by Lisa Reisner
“What else could you think after the way I jumped to my false conclusions? Besides, your apology will never happen if we don’t find Abigail.” Marcus tried desperately to calm his worries, but the thought of Abigail in danger made him insane. “God only knows what could happen to her. She’s out there, all alone, and I have no one to blame but myself.”
Jane’s eyes filled with compassion and remorse. “Lord Everton, stop blaming yourself, this is actually all my fault. I pushed Abigail into her current situation. I thought working in London would be the perfect place for her to hide, but I was wrong.” Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “It was my mistake, not realizing Abigail is the kind of woman that does not go unnoticed.” Jane’s sad expression turned to anger. “If it wasn’t for those blasted Applewoods, we would not be in this bloody predicament.”
“I second the notion,” Marcus concurred. He had almost forgotten about the Applewoods’ part in this debacle. Marcus recognized there were more pressing issues on the current agenda than gaining retribution from the Applewoods, but when the time was right, he would make them pay. At least their actions brought forth the truth. “But it is probably better I am no longer in the dark about things.” Marcus leaned back and looked directly at Jane. He wanted to see her reaction to his next statement. “Before I mistakenly thought she was having an affair, I was on the verge of proposing to Abigail.”
Jane’s expression softened. An astonished smile appeared on her face. “I owe you an apology, Lord Everton, for doubting your true intentions towards Abigail.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “My opinion of men in general is not very high, and I am glad you proved me wrong.”
Jordan gave Jane a peculiar look. “So, you expect others to behave righteously, even when you don’t live up to such lofty standards?”
Jane’s delicate hands tightly gripped the armchair. “You are questioning my righteousness, after the way you treated me?” Jane rose to her feet. “I lost everything because I took a chance on you!”
“You lost everything!” Jordan gasped as he emerged from his seat, towering over her with his intimidating height. “I guess losing social position and wealth would mean everything to a devious tart like you!”
“Enough,” Marcus interrupted, slamming his fist down onto his desk. “The two of you must try to remain civil towards one another. Whatever happened in the past needs to stay there for now so we can all focus on finding Abigail. Liam Stone is already investigating the matter, but I am going to need you both in the right frame of mind to help me.”
Jane and Jordan ceased their argument and gave Marcus their full attention.
“Of course,” Jordan said. “I will do anything you require of me.” Marcus smiled. He was lucky to have such a steadfast friend.
Jane also looked eager to offer her assistance. “It would be my pleasure to help.” It appeared that Abigail was equally as lucky to have Jane.
“Good. I am very thankful you are both cooperating.” Marcus turned to Jordan and barked orders like a general. “I need you to search every inn in London, anyplace where Abigail may have spent the last few nights.” Then his gaze shifted to Jane. “If Abigail tries to contact you, I will need to know immediately. There is always a chance she may tell you her whereabouts.”
Marcus’s instructions caused an unexpected shiver from Jane. “I almost forget to warn you.” She wrinkled her nose with distaste. “A post arrived at the Bainbridge estate last night. I am certain Clayton was made aware of Abigail’s ruse in the letter. I do believe he will be coming here in a matter of hours.” Jane shivered. “He is a very dangerous man, especially when he is angry.”
The mention of Clayton’s name caused a visceral reaction in Marcus. He wanted to inflict him with as much excruciating pain as Abigail suffered. “I will be delighted to take care of Lord Bainbridge,” Marcus said through his clenched teeth. “I will join Liam and Jordan in their search after he stops by.”
“I can also stay here until he arrives,” Jordan enthusiastically suggested.
“Thanks for offering, but you will better serve me by beginning to search for Abigail.” Marcus was itching for the chance to face Clayton. “Besides, I want him all to myself.”
Jordan nodded with unspoken understanding. “Alright, then I will be off.”
“I will be taking my leave also,” Jane announced. “I am going to visit Lady Sunderland and inform her of the current situation. Clayton may have been notified of Caroline’s involvement in placing Abigail in a governess position and he might suspect her of deliberately aiding his wife in plotting against him.”
“I will take you there. It is not safe for you to be traveling alone,” Jordan asserted.
“That will not be necessary. I already have a male escort.”
Marcus could have sworn he saw a mixture of disappointment and jealousy flash across Jordan’s face.
“I am not surprised,” Jordan sneered. “You always were surrounded by admirers.”
Jane’s mouth opened in outrage. “Not that it is any of your business, but our stable master was gracious enough to accompany me.” But her anger gave way to exhaustion. “Jordan, I am very tired from the long night’s journey and I would appreciate it if you would cease from insulting me any further.”
“As you wish,” Jordan complied and looked at Marcus. “I will act in a manner that will please my friend.”
Marcus gave Jordan a satisfied look. They both walked Jane to the modest coach she traveled in. Marcus spotted her very large male companion who was in the driver’s seat. “Please see to Miss Whitworth’s safety.”
“Not to worry, my lord. Sacred Heart would be lost without Miss Whitworth. I will make sure she is brought back safe and sound,” Thomas answered with conviction.
Jane smiled at Thomas’s loyal statements and then glanced at Marcus as she boarded the conveyance. “Lord Everton, what are you planning to do if you find Abigail?” Jane’s expression was melancholy. “Unfortunately, she is legally bound to that ogre for the rest of her life. He has every right to do as he pleases.”
Marcus swallowed against the bitter truth of Jane’s words. “I am not exactly sure, but I will do everything in my power to make certain Abigail is protected from him.”
Jane gave Marcus an uncertain smile and the carriage was off. Marcus watched Jordan mount his horse and leave in search of Abigail and he was left alone with his thoughts. His sound and logical mind told him he needed to realize the reality of Jane’s question, but his heart refused to listen.
For the first time in his life, Lord Marcus Everton, the tenth Earl of Selden, felt helpless.
Chapter 24
Abigail’s eyes took in the picturesque view of the five valleys that converged on the small village of Stroud in the heart of Gloucestershire. She took in a deep breath of the lovely, fresh country air and inhaled the exquisite scent of wild daffodils. Her body and mind were in turmoil, but if there was any hope of finding peace, it would be in a place like this.
She had arrived this morning at Caroline’s cottage after a long two-day journey. The friendly housekeeper, Mrs. Hutchinson, gave her a tour of the quaint chalet, named Shetland Park. Abigail admired the elegant simplicity of the décor. Each room was painted in a different pastel shade and most of furniture was white, which gave the home a light and airy atmosphere.
After a restorative nap and hot bath, Abigail informed Mrs. Hutchinson that she desired a long walk. Abigail needed to clear her head and nature always managed to give her comfort, even in the most trying times of her life.
The housekeeper was happy to tell her of the most scenic route to take, which led to the local parish. After an hour of walking, she could see the small white building in the distance. At present there were many empty coaches parked outside and Abigail assumed there was a service going on. She located a small bench, where she could observe the townspeople without being noticed.
There was light breeze and the sunshine felt divine against her skin. This
would have been Abigail’s idea of a perfect afternoon, had it not been for her current situation. Instead of dwelling on her dismal circumstances, Abigail imagined Marcus holding her hand and quietly enjoying the beautiful spring day. She spotted a hopscotch game drawn in a patch of dirt and pictured Olivia laughing as she entertained herself with one of her favorite pastimes. They could be so happy here.
Abigail’s daydream was broken when she heard muffled laughter and cheering. To her surprise, the large doors of the church swung open and a joyful group of people lined the steps of the house of worship. Abigail smiled when she saw a blissful couple emerge. Clearly, it was their wedding day. The groom beamed at his graceful bride, who wore a pale pink gown with a white Chantilly lace overlay, and the church revelers threw rice at them as they walked down the stairs and boarded their coach.
The scene held such sweet promise it brought tears to Abigail’s eyes. It was another reminder she would never get to experience the joys of sharing her life with another or having a family of her own.
Marcus would want a family of his own one day. He would take another, more deserving woman to be his bride. She would be, in Abigail’s mind, the luckiest woman in England. Although the thought of Marcus with someone else tore her heart into shreds, she knew he deserved to find happiness and Olivia deserved a mother.
She wondered if by now the Applewoods had made her secret known to all. She wondered if Clayton was hot on her heels and searching for her. Most of all, she wondered if Marcus knew the whole truth and hated her even more.
∞
Hate was the very prominent feeling on Marcus’s mind as he paced his office, waiting for the imminent arrival of Abigail’s husband. Apart from his wartime duty for his country, Marcus never considered himself to be a violent man. He truly believed violence rarely solved any problem, but the desire to beat Clayton Bainbridge to a bloody pulp was overwhelming.
Marcus always disapproved of a man raising a hand towards a woman, but he never had to personally deal with the issue, especially when the violence was extreme and brutal. The idea of someone striking Abigail made Marcus so furious he could barely see straight. Abigail was a woman to be cherished, not tortured. The Viscount of Barclay must truly be demented to want to hurt such a gentle individual.
With his thoughts turning to Abigail, Marcus gritted his teeth with impatience. He could be searching for her right now, but he was wasting his time waiting for this animal to arrive. A part of him wanted to leave and say to hell with Clayton Bainbridge, but Marcus knew that would not be wise. He realized he needed to assess the kind of opponent Lord Bainbridge would be, and more importantly, if the ogre had any idea of her whereabouts. Abigail’s safety was his first and most important concern.
Within minutes, Marcus was rewarded for his patience with the sound of harsh pounding on the front door of his townhouse. He emerged from his study and watched Grumman show Lord Bainbridge into the foyer. It only took a moment for Marcus to size up his adversary. Marcus was clearly taller and more physically fit, but Clayton did have a decent amount of brawn to his build, which only ignited Marcus’s rage because he knew Clayton had used his powerful physique against Abigail.
Marcus had pictured the Viscount of Barclay to have dark, ominous features, but that was not the case. Clayton was very blonde with a large angular face. His most striking trait was a pair of ice-blue eyes. At first, most people would judge his appearance to be almost angelic, but Marcus’s senses were alerted to an unmistakable air of depravity that seemed to cling to the man.
“I demand to see my wife at once,” Clayton demanded of Grumman. “Bring her to me immediately.”
Grumman wore a stunned expression. Grumman was not used to such brazenness, had Marcus not been so consumed with anger he would have laughed at Grumman’s response. “I beg your pardon sir, but I would ask you to show some respect for Lord Everton while you are a guest in his home.”
Clayton went red with fury. “How dare a lowly servant speak to me in such a manner? I will see you fired for such impertinence!”
“I think you should take my butler’s advice and show more respect for me,” Marcus suggested in a deadly calm voice. His eyes narrowed with disgust as he surveyed Clayton from the top his forehead to the bottom of his polished Hessians. The sight of this man made him feel truly ill. “You have exactly five minutes to explain your presence in my home.”
Clayton’s hands clenched into tight fists as he walked towards Marcus. “Apparently, you are just as lax with the handling of your servants as you are in doing a thorough check of their past before you take them into your household.” Clayton’s condescending gaze swept over Marcus. “Less than two months ago you hired my wife, Abigail Bainbridge, as a governess. If you would have checked her references properly this whole situation could have been avoided.”
Marcus decided to play dumb. He didn’t want Clayton knowing any information that could be used against Abigail. It did please him to know Clayton thought she was still here. At the very least, Marcus felt ahead of the game because he already had Liam and Jordan looking for her. “I did employ Abigail as a governess for my niece, but she left the position over a week ago and I have no idea where she is.” Marcus grabbed his chin as if he were trying to make sense of things. “But I am not certain I understand you correctly. Why would a countess leave her luxurious position and seek work as a mere governess? I am an earl myself and I can’t imagine my future wife doing anything of the kind.”
Clayton didn’t take the bait, but Marcus noticed a slight twitch in Lord Bainbridge’s left eye. Clearly, he was losing his patience but instead of answering the question he focused on Marcus’s bachelorhood. “So, you are not married and my wife stayed here, with you, without any chaperone?”
Marcus wanted Clayton to make the first punch. Grumman was a witness and anything Marcus did would be considered self-defense if Clayton made the initial move. He needed to goad him into showing his true colors. “I am not certain I like what you are implying.” Marcus gave him mocking smile. “Surely, you keep your wife satisfied enough that she would not turn to me for pleasure.”
Marcus succeeded in pushing Clayton’s temper over the edge. With deft precision, he caught Clayton’s fist before it collided into his jaw. Marcus’s grip tightened on Clayton’s hand and he pressed his adversary’s fingers back until he cried out in agony. “I thought you should experience what it is like to have your wrist broken, just as you did to Abigail.” Marcus grabbed his throat with his free hand and slammed him up against the wall. “So, how does it feel, you coward?”
Clayton tried unsuccessfully to break free from Marcus’s grip. Only having one useful arm to fight with would be challenging for anyone. “You will regret this, Lord Everton.”
Marcus kneed Clayton in the stomach with all the force he could muster. His mind was churning with Liam’s voice as he recalled all the vile details of Clayton’s treatment toward Abigail. A rage so full of ferocity took over Marcus’s body and the only thing he was clear about was inflicting as much pain as possible on Clayton. “I highly doubt that! What kind of man touches a woman in anger? You disgust me.”
“It seems you have developed a fondness for my wife,” Clayton hissed through the pain of the blow. “But that is the rub isn’t it? She is my wife and not yours.” Clayton paused to spit out blood. “And I will do with her what I want and there is nothing you can do to stop me!”
“The hell there isn’t,” Marcus challenged as he threw Clayton down to the ground. He lunged over him and began to pummel his face wildly. Marcus appeared to be egged on by the revolting sound of fist against bone.
“Uncle Marcus,” Olivia screamed from the top of the steps.
Olivia’s voice broke through the madness of his wrath and he abruptly stopped what he was doing. Clayton moaned with relief from the temporary reprieve. He turned to look at Olivia’s tear streaked face. She looked terrified, her tiny features mirroring pure panic.
Marcus slowly rose to
his full height. “Everything is going to be all right, Olivia. Lord Bainbridge was just about to leave. Please go to your room and I will be up in a minute.”
Olivia scurried away and Marcus quickly ordered his footmen to carry Clayton to his carriage. Clayton was barely conscious as he groaned in agony on the floor. He wanted to finish him off, but the sight of his niece made him think twice. Marcus could simply not risk being found guilty of murder and leaving Olivia all alone in the world. There would have to be another way to save Abigail.
Marcus watched his servants load Clayton’s limp body into his carriage. Lord Bainbridge’s coachman looked shocked by the macabre appearance of his employer, but apparently the feeling of hatred for Clayton was quite universal because the coachman smiled at Marcus when he glimpsed Marcus’s bloodied hands.
“Tell your master he is never to return to my home, because next time I will surely kill him,” Marcus pledged to the coachman. “And if he knows what’s in the best interest of his health, he will stay away from Abigail.”
“So, it is true, our lady is still alive.” The coachman grinned as he smacked his hip. “I knew she had grit to her. Everyone else walks on tippy toes around the master, but not her, she sure showed him.” The coachman grabbed hold of his reigns. “Well, I best be on my way, good day, my lord.”
Marcus watched as the coach drove away. He knew Lord Bainbridge’s injuries were severe enough to slow him down for a few days. This would buy Marcus some time. Hopefully he would find Abigail before Clayton did.
Marcus went back inside and spotted Grumman holding a basin full of warm water and a towel.
“Perhaps you would like to tidy up before you speak with Olivia,” Grumman suggested.
Olivia! He had almost forgotten that Olivia witnessed everything. “Yes, of course. Grumman, I am not sure what I would do without you.”