Not to mention that she could not access her own fortune until she came of age when she reached thirty. That was still four years away. For an unwed woman, it might as well have been another lifetime.
Pushing her plate aside, Abigail decided that she needed some fresh air. Not that the air outside of Fairhaven was likely to be any fresher than the air inside, for it was just as hot, if not hotter, outside. However, out of doors, there was more chance of a breeze. And less chance of her stumbling upon anyone else who might wish to lecture her about her growing relationship with Adam.
Abigail had just reached one of Fairhaven's numerous side doors when she felt a presence behind her. Adam. It could be no other.
"Do you need something, your grace?" she asked, well aware that the walls of the manor house likely had ears in the form of very inquisitive servants.
"Just wondering if you would like some company on your walk, Miss Northrup," he replied as he came up beside her.
Abigail thought that even with her eyes closed, she would know his presence anywhere. It was simply another sign of how far gone she was over the man. "I would be delighted, your grace. But do you not have to prepare for the Fairhaven Cup? I would think that the participants from Crestfield Hall will be here soon."
Adam offered Abigail his arm. "Soon. But I find that a clear head is necessary before I compete, especially if I plan on winning. Arriving at the lake too soon will muddle my thinking and I do not want that."
"Win that much that you have a strategy, do you?" she teased as she allowed him to escort her out the door and onto one of the less-frequented side verandas.
"In my youth? Often?" In fact, there had been a time that just about everything, including winning sporting competitions, had come easily to Adam. But that was in the days before he had become a total arse. After nearly a fortnight of mulling over the matter - and how best to fix it - he could admit that easily enough. "Now that I am older, I find that I need it a good bit more focus than I did when I was younger."
They walked together in silence down the veranda steps and out onto a sprawling side lawn that led to a small grove of trees. Like the house, the trees' location was a remnant of the French-Norman era, and while they were currently oddly and incontinently placed, Enwright had never seen fit to move them. Now, they provided an excellent hiding place for Adam and Abigail so that they might talk. Or possibly more if she could convince him to indulge her again.
Glancing over his shoulder, Adam checked to make certain there was no one else on the lawn before pulling Abigail behind him and into the dense thicket of trees. Here, the air was slightly cooler - though that was not saying much - and the sun was filtered through a thick covering of leaves so it was not so relentless. In this little piece of woodland paradise, Adam felt himself relax a bit, the first he had done so since he saw Abigail and Sophia breakfasting together.
"I take it that my sister had some choice bits of wisdom she wished to share with you this morning?" Adam had no idea how long he had before someone from the races came looking for him, so he thought it best to get directly to the point.
Reaching up, Abigail undid her bonnet, once more heedless of how her skin might freckle. This was Adam and she did not wish to be peering out at him from beneath the behemoth of a hat that her mother insisted she wear - to the point where that was the only style of bonnet Abigail was allowed to purchase. "I believe that she was attempting to warn me away from you."
That made him frown. "Did it work?"
Abigail snorted. "What do you think?"
"I think that my sister is still very angry with me, especially since I have forbidden her from being even mostly alone with Selby. She is either in his presence in a room full of people or not at all. I am afraid that I do not trust either of them after the kissing incident last night. And until I can arrange to have someone watch over her without her knowing, I will likely continue to anger her in some fashion. Even though I do this for her own good."
Ah, yes. The kissing incident. Abigail had all but forgotten about it. Pity she hadn't remembered it earlier when Sophia was flinging about her accusations regarding Abigail and Adam.
The previous evening, just about everyone had been either participating in or in the audience for a rather bawdy production of select scenes from Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, which was being put on by a highly select group of guests led by Lady Josephine and her small circle of friends. Lady Sophia was supposed to make her entrance in the role of Hermia but instead of her sweeping into the large ballroom that had been temporarily converted into a miniature theater complete with stage, there was instead a deadening silence. Then came a high-pitched giggle followed by an accompanying low, almost guttural groan from the hallway - made all the louder because of the silence in the ballroom as the guests eagerly awaited the play's next line.
Lord Hunt had been the first to make it into the hallway, only to find Sophia and Selby wrapped in a passionate embrace. He had somehow managed to shield the couple from the worst of the curious onlookers, but they had been caught and no amount of attempting to brush the incident under the proverbial rug would make it go away. Despite how hard Adam and his mother had tried to do so.
Adam's outrage over the incident was yet another point in his favor with the Society matrons in attendance. It should have also put Sophia to the blush, but it was clear from her defiant actions that she would do no such thing. Instead, she simply tossed her head and acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As if she hadn't just been caught kissing a man she had been told to stay away from and, were her brother not a duke, would have been forced to wed - which had likely been her ultimate plan all along.
Even now, Abigail was uncertain how Adam had managed to extricate his sister from such a fate. Though she suspected that it had much to do with the fact that Fairhaven was known for its scandalous parties and many incidents that in other circumstances would have serious repercussions were instead simply swept aside.
"Your sister has very firm ideas about the sort of woman you should be with. And the sort you should not be but that she suspects you already are." Abigail didn't want to hurt Adam any more than he already had been, but he did need to know that Sophia was still on a campaign to get him to change his mind regarding her betrothal to Selby. "And about how you will break said woman's heart when you leave here in a few days."
Adam felt his own heart wrench in his chest. This was the very issue he had been grappling with the last few days. He wanted Abigail. She wanted him. But she did not wish to marry him, even though he was a duke and his social exile was quickly coming to an end. Yet he still wanted her. Badly. And she clearly still wanted him.
His newly developed code of honor insisted that he not take her without the protection of marriage. The libertine part of him said to take her anyway since that was what they both desired and damn the consequences. He had been a libertine far longer than he had been attempting to be a gentleman and that high-living side of him was winning out. As evidenced by his spiriting Abigail off to this copse of trees.
"But I told her that what I do and whom I do it with is my business." Abigail continued on as if Adam had spoken, even though he hadn't. Then she looked up at him with those whiskey eyes and he knew that in the end, the libertine in him would win every time. At least it would where this woman was concerned. "And I meant that. I am ready, Adam. No more waiting. I know you believe I am not, but I want this. I want you. And I understand what being with you in that manner will mean." Then she leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
The kiss caught him off guard, at least at first, but soon enough, Adam had turned the tables on Abigail, his tongue teasing her lips so that she might open for him. When she did, he delved deep, tasting her as if he could not get enough and pulling her tightly to him so that she might feel the now almost-constant evidence of his desire.
"Adam," she whispered as he nuzzled her neck, "I want you. I'm tired of waiting."
; "So am I, my darling," he confessed, feeling emboldened by the protection offered by the trees. Once more, there was a part of him that simply wanted to take her now and damn the consequences. Or his promises to her.
"Then let's stop waiting." She whimpered as he cupped her breast through her thin morning gown of sprigged muslin. "Tonight. I no longer even care where."
Adam felt his cock swell even more and begin to throb. He longed to be inside of her, but he knew that he had to stop this insanity now, before it went to far. For like his sister the previous evening when she had deliberately missed her cue, if Adam was not at the lake soon, someone would come looking for him. And unlike her, he would be forced to wed. He might want Abigail in his bed and as his duchess, but he would not force her. Not when he knew her views on the subject.
"Tonight," he agreed, grinding his hips into hers as he sought some relief. "I promise." Because in all honesty, he was not certain how much longer he could wait either - his attempts at being a gentleman be damned. And he made his decision. He would have Abigail tonight, even if it meant ruining them both in the process. He desired her that much.
Chapter Fifteen
Adam wasn't certain how he managed to disentangle himself from Abigail's sweet embrace, but somehow he did. Not without a few more stolen kisses, whispered promises and lingering caresses, however. Because no matter how good and noble his intentions were, it was extremely difficult to let her go even for a moment. Especially knowing that Fairhaven would be all but empty when the races on the lake began. It would have been the perfect opportunity to seduce her without anyone being the wiser.
Except that he was to be in those races and if he was not, he would arouse suspicion. And that would not do, at least not until he spoke with Lord Blackmore.
The man had offered Adam his services the day he arrived at the estate. Not only was he to take Rayne's place in the races, but he was also more than willing to discreetly shadow Sophia and Selby to prevent the possibility of the young buck absconding with her to Scotland and landing them all in a greater mess than they already had.
At the time, Adam had thanked the man but told him the watchful eye was unnecessary. However that was before the hallway kiss that had scandalized just about all of Fairhaven. Except for possibly Lady Huffton, who did not seem to be scandalized by much of anything. Not even Lord Rigsby, who was heir to a wealthy barony, stripping down to his very skin and dancing in Lord Enwright's rather ornate Italian Renaissance-style fountain a few evenings ago after too much French brandy. In fact, the old tabby had found it riotously funny.
Now, Adam had reconsidered his position on the matter of his increasingly willful sister, and if Lord Blackmore was still interested in watching over Sophia, then Adam would gladly pay the man whatever price he asked. It would be well worth the cost to know that his sister was safe. Perhaps, just perhaps, Adam was not quite the monster everyone proclaimed him to be. Or so he hoped.
Now as he stood by the edge of the lake, Adam looked around for Lord Blackmore but found him already engaged in deep conversation with Lord Guy Snowly, Viscount Strathaven, who was taking the place of Harry Greer in the race. The two men had only arrived at Fairhaven a few days previous but they had thrown themselves into the competition with gusto and Adam believed they now actually had a chance to win with those two brawny men rowing and swimming for Fairhaven. However, Adam wasn't certain where Lord Strathaven's loyalties lay with regard to Selby, so he decided to wait for a more opportune time to approach Blackmore about Sophia.
Adam had decided to look for a patch of grass where he might rest and center his thoughts for a moment before the competition began, but then, he was being called to the boat where Hunt and Berkshire were already waiting for him.
"In a good frame of mind, old boy?" Berkshire asked pointedly since Adam was by far the oldest member of the team, and, it was assumed, the most likely to tire first. "We really need to secure this victory for Fairhaven."
"Been a long time since Enwright has been able to claim victory over Crestfield," Blackmore, who had clearly been listening to everything around him even though his attention seemed to be elsewhere, responded. "Then again, until recently, all of the men here have been too damn foxed to even make it halfway across the damnable lake!"
Adam inclined his head. "I believe I am more than ready."
"As am I," offered Hunt. "The cup shan't slip away from us this year!"
The "cup," such as it was, was nothing more than a battered old goblet that someone had unearthed from an old boathouse years ago when the first competition between Fairhaven and Crestfield had begun. Over the years, it had been kicked down Crestfield's massive spiral staircase, thrown into a well so that a servant had to retrieve it, and, of all things, tied to the back of a goat that had then gotten loose and battered the cup against a stone bridge in an attempt to dislodge it.
Needless to say, The Fairhaven Cup looked quite a bit worse for the wear, but each year, both Fairhaven and Crestfield did their best to claim the severely dented old trophy as their own.
So when Lord Edmund Frampton, the current Viscount Killington, approached the small group with the Fairhaven Cup in his hands, it was not much to look at. But it was still a prize that Adam coveted very much. If only to prove that he could still compete. That he still had value - even after everything that had transpired.
"I have the cup!" Killington announced, setting the battered trophy on a nearby rock. "Have any of you seen Enwright? I had hoped to make a friendly wager on the event since I am unable to participate this year. Makes me feel more a part of the action."
Both Killington and Enwright had always been given the right of first refusal to take part in the competition. Enwright had never participated for reasons that Adam did not understand, but until this year, Killington had always been in the thick of things. A few months ago, however, he had been thrown from his horse when it had spooked in Hyde Park of all places. While the man had been lucky to escape death, he had badly broken his arm and it was still healing. There would be no Fairhaven Cup competition for the man this year.
"Over there." Blackmore pointed to one of the docks at the edge of the lake. "He's inspecting your boat with the captain of your team. Perhaps you'd like to join him."
"Indeed I would!" There was a certain joy in Killington that Adam envied. He could not ever remember being as happy as this man was - even though he was unable to participate in something that he clearly loved so much.
Except that being with Abigail made Adam happy. In fact, he could not ever remember being happy before he had met her, which was a sad commentary on the state of his life in general. And just then, he wondered if he would ever be happy again once he was forced to let her go at the end of this house party. Then, Blackmore was calling them to the boat and Adam had no more time to think about his situation with Abigail and why, exactly, she made him so happy.
"What do you think, men?" Strathaven asked as the other four made their way to where a long boat was beached just beside the one that Killington was currently inspecting. "Isn't she a beauty?"
"Quite," Lord Hunt replied, even though it was rather clear to Adam that the man wished to get on with things. From what Adam remembered, Hunt was an excellent swimmer, but he was not overly fond of boats since his mother had drowned in a boating accident when Hunt had been a child.
The Fairhaven Cup consisted of two parts. The first was a straight out boat race across the massive lake. The second was the relay swimming event where Adam was to be the final leg. He was a powerful short distance swimmer and since the final leg was a bit shorter than the others, he had been chosen to swim it rather than one of the middle legs.
Now, Adam helped the other men haul the boat into the water. He could see the Crestfield team doing the same. And out of the corner of his eye, he could see most of the party guests assembled on the shoreline nearest the house looking on and chattering in eager anticipation.
"She will be waiting when we are finished, you k
now." Hunt spoke low, directly into Adam's ear, though he made it a point not to mention Abigail by name. "It is clear that she adores you."
"We are merely friends." Adam did not wish to discuss this now. There was a race to win, and for some reason, he wanted to win that blasted cup very badly.
Hunt shrugged. "Find a way to wed her, for it's clear to all that's what you both want. It's not as if you have been secretive about it."
Actually, Adam thought they had done a fairly good job of hiding their affection. Perhaps he was not as sneaky as he had thought. So instead of replying when he could think of nothing to say, he merely made a grumbling noise.
However, Hunt would not be deterred and clearly felt compelled to make one last comment. "If there was a woman who looked at me the way Miss Northrup looks at you? I would damn everything, including that business associate of her father's and whisk her off to Scotland before he could."
"What business associate?" Now the man had Adam's attention. "Abigail has not mentioned him."
Hunt quirked an eyebrow at Adam's use of Abigail's Christian name, but he let it pass. "I have it on excellent authority from my father's man of affairs that a Mr. Abraham Burleigh, who is a business associate of Miss Northrup's father, is pressuring the man for her hand in exchange for a rather large and profitable shipping contract. The man is at least in his fifth decade, if not his sixth, but he views himself as still in his prime and wishes to make your Miss Northrup his third wife."
"Third?" Adam did not like the sound of that.
"The previous two Mrs. Burleighs died in childbirth, likely because they each already bore him at least six children a piece." Hunt's gaze took on a serious look. "The news, as well as a polite request that I mention the matter directly to you, was included in the letter that arrived for me several days ago regarding my father's failing health." The other man shrugged. "At first, I could not figure out why Mr. Hatcher would have even bothered to include such commentary, as it did not concern me, other than that you are my friend. Then I realized that all roads lead back to Lord Candlewood and I suspected that for some reason the Bloody Duke wished for you to know about this other man. A second letter containing much the same information arrived for me this morning, which is why I bring it up now."
The Kiss of a Rogue Page 21