by Lisa Reisner
Abigail’s momentary bliss was broken as Marcus’s words reminded her of their current dilemma. Her head felt dizzy as she was overwhelmed with all the thoughts racing in her head. She took a seat and tears started to well up in her eyes. Abigail wanted to be in more control of her emotions, but she couldn’t seem to get a grip on them.
Marcus must have sensed Abigail’s inner turmoil. “Please don’t fret, my darling. I have taken care of everything. There is nothing you need to worry about.”
Abigail cupped his freshly shaven face with her hands and stared right into his eyes. She hoped he wouldn’t hate her for what she was about to say. “I can’t go through with this, Marcus.” Abigail could feel his jaw clench. “I will not permit you to leave your life behind for me. It would be entirely selfish of me to allow it to happen. You and Olivia should not have to pay for my mistakes, as you deserve far better than a life on the run. You would come to regret your decision and in turn hate me for it.”
Marcus closed his eyes and enveloped her in a tight embrace. Abigail realized he wasn’t mad at her, but appeared to be mulling over her statements. It was the same look he gave when he was plotting his next chess move. When he was done thinking, Marcus released her from his arms and sat her down on one of the chairs, then he went down on his knees before her.
“Do you like the earrings I gave you?” Marcus asked, staring up at her as if she were an angel.
Abigail didn’t know the direction he was going with his question, but she brushed her hand against one of the sparkling gems at her earlobes and smiled. “I love them. They mean so much to me. I hate taking them off.”
“I’m glad you like them. I had a matching ring made a few weeks ago, it was to be your engagement present,” Marcus divulged with solemnity. Abigail’s heart squeezed against her rib cage. It finally began to dawn on her just how much Marcus cared for her. “The ring arrived from the jeweler a few days after I thought you were lost to me forever. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at it, so I had the jeweler anonymously deliver it to Lady Sunderland to benefit the charity auction for Sacred Heart Orphanage.”
Abigail ran her finger through Marcus’s coarse, dark hair. “I wish we could be married. I would give anything to be your wife. I would do my very best to make you happy, each day, for the rest of your life.”
Marcus wiped away Abigail’s tears. “You wouldn’t have to do anything because just seeing your face makes me happy. Of course, sharing your bed is like heaven, but just the simple, day to day pleasure of reading our books side by side together in my library feels wonderful. You make me feel more alive than I have ever been. You make each day better than the last and that is why I will never let you go.”
Abigail let out a nervous giggle. “Perhaps we should give up lovemaking all together and install ourselves in the library.”
Marcus addressed her suggestion with a sharp bark of laughter. “That may work. I am quite sure we can make great use out of the desks and bookcases.”
Abigail grinned at his wicked comment. “I’m in love with the devil.”
Her announcement sobered Marcus’s playful expression. “I love you too, Abigail.” It began to dawn on Abigail they both needed to make a fresh start in America. All her doubts and fears were starting to fade away. She finally recognized Marcus needed her as much as she needed him. “When I lost my brother, the world became a dark, ugly place. I lost my faith in people, but you made me see the good in things again. You made me stop hating myself and gave me the strength to start being a true father to Olivia.”
Abigail interrupted his words. “It was always in you to be a good father. You simply needed time to adjust yourself to the role. I could never replace Olivia’s mother, but I will give her all the love in my heart. I can’t wait to see her again. It has been dreadful to be without her.” She paused a moment as she envisioned seeing Olivia again. “But there is a very serious question I need to ask you, Marcus.”
Marcus frowned. “Yes?”
“Do you think they have ices in America?” Abigail asked with a straight face.
Marcus rose to his feet and pulled her up against him. He flashed a devastating smile that made her feel weak in the knees. “If there aren’t, I will open the first ever confectionary and ices store in America.”
“That actually sounds like a fantastic idea,” Abigail encouraged in a half serious tone. “Of course, you will also have to buy a fabric store.”
Marcus shot her a perplexed look. “I was unaware of your interest in textiles.”
“I have absolutely no interest in fabric, but I do believe it will be more cost effective to have access to an unlimited amount of material.” Abigail couldn’t hide her smile any longer. “Especially when I eat your entire supply of mallows and fudge, and you will need to fit me for an entirely new wardrobe.”
They both burst into hysterical laughter, hardly able to catch their breath, blissfully unaware of the danger that was upon them.
“I am sorry to interrupt your pleasant morning,” Clayton announced acidly. “The two of you make such a sweet pair. It is really quite a shame that I am going to have to murder you both.” Abigail was in shock. She had always expected Clayton to find her, but not like this, not in Marcus’s arms. Her stomach dropped when she saw the pistol in Clayton’s hand. Except for a black eye and a jagged slash across his cheek, Clayton looked exactly as she remembered. It was the face that would haunt her dreams forever. “What is wrong, my sweet? Are you afraid of your beloved husband? It is almost as if you were seeing a ghost.” Clayton stopped to scratch his head in mock confusion. “Rather odd, especially when it is me who should feel as if I’m seeing a ghost.”
“Leave us alone, you son of a bitch,” Marcus raged. “If you harm one hair on her head, I will flay you alive. I swear it.”
Clayton pointed the gun directly at Marcus’s heart. “Lord Everton, you seem to forget I am the one holding the gun.” He started laughing like a mad man as he put his finger on the trigger. “Perhaps you need a reminder.”
Abigail flung herself in front of Marcus. “Please, Clayton, it is not him you want, it is me. I am the one who betrayed your trust.”
Marcus shoved Abigail aside. “The lady is probably correct. Picking on someone your own size would not be your usual style.”
Clayton’s face turned red with anger. “You dare mock me. I will teach you a lesson you will never forget.”
Mrs. Hutchinson screamed in horror as she entered the garden, dropping the silver breakfast tray she carried. The sound of broken dishes and the clanging of silver startled everyone. Clayton turned around to see the cause of the commotion and Marcus seized on the golden opportunity.
Abigail watched in disbelief as Marcus tackled Clayton to the ground. They rolled around like two angry wild boars fighting for survival. It was very clear neither one would give up easily and in turn, this would end very badly for one of them.
Marcus rammed his knee into Clayton’s stomach as he tried to wrestle the gun away from him. In retaliation, Clayton bit into Marcus’s shoulder, forcing Marcus to lose his tight hold. Abigail desperately searched for a makeshift weapon. Clayton would not be the only one to not fight fair. She found a garden rake and ran towards the brawl.
“Stop. In the name of the King,” the local magistrate, Clive Rigby, shouted with authority. “Stop the fighting at once.”
Abigail was stunned when she looked up to find the magistrate standing next to Marcus’s friend, Jordan Stockdale. He must have known of Clayton’s intentions and alerted the authorities.
“Lord Bainbridge is mad, sir. He was about to shoot us both, Lord Everton is just trying to subdue him,” Abigail defended. Clive Rigby assessed both men on the ground, each one refusing to let go of the other. “Please take the gun away from him.”
“She speaks the truth. I shall free him once you remove the gun from his possession,” Marcus declared, his voice hoarse with exertion.
Mr. Rigby kneeled beside Marcus and forc
ed the pistol from Clayton’s tight grip. The magistrate stood up and said “I have the weapon. Please release him, Lord Everton, this man is to be arrested on murder charges.”
“Murder?” Marcus and Abigail repeated in unison.
“Yes,” Mr. Rigby confirmed. “Lord Bainbridge attacked one of his servants, which led to her unfortunate demise. He will likely hang for his crime.”
Marcus let Clayton go and slowly came to his feet. Mr. Rigby reached for his manacles to restrain and arrest Lord Bainbridge.
Clayton jumped up and reached inside his waist coat, revealing a second pistol. His eyes were fixed on Marcus. “Which is why I have very little to lose by killing you!”
Two gunshots rang out. One clearly intended for Marcus, the other for Clayton, fired by the magistrate. With lightning speed, Jordan shoved Marcus to the ground to avoid the blast.
Abigail felt a strange prickly sensation on her head. She stumbled to the ground, suddenly to dizzy to stand. Her hand reached up to her throbbing forehead and she noticed it was stained with blood, her blood. Mrs. Hutchinson screamed her name and then everything went black.
The last thing she could remember was Marcus’s frantic voice calling for a physician.
Chapter 29
“She was really quite lucky. The bullet only grazed her scalp. One centimeter to the left and she would have died instantly, but from the looks of things I expect her to make a full recovery,” Dr. Samson predicted with certainty.
Marcus was petrified. Abigail looked so small and pale lying in the enormous four poster bed. “So why hasn’t she woken up?”
“Head injuries are tricky, but it is not all that uncommon for a person to be unconscious for some time after such a traumatic incident.” Marcus gave the physician an uncertain look; he wasn’t convinced. He longed to hear the sound of Abigail’s sweet voice. “Lord Everton, you have every right to be concerned, but her pulse and respiration are both very strong. With a little rest, I am confident she will come to herself soon.”
Marcus forced a smile. He desperately wanted to believe Dr. Samson’s words. The very idea of losing Abigail made him physically ill. He had spent the past six hours at her bedside, hoping to see her eyes flutter open.
“I will be downstairs if you need my assistance,” Dr. Samson said as he opened the door to leave. “Just give it a little time, my lord. She will be up and about in a few short hours.”
“Thank you,” Marcus said as the doctor left the room.
Marcus lifted Abigail’s delicate hand and brought it to his lips. “Please wake up darling. You have everything to live for now.” He placed a small linen towel in a cool water basin and dabbed Abigail’s forehead. Marcus thought the ice-cold water would wake Abigail from her deep slumber. “Clayton is in hell, where he belongs and we can start our life together, as man and wife.” God help him, but he almost smiled at the sight of Lord Bainbridge’s lifeless body. In a world that was sometimes filled with terrible injustices, Clayton Bainbridge finally got exactly what he deserved.
Marcus started to pace the room. He spotted a bottle of ink and paper, suddenly struck with inspiration. “Let’s make a list of all the reasons you should wake up.” Marcus knew he was being ridiculous. In all likelihood Abigail couldn’t hear a word he was saying, but for some reason it made him feel better to do it. Somewhere in the corner of his frantic mind he believed by making a list, Abigail’s waking would come to fruition. He grabbed a book to write on, sat on the edge of the bed, and started to make his list. “One, as my countess you will live a life of luxury – fine jewels, furs; name it and it’s yours. Two, you can decorate the townhouse and our country estate as you see fit. Three...”
Marcus continued his diatribe for the next hour. He was too engrossed in number twenty to realize Abigail’s small stirrings.
“Sunday,” Abigail mumbled as she stretched her arms up.
The soft sound of her voice jolted him back into reality. His heart swelled upon witnessing the blossom of color in her cheeks. Marcus climbed next to her in the bed and looked into her lavender eyes. “What is it my dear? Are you in pain?” Abigail’s lips curled into a grin and she repeated the word Sunday.
“Sunday,” Marcus said as he started to worry over her mental state. What could she be talking about?
“Number twenty-one, you will be obligated to take Olivia and I to Bristow’s every Sunday for mallows and ices,” Abigail said in a half serious tone. “I am quite dead set on that matter. I will be unable to marry you if that is not in writing.”
Marcus was dumbstruck, relief washing over him. He would have laughed, but his chest tightened with tenderness and pride. This one woman answered all his prayers and soon she would be his and his alone. Thank God she is alright. He was luckiest man on earth.
When he didn’t make a reply to her request, Abigail sat up in the bed. “Maybe you just need to think about it.” Abigail put on her bargaining face. “Oh alright, I will make the concession of giving you half my mallows if you are on your best behavior.”
This time Marcus’s shoulders shook with laughter. He crushed her against him and kissed her lips with all the love he had for her in his heart.
∞
“I have never given a damn about society’s opinions, but Robert makes a very good point,” Jordan Stockdale remarked as he handed a glass of scotch to Marcus.
Robert had traveled to Gloucestershire to offer any assistance Marcus may need after the word of Clayton’s death reached him. He sat across from Marcus and Abigail in the drawing room of his country cottage. Abigail felt Marcus’s protective arm around her shoulders. Since the shooting, he had barely left her side and it felt terrific. However, having Clayton out of their lives permanently came at a high cost. Once word of the shooting reached London there would be a terrible scandal to face.
“Robert is right, Marcus. We need to handle this matter properly. Perhaps we should spend some time apart until things cool off,” Abigail suggested, despite finding the idea of being without Marcus unbearable. “It may be for the best.”
“Out of the question,” Marcus roared. “We have been denied each other’s company for far too long already. I have already applied for a special marriage license. When we reach London, we will be married. End of discussion.”
Marcus’s declaration was everything she ever wanted to hear, but she knew there was much more to consider. “We must think of Olivia and her future,” Abigail gently reminded him, as she stood up to make her point. “I am sure there is way in which we can smooth things over.”
“Exactly,” Robert interjected. “Even now, Caroline is hard at work coming up with a solution.”
“I do not like this one bit,” Marcus announced with displeasure.
Jordan spoke up as the voice of reason. “Unfortunately, I agree with them both. It is what is best for Olivia, not to mention what is best for Abigail. It may not seem like it now, but you would hate it if society shunned your new bride.”
“Oh, all right,” Marcus conceded.
Abigail felt relieved. She stepped forward to put her arms around Marcus but was prevented from doing so when the room started to sway before her eyes. Abigail had many headaches since the shooting, although nothing compared to this episode. She tried to steady herself, but she lost her balance, falling into Marcus’s arms.
“Abigail, darling, are you alright?” Marcus asked, his eyes filled with concern. “Robert, summon Dr. Samson at once!”
Robert left in search of the physician and Jordan poured Abigail a glass of water as Marcus gently placed her on the settee.
Abigail was embarrassed by all the attention, especially because she was already starting to feel better. “I am fine now. It was only a little dizzy spell. I am sure we don’t need to bother Dr. Samson over it.”
“We’ll see if Dr. Samson comes to that conclusion after he examines you,” Marcus said sternly.
Two hours later, Marcus was summoned back into the drawing room with Jordan and Robert follow
ing in his wake. Abigail was in shock over Dr. Samson’s findings. She wondered how Marcus would take the news.
Marcus’s shoulders were tense as he sat beside Abigail and took her hand. She hated seeing him so worried. “Dr. Samson says I’m in perfect health.”
“Moments ago, you almost fainted. That doesn’t happen to someone in perfect health,” Marcus challenged as he directed his attention towards Dr. Samson. “Isn’t that right, Doctor?”
“Not exactly, Lord Everton,” Dr. Samson answered as he eyed Robert and Jordan. “Perhaps it would be better to discuss Miss Jenner’s health in private.”
Robert and Jordan nodded their heads in agreement and started to make their way towards the door but were halted by Marcus’s deep voice. “Lord Sunderland and Mr. Stockdale are like family to me, whatever it is, no matter how bad, they should be here for the news.”
Dr. Samson gave Abigail an uncertain look. She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It is alright, Dr. Samson. Sooner or later they will learn the truth. It is something I will eventually be unable to hide.”
“Whatever it is, we will handle it together,” Marcus declared as his finger circled the inside of her wrist. He turned to Dr. Samson and braced himself. “I’m ready, Doctor. Don’t hold anything back, I want to hear everything.”
“As the lady already told you, she is in perfect health.” Dr. Samson smiled when Marcus shot him a dubious look. “Of course, she does have an underlying condition, which was in existence before the gunshot wound. It explains the dizzy spells and nausea Abigail has been feeling.”
Abigail heard muffled laughter from the corner of the room in which Robert and Jordan stood; clearly, they had figured out her condition. The only person who still seemed completely in the dark was Marcus, who was growing irater by the moment.
“Is something funny?” Marcus snapped. “What in the hell is going on here?”
Abigail couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to put him out of his misery. Abigail’s grip tightened on his arm “I am going to have a baby, Marcus.”