Secret Confessions 0f The Enticing Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency)

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Secret Confessions 0f The Enticing Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 28

by Olivia Bennet


  * * *

  Tommy was the one who shook her awake, his face frantic and scared.

  “What’s the matter?” she murmured sleepily, trying to shake some awareness into her body.

  “Th-they’re…” Tommy trailed away and that was when Abigail heard the noise. Banging and screaming, shouting…coming from the bottom of the stairs. She almost did not recognize Mr. Forbes’ voice for she had never heard him sound so distressed.

  Something crashed to the ground with a loud bang and she jumped, getting to her feet, hands reaching for her robe before she was even properly thinking. Tommy grabbed for her hand and she clung to him as much as he was clinging to her, afraid of what she would find on the other side of the door.

  As soon as she stepped on the landing, one of the dozen men milling in the hallway looked up. “There she is!” he cried and two other men began climbing the stairs actively impeded by Nell, who was clinging stubbornly to the ankles of the one in front.

  Abigail gasped, eyes darting everywhere, looking for an explanation.

  “His Grace will not be pleased when he comes home.” Forbes shouted and the suited man he was speaking to simply scoffed.

  “I care nuffink for ‘is Grace or what ‘e wants.” He declared as the men reached the landing and grabbed her.

  “Miss Abigail Thorne, by order of the crown, you are under arrest for robbery.”

  Abigail stared at him in befuddlement. “Actually, it’s Her Grace to you,” she said not even aware of the words coming out of her mouth. The man downstairs laughed.

  “Grab hold of her. Make sure she doesn’t escape.”

  “She is out on bond!” Mr. Forbes cried.

  “Well, consider that bond revoked. It’s Newgate for the Duchess.” He laughed so long and loud that his men had shackled Abigail and led her to the carriage before he was done.

  Chapter 32

  Homecoming

  Abigail sat in the cell at Newgate, grateful that they had put her in one of the rooms by herself. At least she did not have to sleep in filth. She fought the nausea that assailed her now and then, wondering if she was sickening for something or it was the smells from the sewer making her feel like casting up her accounts.

  She wondered if anyone knew she had been arrested yet. One of the guards had told her she would be brought before the judge the very next day. Whatever delays had been happening were now at an end and her trial would be expedited to make up for lost time.

  She sensed the hand of the Earl in all this but there was nothing she could do about it from here.

  Percival, God, I need you to come home!

  She snuffled, wondering if he would even deign to help her after the terrible news he had learned. She wouldn’t blame him if he left her to rot.

  * * *

  Percival walked into Northcott house and stopped short as he caught sight of a man in the butler’s livery. “Who are you?”

  “I am Mr. Keyes, the butler.”

  “What happened to Forbes?”

  Mr. Keyes looked uncertain for a moment. “I believe he was let go. May I have your calling card to give to Lady Stanley?”

  Percival frowned. “My calling card? Where is my wife?”

  “Your...wife, sir?

  “Yes! My wife. My wife. Where is she?”

  The frown on Mr. Keyes’ forehead merely deepened. He looked completely mystified.

  “Perhaps if you told me your name, sir?”

  “It’s Your Grace to you, and if you do not know my name then why are you serving in my house?”

  Mr. Keyes blanched, paling considerably before backing away. “I...you...they said that...” he bumped into a plinth, almost upending a statue of the Virgin from its sconce.

  “I…”

  “Fetch me someone that can answer my questions. Where is my aunt?”

  “I...she...is entertaining in the green room.” The butler continued to back away in horror. “I shall just inform her of your presence, shall I?”

  He turned and hurried away while Percival dropped his bag, taking the stairs two at a time, and burst into his chambers like a man possessed.

  “Abigail!” he looked around for any sign of her possessions before hurrying across the hall to the chambers she had shared with Tommy. It, too, was devoid of any sign of her.

  “Where is my wife?” he bellowed.

  * * *

  Claudette burst into the house calling for Abigail’s mother. “They took her!” She cried, “They took Abigail!” The house was silent, and nobody responded to her cries.

  “Madam Joan probably went to work,” Tommy said.

  “Indeed. I plum forgot.” Her hands were shaking so hard and her knees were so weak, she was quite surprised to still be on her feet. She flopped down on the settee, breathing hard.

  “And you, young sir? How are you faring without your foster mother?” She frowned at Tommy, concerned at all the upheaval he had undergone in his young life. She was no stranger to upheaval herself, so she knew well the trauma it could cause.

  She had gone to get him as soon as she got the message about Abigail’s arrest from her lady’s maid, Nell. Tommy shrugged, looking resigned before heading to the kitchen to look for something to eat. Abigail had to smile indulgently at his perpetual hunger.

  Such a bottomless pit. She thought with affection.

  A knock at the door startled her. “Come in!” she called before she could think further about it. The door opened slowly, and slow heavy steps trudged towards her.

  She tensed, holding her breath.

  Waiting to see who would come in. When he stepped in the room she froze with surprise.

  “Percival.”

  “Claudette.”

  Suddenly a rage like she had never felt before built up within her and she got to her feet, rushing him. She pushed him against the wall, one hand on his throat, choking the life out of him.

  “Where have you been, you bastard? Do you know what’s been going on here? Do you know what’s happened to your wife while you went off to sulk?” She was breathing hard as she let him go, stepping away from him, her teeth still gritted.

  He did not try to defend himself or stop her. He simply stood there and took it.

  “I was given some disturbing news and I needed some time to come to terms with it.”

  “Well, I hope you have come to terms with that because there is more disturbing news. Abigail has been arrested. She’s being arraigned in court tomorrow.”

  Percival shook his head. “This is the Earl’s doing for sure. Where are Mr. Sinclair and Mrs. Thorne?”

  Claudette shrugged. “I don’t know. I just arrived myself, looking for them.”

  “Right, well, I shall make my way to Newgate. Why don’t you go to the shop and find out if Mrs. Thorne is there?

  Claudette nodded, swallowing hard as she got up to leave. She paused at the door, looking back at him. “We’ll save her, won’t we?”

  Percival gave her back a grim nod. “I certainly hope so.”

  * * *

  Percival stepped into his house in search of all the gold he kept in his safe. His first task was to make sure Abigail was as comfortable as possible and that would mean greasing palms. He caught sight of Henry, walking down the hall and called after his cousin, wanting to know where his aunt was.

  “Percival!” Henry said turning to face him. “You’re back.”

  “I have been back for a while.”

  His mouth quirked. “So I heard. I take it you finally found your wife?”

  “I did. I am surprised that you don’t know that they took her away to prison.”

  Henry shook his head. “I heard something of the same and would have written to apprise you, but you did not leave a forwarding address. When I got back from my sojourn to Brighton, I found that the Duchess had already been arrested.”

  Percival sighed. “Henry, I am afraid your mother can no longer stay here. She has long been complicit with the Earl against my Duchess. Forbes tell
s me she fired him after he protested Abigail’s arrest.”

  Henry nodded, his eyes unusually grave. “I understand.”

  “What? No arguments? No pleas for a second chance?” Percival’s eyes sharpened as he got a good look at Henry’s eyes.

  “Henry…what’s the matter?”

  Henry’s shoulders dropped in defeat. “Let’s go into your study. We need to talk.”

  Percival followed his cousin with a frown.

  He shut the door of his study behind him and turned to face Henry. The grave expression on his cousin’s face was discomposing.

  “Henry? What’s the matter?”

  “I…” Henry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I inadvertently walked in on my…mother and…”

  Henry’s eyes filled with tears.

  Percival hurried to the decanter tray to fill up a glass with brandy. He handed it to Henry. “Drink.”

  Henry swallowed the whole thing down.

  “Now tell me.” Percival said, his heart pounding with anxiety.

  “I stumbled upon my mother…in her bedchamber…and she was not alone.”

  Percival frowned, going over the words, and then his brow cleared. “Oh.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well…she is a widow, Henry. If she has found—”

  “It was Benedict Hoskins. The man she was with.”

  Percival went cold. “I beg pardon.”

  “My mother, was in flagrante with Lady Rosaline’s father.” Henry’s voice trembled. “But that is not the worst part.”

  Percival snorted. “What could possibly be worse?”

  “They seemed to be discussing…” Henry’s mouth opened and closed as if the words would not come out.

  “What, Henry? What were they talking about?”

  Percival had an awful feeling he knew what was coming.

  “I think…they were talking about possibly making sure the Duchess had some kind of fatal accident. From the way they were speaking, I have a feeling it was not the first time. They mentioned foxes. I don’t know why.”

  Percival had to sit down before he fell down.

  * * *

  They arrived early to the courtroom, Mr. Sinclair and Mrs. Thorne rode with Percival. The carriage was deathly silent, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Nobody wanted to talk about what would happen if Abigail was found guilty. All indicators pointed to this judge having been…persuaded to do just that. There was no jury. With the speed at which the trial was convened, there was no time to assemble one.

  They had already been notified by their solicitors that the death penalty was to be considered.

  The carriage came to a stop and all three alighted in front of the residence of the magistrate. A carriage was already parked nearby, bearing the crest of Newgate Prison. That meant that Abigail was already here.

  Percival took a deep breath, and began to walk towards the door, Abigail’s parents following closely behind.

  The door was opened by a man dressed like a butler and they were directed towards a small hall, where Abigail already sat, flanked by two Newgate guards. Percival’s heart broke to see her looking so small and scared.

  He took a step towards her, but one of her guards shook his head at him, a grim look on his face. He stopped, but his eyes sought out Abigail’s. Her hair covered her face in an unruly mane and she had not looked up once. Percival willed her to look up, to see him, to know that he was here for her. She didn’t move.

  The magistrate entered the room and everyone got to their feet. Once he had taken his seat, Percival sought a chair behind Abigail, next to her parents, and sat down as well.

  The magistrate hit his gavel, exhorting the room to silence. His court clerk read out the charges, loud and clearly and then he sat down, giving way to the prosecutor.

  The door opened behind him and Percival turned around to see Lord Huntington and his family file into the courtroom, closely followed by his aunt. He gasped, not having expected them to show up, and then turned to face the front. His teeth ground together in frustration as he thought about everything Lord Huntington had done to his family.

  And here he is, cool as you please, trying to destroy us once again.

  It was all Percival could do not to lunge at him and strangle him until he was dead. He had never felt so deeply and utterly betrayed, so violated and attacked.

  What did I ever do to you?

  The proceedings continued, with the prosecutor calling as witnesses to the crime, all the principal members of the Hoskins family staff as well as Lady Rosaline herself, to testify as to the theft of the ruby. Further, he called on various members of the ton who were present on the day Lady Rosaline accused Abigail of theft in her shop.

  They all confirmed that Abigail was a thief and a danger to the ton. Lady Ahern even went so far as to declare that Abigail had ingratiated herself by lying and that is how she managed to bamboozle the Duke into running off with her to Gretna Green.

  “The marriage itself is evidence that she is a charlatan of the highest order.”

  Percival was on his feet before he had time to think and resisted when Philip tried to pull him back down.

  “I will thank you to keep your bird-witted insults to yourself,” he growled.

  Lady Ahern gasped, hand on her chest in genteel shock. She looked to the magistrate to rescue her from this unwarranted attack.

  “The Duke will kindly refrain from speaking out of turn in my courtroom.”

  Percival growled again for good measure before re-taking his seat.

  “You see, Your Honor? She has probably bewitched him with herbs and spells. Who is to say what the scapegrace is willing to do to get her way?”

  Percival had never thought to hit a woman before in his life but Lady Ahern was really testing his resolve. Mrs. Thorne reached over and put her gloved hand over his, a quelling look in her eye.

  The door of the chambers opened again and everyone turned to see Claudette enter, looking flustered, her color high indicating she had been running.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled before taking a seat behind Mrs. Thorne.

  The magistrate thanked Lady Ahern for her testimony and she left the witness chair. He then turned to face the room.

  “Would the accused like to offer a defense?”

  Abigail got to her feet.

  * * *

  The sound of Percival’s voice speaking up in her defense had quite startled Abigail. She had not known he was there. She had wished it with all her heart but hadn’t dared raise her head to check, lest she be disappointed.

  There was not a snowball’s chance in hell of escaping the hangman’s noose unless they could equal Lord Huntington’s influence. Even with the Duke in court and on her side, it was evident that sentiment was against her. Indeed, the Duke’s presence on her side seemed to harden whatever animosity the participants felt toward her.

  A wave of nausea overtook her.

  I don’t want to die!

  When the magistrate asked if she had something to say, she got to her feet on shaking legs. What could she say that would change his mind?

  “Y-your honor, I have nothing to say other than I am innocent of all these charges. I went to Lady Rosaline’s house at her invitation. She wanted me to reject His Grace’s suit in her favor. I said no and made to leave. She ordered the Bow Street Runner to search me, and he put his hand in my garment and emerged with the ruby. But that was her doing. She must have put it there when I was distracted!”

  “But this was the second incident of theft, was it not?”

  “Your Ηonor, I did not take the first piece of jewelry, either, and no trace of it was found in my shop. It was simply a bit of chicanery to cast me in a bad light in front of the Duke.”

  She took a deep shaky breath, trying to swallow her tears.

  “Please, sir, I just want to go home to my family.” The last word was shaky as she could not stop her breakdown. Tears streaming down her face, she groped blindly for her seat. The
warmth of Percival’s hand on her shoulder squeezing as if he would never let go steadied her a bit. Once the guard caught sight of it, though, he flicked it off her shoulder like it was a troublesome fly. Percival made a sound of annoyance but did not try to retaliate.

 

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