“His pockets are full, Your Grace; he carries a strange white powder with him …”
“Who are you? Who sent you?” asked the Duke.
“I work at the colliery of the Earl of Aldrich, and Samuel Cooper told me to put this in the Duke’s drink!” the man whimpered.
“Leave him to me, Your Grace,” said Tobias and dragged him away crying.
The Duke turned to Abigail and still holding her hand led her to a corner of the room where he sat down with her.
“What are we to do now Abigail?” he asked.
“The Earl wants to kill you, and nothing I can do or say will change his mind,” she replied.
“Is that why you refused to marry me? You thought you could change his mind?”
“That is one of the reasons,” she admitted.
“What other reasons are there?”
“I did not believe I could make a good wife for you, Your Grace.”
“Why is that?”
“I have ambitions, Your Grace. I cannot agree to be your wife when there is such a vast difference between our stations in life. My birth is uncertain. I was brought up as a housemaid. You are a Duke. I would always feel unworthy.”
The Duke sighed, “What will make you feel worthy?”
“I must make my own fortune, and I must find the Marquis who is said to be the son of Jeremiah, whom I believed to be my father. I must determine if I really am the daughter of the Marquis.”
“Then I will help you, my dear. Whatever it takes, wherever you need to go, I will go with you till you realise what I know right now. You and I are fated to be together.”
“No.” She stood up.
“I am leaving now. Don’t stop me. You need to stay here and run your colliery. The livelihoods
of many depend upon you.”
The Duke caught her hand, “Wait, you shall do as you wish. However, it is too late now to do anything. Stay the night, and in the morning we will decide what to do.”
She acquiesced quietly, and the Duke led her to his chamber.
As the Duke closed the door behind him, he turned and immediately fell upon Abigail, kissing every inch of her that he could reach. Abigail kissed him back slowly at first and then pressed her mouth to his harder and harder. He pulled away, panting, and began to undress her.
“I missed you, my love,” he said as his fingers flew to untie the laces of her corset. She drew a deep breath as the tight garment released her from its hold and her breasts bounced freely. She sighed as she felt the Duke move close to her. She could feel the urgency of his stiff rod and knew he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
“I too missed you, Your Grace,” she whispered.
She brushed her lips softly against his ear as he inhaled the scent of her honey-gold hair. He touched his lips to the curve of her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist. Abigail relished the warm feeling of the Duke’s body pressed against hers, and she sighed, knowing that this could not last forever, but she was determined to make the most of it.
She took his large hands in her own small ones and guided them across her body, running them across her soft white stomach to the curve of her waist and upwards towards her large round breasts.
The Duke cupped them in his hands, squeezing them as he made her gasp. Her own hands fell away, and she let the Duke do as he pleased. He rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, and Abigail closed her eyes and moaned. The Duke then slipped off his pants, and Abigail turned just in time to see the large stiff member proudly protruding from his crisp dark loin hair, and she bit her lip in anticipation.
Trembling, Abigail fell to her knees before the Duke, and letting her womanly instinct guide her, she grasped his member in her hands and brought her lips close to its mushroomed head. The Duke was surprised – never had a woman taken him into her mouth, and he was curious to see if Abigail would really go through with it.
She parted her lips and closed them around his erection, sucking slightly. The Duke closed his eyes and threw back his head, crying out in pleasure as his hands gripped the top of Abigail’s head, pushing it down so that she would move her mouth lower on him.
Abigail took him further into her mouth, and he gasped and groaned with pleasure. Suddenly, he leaned forwards and said, “Stop – I’m going to climax.”
Abigail looked up at him with her big blue eyes and continued sucking on him, her breasts bouncing as she bobbed her head up and down, running her mouth down the length of his member. The Duke grabbed a fistful of her curls and cried out as he released his hot liquid into her mouth. She swallowed it, enjoying the bitter aftertaste in her mouth as she straightened up and stood before him.
He shook his head and gazed at her with renewed appreciation. “You’re everything I could dream of.”
Abigail smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes as she kissed him long and hard, letting her lips linger on his for a long time. He picked her up and carried her over to the bed, where he lay down next to her and started to kiss her face.
He placed gentle kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids, her chin, and her mouth, and then he began to kiss down the length of her body, stopping at her collarbones, her breasts, her navel. He stopped when he reached her legs, and then gently pried them apart, pushing his face between them and laying a soft and gentle kiss on her quivering wet womanhood.
Abigail closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, and the Duke pressed his tongue against her, making her cry out with pleasure. He tasted her on his tongue and then moved back up her body, the exhaustion of his first climax gone as his member swelled, ready for a second time.
There was something so complete in their union that Abigail thought she would cry. She had not expected to fall so deeply in love with the Duke, yet she knew that she could not stay here and be his wife, as tempting as that sounded. As the Duke pierced her for the final time before he released himself, Abigail closed her eyes and let her thoughts carry her to a place where she could be happy by the Duke’s side. It was a dream that she knew she would be unable to realise for a long time, if ever at all.
When the Duke laid his head on her chest and slept peacefully, his head rising and falling as she breathed in and out, Abigail stroked his dark hair and thought of how handsome he was and how she used to watch him from doorways. Never in all her life had she imagined that she would be sharing the Duke’s bed.
Nor did she imagine that she would be so deeply in love with him.
The Duke slept peacefully, his face glowing in the moonlight that filtered in through the gauzy curtains, and Abigail felt her heart breaking as she gazed at him. She wished that the moonlight would shine like this forever and that she could watch the Duke sleep like this for all eternity, for she knew that when the sun rose the next morning, she would have to do what she had promised herself.
He stirred in his sleep and called out,
“Abigail.”
Abigail let her fingers run gently through his hair and said, “I’m here, my darling. I’m right here.”
After a few sleep-riddled sounds, the Duke fell back into a deep slumber, and a single tear rolled down her cheek as Abigail watched him.
Perhaps in another lifetime, she would have been raised in a palace as a noblewoman, and her parents would have wedded her to the handsome Duke. Perhaps she would have been the miner’s daughter, and he would have been a soot-faced youth who worked in the mines with her father. Neither of this was true, however, and she knew she had duties that she needed to carry out while he had his duchy to look over and people to protect.
As the sun crept up into the sky, Abigail gently disentangled herself from the sleeping Duke’s limbs and dressed in the early daylight. She threw her travelling cloak around her shoulders and turned for a last look at her sleeping lover. She laid a kiss on his forehead before she silently exited the chambers.
When he awoke, he found this letter.
My Love,
I know you will never let me leave. It is not in your nature to abandon one whom
you love. Neither is it in mine to allow you to suffer for my sake. I have brought you nothing but misfortune and put your life in danger. I must leave now, and perhaps when he sees I am gone, the Earl will forget about you and pursue me. If so, you must let him do so. He will only tire himself out and fail at last, for I am no longer Abigail. I will travel under a different name and identity. If God wills and I am successful in my endeavour, I shall return. May the Lord bless and keep you.
With all my love,
Your Abigail.
“Go where you will my love; I will follow you, and I will bring you back as my wife. That is my vow to you,” said the Duke to himself as he rang the bell for his steward.
Book 2
Introduction
The days drudged on for the Duke whose hopes had been lowering. From Northumberland to Liverpool to London, his travels had done little to benefit him. And even now, aware as he was of her presence in London, he had no way of reaching out to her, and his morose began to get the better of him. He often sat in the parlour, looking out through the windows on the streets as if holding onto a vain, kindling hope that he might have the fortune of seeing her as she passed by.
Abigail wants nothing but the truth. The truth about her father’s death, her feelings for the Duke and a stepbrother she never knew she had. Seeking the truth, she wanders into the city of London with the Earl’s wicked men right at her heels. Duke Edmund, restless because of her absence and determined to bring his beloved home, crosses paths with the Earl. A conflict that could very easily turn into tragedy.
Chapter 1
The streetlights shone in her eyes and blinded her as Abigail stumbled on a doorstep. It was New Year’s Eve, and all around her people were talking and laughing as they took part in the revels. Abigail was tired and hungry. Despair threatened to overwhelm her, and not for the last time she wondered what had possessed her to come searching the streets of London for a complete stranger.
“I had no choice; I could not stay there and watch the Earl kill my love,” she thought.
She did not realise she had spoken aloud, and people stopped to stare at her as they passed. At last, she collapsed on the doorstep of a large mansion. The door opened, and a richly dressed woman rushed out almost stumbling over her.
“Is there no other place for you to ply your trade than this very doorstep?” she enquired in a malicious tone. Abigail looked up and saw the woman sneering at her. Behind her, she saw the face of a man. His expression was of sheer disbelief and something else that she could not understand. However, before she could ask anything, she fainted away. The woman tutted impatiently and turning back into the house summoned the butler.
“There is a beggar outside. Have her removed please before she obstructs the path of any of our guests,” she said and turned to leave. However, she was stopped by the man behind her.
“Wait a moment darling,” he murmured. “Look at the girl’s face. Do you see anything?”
The woman turned to look at Abigail. “I do not understand what you are referring to,” she replied a little annoyed. The butler appeared with another servant and proceeded to lift Abigail to her feet.
“Take her to the guest room,” the man said.
He was obeyed immediately. When Abigail opened her eyes, she found herself in a strange bed. She struggled to understand how she got there. In a delirious state midway between sleep and awareness, she replayed the events of the last few days since Christmas.
Once more, it seemed she was slipping out of the sleeping Duke’s arms in the cold, dreary sunlight of Christmas morning. He stirred but failed to wake as she softly kissed him and then slipped away from the Castle of Northumberland. Outside the door, a man waited for her.
“Make haste!” he said shortly. “I must come back within an hour before the Duke awakens and discovers his carriage gone.”
Abigail ascended into the carriage and was driven to the mansion of the Marquess Ernest Claremont. As she stepped out of the carriage, she looked up into the mask-like face of Tobias Harding.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “Were it not for you, I would never have succeeded in finding this place.”
“I do not wish to see you anywhere near the Duke again,” Tobias replied.
“Nor shall you,” she replied firmly.
Tobias turned around and drove away without another word. Abigail made her way to the gates of the Claremont mansion. She was greeted by the watchman who demanded to know her purpose.
“I only wish to meet the Marquess,” she replied.
“The Marquess left for London several days ago,” replied the watchman, his eyes full of suspicion.
“Can you tell me how to get there?” she asked.
The question swirled around in her delirious brain, and she could not recall what the watchman had answered.
“How do I get there? How do I get there?” she muttered aloud as she tossed and turned in the strange bed.
Again, it seemed she was riding in the back of a cart. The apple she ate was sweet and juicy. She could see the back of the stout farmer who had agreed to carry her to London, along with the produce he hoped to sell there. That was the last thing she remembered eating. She had slipped out of the farmer’s cart once they reached London. For the next two days, she wandered the streets searching for the Marquess Claremont. Whoever she asked laughed at her. A few people had mistaken her for a beggar and thrown coins at her as she sat by the roadside. That was how she had stumbled on the doorstep of these strangers who had taken her in.
Abigail opened her eyes and saw again the man who had refused to let the butler escort her off his doorstep. He seemed familiar, yet she could not say why. Then he spoke aloud.
“Who are you?” he asked. “Where did you come from?”
Abigail looked around dazed and muttered to herself, “Who am I? How can I answer such a question? I barely know myself. Am I Abigail Blunt the miner’s daughter, or am I the lost daughter of the Marquess Archibald Claremont?”
The man appeared to be listening intently. He quickly reached out and patted her hand.
“Forgive me, I ought not to question you thus when you are clearly not yourself, rest quietly, and we shall talk in the morning.”
Abigail fell asleep and knew no more. Then suddenly she heard her father’s voice saying,
“Child the sun hath risen. Why dost thou sleep so deeply?”
She started awake and looked around. No one was in the room and yet she suddenly knew without a doubt why the stranger who had taken her in seemed so familiar. He had her father’s eyes and his voice … or at least the voice she remembered from her childhood before Jeremiah’s cough had made his voice persistently hoarse.
“Is anyone there?” she called faintly at first and then louder.
The door burst open, and a stout old lady bustled in carrying a tray. “Hold thy blather!” she exclaimed in irritation. “’Tis bad enough I must wait on thee without thy squalling!”
She deposited the tray on a table beside the bed with an ill grace and looked suspiciously at Abigail. “Hast thou made use of the chamber pot? Well, thou canst empty it out there at the window thyself for I have no mind to wait hand and foot on such as thee!”
She turned to leave, but Abigail caught at her apron. “Wait! Where am I? Who does this house belong to?”
The woman stared at her aghast. “Whither hast thou come from that thou dost not know the Marquess Ernest Claremont?”
With that she flounced out of the room.
Chapter 2
The Earl of Aldrich, Horace Blakemore smashed his goblet on the floor.
“Where has she gone?” he screamed. “Thou addle-brained swine! Hast thou searched all the chambers? Don’t stand there staring at me! Find her! Search all the grounds and question the watchmen!”
The steward rushed out to follow his orders and left the Earl pacing up and down the dining hall, his breakfast untouched. He had last seen Abigail at sunset on Christmas Eve when she had agreed
to dine with him for once. Afterwards, she had excused herself stating that she was going to bed early because of a headache. He had not thought to ask for her since then until now when it was time for breakfast on Christmas Day.
“Curses on the entire lot of them! They have let her slip away in the night!” he exclaimed to himself. He sat down at last, hands trembling, and poured himself a drink.
“Where wouldst thou go Abigail Claremont?” he asked himself. “Perhaps the Duke has enticed her away again. I must question Samuel.”
At that moment, Samuel appeared looking extremely unhappy. “Thou numbskull! Art thou here? What didst thou achieve last night?” the Earl demanded.
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