* * *
“Was that really necessary?” Aunt Martha closed the door gently behind her and Percival resigned himself to an unscheduled lecture on etiquette and propriety and how not to treat one's theoretical future bride.
“I do not know what you mean, Aunt.” He tried to head her off but he could see by the determination in her eyes that he would not be successful.
“Despite your...current circumstances, the Hoskins have been dear friends for a long time to both me and your dearly departed parents. You have treated their daughter abysmally and should be ashamed.”
Percival grimaced. “I shall be sure to apologize when next I see her.” He stood up from his seat, “but at the moment I need to go and find out how our guest is settling in. Excuse me, Aunt.” He made her a leg before striding out of the room without a backward glance.
He paused at the bottom of the stairs, questions of propriety ringing in his head. He stopped a passing serving maid instead of taking the stairs two at a time.
“Would you be so kind as to convey to Miss Thorne that her presence is requested in the dining room?” He knew that supper was served, delayed due to the carfuffle with Lady Rosaline.
“Yes, sir,” she curtsied clumsily before hurrying up the stairs.
* * *
Abigail and Tommy scrambled back into the room as soon as they heard Percival asking someone to look for Abigail.
“Come, let's wash our faces. It is time to eat.” Abigail felt relief that her hunger was about to be satisfied. Living in this house might prove more of a challenge than she had anticipated. Not only because of the hostility of some of its residents but also being unable to move around freely, perhaps make herself a meal, or touch anything without feeling ill at ease. She suddenly very much wanted to go home to her mother. Lady Rosaline shouting in the corridor had been particularly unsettling. These people would never accept her.
She changed into a clean gown, just then realizing that Tommy had only the clothes he stood up in.
“Tomorrow I shall take you to the shop and measure you for a tunic and some long pants. Would you like that?”
Tommy merely nodded disinterestedly. “Are we going to eat food now?”
Abigail smiled, taking his hand. “Yes, Tommy, let’s go and eat.”
Just in time, there was a knock on the door and the maid poked her head in to tell them that they were expected in the dining room for supper.
“Lead the way,” Abigail said with a smile.
* * *
The Cartridges’ supper party was well underway by the time Rosaline arrived on her father's arm. They were quite thrilled to see her and Rosaline knew it was because she was a major player in the current on-dits. By now it must have got around that Percival had broken their engagement, and that his bird of paradise was residing at Northcott House.
It was nothing less than humiliating, but she held her head high and kept a smile on her face. Her father squeezed her hand, staying close, and for that, she was more grateful than she could put into words.
Not long after the arrival, she spotted Lady Stanley, accompanied by her son, Lord Stanley. As soon as she caught sight of Rosaline and her father, she made a beeline for them.
“My dear Lady Rosaline, how are you doing?” She asked as if they had not spent the early evening, commiserating.
“I am well, how are you?” Lady Rosaline smiled at them both. She was amused to note Lord Stanley's blush. Surely he was too old to be discomposed by a lady. His mother turned to him with a tight smile. “Henry, my dear, would you fill Lady Rosaline’s dance card if it is not already full?”
“Of course,” Lord Stanley made a leg before extending his arm for Rosaline to take. She let him lead her away, knowing that for some reason, Lady Stanley wanted to speak to her father alone.
As Lord Stanley propelled her onto the dance floor, she turned to him with a smile.
“What do you suppose they are talking about?”
Henry returned her smile and added a blush to it. “I suppose my mother wants to give your father a chance to ask her about the goings-on at home. I expect it is of some interest to him.”
He surprised a laugh out of her. “I suppose it is.”
* * *
“What are we to do about this?” Martha asked through gritted teeth as they made their way to a secluded alcove where they would not be overheard.
“You know what we have to do. We have one last card left to play.”
Martha frowned. “Are you sure?”
Lord Huntington sighed, “We truly do not have a choice. It is the only way to ensure that he will turn his back on her.”
Martha nodded, “You are right.”
“We must tread carefully in how we do it so that he will turn back to us and not retreat further.”
Martha continued to nod. “I will think on it.”
* * *
Percival got to his feet and made a leg when Abigail and Tommy stepped into the room. He gestured silently to the chair opposite him, before hurrying around to pull the chair out for Abigail. She smiled uncomfortably, not used to this sort of chivalry.
But I can learn to get used to it quite fast.
She settled in her seat, looking around to see what there was to eat. As soon as Percival took a seat, three servants came forward, carrying bowls of soup, wafting with a delicious aroma of beef.
Abigail swallowed, feeling her stomach rumble with hunger and hoped that it was not loud enough for Percival to hear. She aimed a tight smile in his direction before tucking into her soup and hoping that they would at least supply some bread because soup alone would not be sufficient to slake her hunger. Her bowl was empty in no time, but before she could figure out how to ask for more, the servants were taking away the bowls and replacing them with plates piled with beef steak and peacock pies.
Abigail savored the food happily, making sure to eat every last bite. She looked up, her cheeks coloring as she realized that Percival was watching her with a slight smile on his face.
“Have I food on my face?” She touched her cheeks self-consciously.
Percival shook his head. “You seem to be enjoying the food very much. I feel quite envious of that peacock pie.”
The color in Abigail's cheeks increased and she glanced at Tommy before narrowing her eyes at Percival. “How nice of you to say.” She gritted through her teeth, before turning her attention back to her meal. Her glance at Tommy seemed to remind Percival of his presence, and he turned to the boy with a smile. “Are you enjoying yourself, young man?”
Tommy nodded as was his wont, with vigor, his hair flying about from side to side. “Yes, sir, I am. So much food I don't get hungry.”
Percival’s smile became pained. “Glad to hear it.” His eyes lifted, meeting Abigail’s in a glance full of meaning. Just what the meaning was, Abigail was not sure. She hoped that he, like herself, was thinking of making a place for Tommy in their lives. If he should balk at doing so, she could always ask her mother to take him in, but she hoped that would not be necessary.
They completed the rest of the meal in relative silence, interspersed with pleasantries, mindful of the ears of both Tommy and the servants.
As they finished their meal and got up to leave, Percival laid a hand on her arm, detaining her.
“May I have a word?” he said, sotto voce.
She turned to Tommy with a smile. “Go on up to our bedchamber, Tommy. I will be right there.”
Tommy nodded and smiled, waved at Percival before taking off at a run. Abigail opened her mouth to tell him to walk and not run but then shrugged and closed it again. When she turned back to Percival, he was smiling at her.
“What?”
“You’ll make a good parent.” His eyes were full of affection and Abigail had to look away, grimacing slightly.
“What did you want to talk about?” She did not meet his eyes as she asked, starting slightly as he grasped her elbow.
“Come, let us retire to my study
where we can speak privately,” he murmured, his eyes on the servants who were clearing the table.
Abigail nodded her assent, and let him lead her gently down the hall to his study. She looked around the room, appreciating the walnut fittings, the brown leather seats, and the rows of books lining one wall. It was clearly a well-used and cherished space. She crossed over to the sofa and lowered herself onto it, hands clasped in her lap. He followed after her, leaning on the mahogany table in front of her, his eyes seeking hers.
“It is good to be alone with you again.”
That statement made her blush and she lowered her head shyly.
“It is good to be with you again, as well.” She took a deep breath before looking up at him with liquid eyes which hid nothing of what she was feeling. Her heart was pounding and her fingers trembled the slightest bit.
Will he kiss me now? Or do more?
She did not know if she wanted him to or not. He had mentioned eloping and as she had managed to hold on to her virginity until now, she would have preferred to keep it until her wedding night.
On the other hand, I would not object to a kiss.
She could not help the smirk that widened her smile a little as she watched him watch her, as if she were a prime cut of beef and he was a starving man, just released from prison. She could well appreciate the accuracy of that imagery considering she herself had just been released from that hell hole. She got to her feet, wanting to feed him just a bit.
It’s wrong to starve people when you have the means to satisfy them.
The thought flitted through her mind as she got on her tip toes, eyes on his lips. His tongue darted out of his mouth and he wet his lips, making them look shiny and inviting. Her eyes were glued to them, unable to look away, the shape of his lips getting more distorted the closer she got until all she saw was a blur. She touched her own lips to his, tongue peeking out to taste his mouth. She was tentative, unsure, until he grabbed her face in his big hands and pulled her in closer. She completely relaxed her body, letting him do with her mouth what he would.
The warmth and wetness, the nearness of his flesh to hers was a little much for her. She reached out her hands, clutching at his smooth silk waistcoat, holding on for dear life. He plundered her mouth, running his tongue over her teeth and then thrusting it deep in her mouth and suckling. She shivered in reaction, knees going weak. The only thing holding her up was her hands on his waistcoat.
She felt the strength of his hands, trailing down her neck to her shoulders, and then smoothing down her back to hold her close. Her own hands slowly loosened on his chest, rising to his shoulders and holding on. She could not stop the hungry sound that escaped from her throat and it seemed to spur him on to greater liberties. His hands moved lower, landing on her bottom, and then he squeezed, hard.
She jerked backward in shock, hand reaching up quick as thought and slapped his face.
Chapter 28
Elopement
“I’m sorry—”
“Forgive me—”
They both spoke at the same time, faces red with embarrassment and arousal. Percival took a step back.
“I overstepped my bounds. You were quite right to stop me.”
“I just...don’t know what came over me.”
Percival ventured a smile. “Well, whatever it was, it came just in time. You should go up to bed and get some rest.”
Abigail nodded. “I will do so,” she turned away, hesitating. Not wanting to leave things up in the air, she turned her head toward him again, looking him in the eye.
“I...did enjoy the kiss.”
Percival nodded. “I enjoyed kissing you.”
They both let out a quiet laugh.
“Goodnight, Percival.” Abigail turned her head and headed for the door.
“Sweet dreams, Abigail.”
* * *
Percival had vacillated between obtaining a special license or going to Gretna Green. It was Lady Rosaline who made up his mind for him. If she would kick up such a fuss at Abigail staying at Northcott House, there was no way she would not turn up to object at the wedding.
It was best to be as far away from London as possible when they tied the knot. He had decided that they would leave in the wee hours of the morning and be on their way before anyone was any the wiser.
No doubt Mrs. Thorne would have liked to be at her daughter's wedding but they could always hold a reception at a later date once all this trouble was behind them.
The trip from London to Gretna was not going to be a pleasant one, even in a well-sprung coach that would absorb most of the ruts and swaying. It was some three hundred miles or so from London to Gretna Green.
Should anyone follow them, they could be forced to detour to side roads to stay out of sight.
Percival did not travel much but he knew that to do it fast, the horses would need to be changed every thirty miles, meaning at least ten stops along the way. This increased their chance of being seen and knowledge of their journey being conveyed to Lord Huntington.
It was a risk they’d have to take.
In addition, he would need to hire fresh horses, making sure to give tips to encourage fast changes, buy food and drink for the journey, and find them room and board for the wedding in Gretna.
It was a lot to plan in the short time he had.
However intricate the plans he made, the trip was going to be tedious.
Of course they might have to contend with delays if a horse went lame, or a wheel fell off, muddy roads, snow, or other bad weather conditions which slow down the pace.
Percival was prepared for all of it. He would not let anything get in his way, not when Abigail’s life depended upon it.
* * *
Abigail was a light sleeper and so the quiet knock on her door had her sitting up in bed immediately.
“May I come in?”
Percival’s head was floating several feet above the floor, looking disembodied in the flickering light of the candle in his hand and the fire in the grate.
“What is it that you want, Percival?”
“It’s time to go.” He stepped into the room, speaking quietly, clearly trying not to wake Tommy.
“Go?”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with childish delight. “Time to elope.”
Abigail’s heart jumped and she lifted a hand and placed it flat on her bosom as if that might slow it down.
“Now?”
“Yes, now. Gather your things and meet me in the foyer.”
Abigail scrabbled out of bed, feeling a little dizzy with fear and excitement. Percival and his floating head had disappeared, taking the candle with him. The only illumination left in the room was the fire burning merrily in the fireplace. It was enough to see by, enough to gather her clothes and return them to her leather valise. Her hands shook only a little.
She reached down and kissed Tommy on the forehead before creeping out of the room and down the stairs.
She joined Percival in the foyer. “Will Tommy be all right here?”
Percival frowned. “I do not take your meaning.”
Abigail took a tired breath, “I mean, will they feed him, avail him water to wash, and look out for him?”
Percival hesitated, his eyes darting in the direction of his aunt’s bedchambers and then to the backstairs that led to the kitchens. He seemed to have his doubts about how well Tommy would be treated.
Abigail put down her valise. “I cannot leave him here, unprotected.”
Percival nodded as if he understood her predicament. He walked to the little table next to the door that led down to the kitchens and rang the bell that sat upon it. Not long after, the butler came hurrying up the stairs, the buttons on his coat askew.
Abigail was taken aback to see him come from that direction. Do they sleep in the kitchens?
“Yes, Your Grace?” the butler said.
Percival pointed at her. “Her Grace has a young male companion with her.”
&nb
sp; The butler nodded his acknowledgement. Abigail knew that everyone below stairs had already met Tommy. He had told her all about the fuss they made over him when he went to find something to eat.
“You will take care of him while we are away.” Percival gave the butler a hard look, like he was entrusting something precious to him.
“Of course, Your Grace,” the butler said and Abigail relaxed. Tommy would be all right, she hoped. In any case, it was too late to do anything about it now.
Secret Confessions 0f The Enticing Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 24