacked crates. He pushed the boxes over, and the whole heap went crashing over their heads with one swift motion. Thomas made a break for it, running at full speed after Filmore. Why were the ladies not in the carriage already? Had his coachman gone to the wrong spot?

  He could catch up to Filmore just as he was rounding the corner on the opposite side of the block. He was shouting obscenities at the ladies, which made Thomas's blood boil all the more. What Sarah had seen in him, he would never understand. Although, Filmore had presented her with a much different facade when he had secretly been courting her. Of that, he was certain.

  By the time Thomas rounded the corner, Filmore was already halfway down the block. This time, he caught a glimpse of Sarah at the other corner, Abigail tugging her behind her. Sarah looked as if she were a frightened mouse being hunted by a fox. Filmore ran into a gentleman and his wife, who were climbing down from their carriage. He cursed the man and shoved him aside, making him topple into a lamppost. Thomas caught up to the couple and helped the man stand.

  "I'm sorry I don't have time to explain. I'm trying to catch that madman. I do apologise if he hurt you, sir."

  "Not at all. Do catch him quickly, would you? I may want to call him out in the morning for insulting my wife!" he said, holding the back of his head where it had hit against the lamp post.

  "He may not survive that long," Thomas said under his breath, continuing in the mad chase around the block.

  This was not how he had envisioned this night going. Their plan had been so simple. He was going to give his coachman a firm talking to when he saw him. He had better have a good explanation for not being where he had instructed him to be. If anything happened to Sarah or Abigail... he would wring his neck!

  Thomas heard yelling ahead of him as he rounded the next corner. Filmore was still screaming expletives at the ladies, but Thomas was closing the distance. All of a sudden, he heard footsteps barreling towards him. Thomas looked back to see two of Filmore's cohorts running after him.

  "Wonderful," he thought. All he needed was two more men to fight. Filmore rounded the corner and came out on the street. He spotted his carriage parked right in front of the house and swore under his breath. He was going to be fired at the earliest opportunity.

  Filmore was closing the distance between him and Sarah fast. A few yards away from the carriage, Sarah suddenly fell, pulling Abigail to ground with her. They both let out a scream as they went down, and Thomas put forth his last ounce of strength to reach Filmore before he could get to Sarah and Abigail.

  He dove, grabbing for Filmore's ankles. Filmore let out a shriek as he went down. He started slashing the air with his knife, coming dangerously close to Thomas’s head again. He grabbed Filmore's wrist and tried to knock the blade free. After a few attempts, the knife finally gave way and clattered to the sidewalk a few feet away. “Run! Abigail, get her out of here!” he yelled as he continued to wrestle with Filmore.

  The fight was long from over, though, for Filmore's cohorts came upon the scene and started beating Thomas. Filmore was able to stand and catch his breath while his friends pummeled Thomas. Thomas instinctively curled into a ball and covered his head. Their repeated kicks to his side knocked the wind out of him, and he teetered on the edge of consciousness.

  Finally, after what seemed like hours, he heard Filmore shout for them to stop. One of his friends gave him one last kick and moved away. Thomas was afraid to move. "That's enough, boys. Let's go get my bride. I have a few things to teach her."

  Thomas tried to look around, but when he moved his head, his vision swam. He lay for a moment, doing his best to stay conscious. When he finally raised his head a bit, he saw that his carriage was gone. "Thank God," he said as his world went black. At least Abigail and Sarah had got away.

  ***

  Abigail and Sarah arrived at her mother's cottage as the sun was rising. It had been a long journey. Sarah had been sick nearly the whole time, slowing their progress with her near-constant need to stop the coach and empty her stomach on the side of the road. She had slept fitfully for the last few hours of the trip, for which Abigail was grateful. At least Sarah was safe.

  Abigail had not been able to sleep a wink, however, worrying over Thomas. Had he been able to disarm Filmore and subdue him before something awful had happened? She had written a hasty note before they had gone. Abigail could hardly have ordered Thomas' coachman to drive them all the way to her mother's cottage. And so, she had paid for her and Sarah's fares to board the public coach.

  They boarded the last coach out of London that evening, squeezing in with a small family of four from Brighton. They had disembarked at an inn halfway to Brighton, leaving Sarah and Abigail to ride the rest of the way alone. Abigail was at once thankful and unappreciative of the silence.

  Her thoughts tormented her, wondering if Thomas was safe or not. What could they have done differently? Their carefully laid plans had been destroyed in the face of Filmore's drunken rage. And Thomas' useless coachman had obliterated any chance they had for a seamless getaway.

  Abigail touched Sarah's shoulder as they slowed and came to a stop in front of the cottage gates. "We're here, Sarah. Wake up," she said softly. Sarah opened her eyes slowly, dark circles under her eyes. She stretched slowly and then hurried out of the carriage to vomit again. Abigail had never seen someone act this way before.

  Was she really so afraid of Filmore that it was making her ill? Abigail's heart softened towards the girl. For that was what she was. Sarah was two years younger than her, and obviously not experienced in the ways of the world. Or at least, she hadn't been, until she had married Filmore.

  Abigail picked up the bags that the driver threw down for them. Sarah had nothing, of course, without being prepared as Abigail had been. She had packed extra clothes for Sarah, even though the hems would drag on the ground. Abigail was at least four inches taller than Sarah. It would have to do until Thomas could come out and meet them.

  Abigail cleared her throat nervously as they walked up to the front door. The carriage pulled away, leaving them at the mercy of her mother and aunt. She knocked on the door, and to her surprise, her mother stood behind the maid that answered.

  "Hello, Mother," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

  "My word! Abigail. What on earth are you doing here?" her mother asked. Abigail winced at the cold greeting.

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