Yes. Strong. Virile. Formidable.
“Fight, Garrett. Come back to me.”
Chapter 17
Summer 1830
They had been meeting everyday for three weeks. Garrett, randy at the best of times, found he could not draw breath without thinking of holding and kissing Abbie. Perhaps he suffered from an obsession, a fever of the heart. For he would not accept that it was something deeper. Like love.
Must be lust, for they could not keep their hands off each other. Inexpert in the ways of sex, they both caught on quickly enough, experimenting with different positions. The previous night had been particularly wild, with him behind her, pounding fiercely, reaching for…he wasn’t sure what. How could they keep up this pace? Abbie was here for another two weeks yet.
Candidly, Garrett understood it wasn’t only the scorching physical aspect. They got on well, had many similar interests. They had become friends. He admired her boldness, especially during sex. Shaking his head, he glanced about the tool shed. It was becoming more difficult to find places for their secret assignation. It was a wonder they had not been found out, for they were not exactly quiet during their multiple heated joinings.
And what about the future? He had plans, already had discussed the possibility of a horse breeding operation with his father. It would be quite an undertaking. The stables would have to be doubled in size, a breeding shed and different paddocks for the mares, stallions, and yearlings constructed. Larger feed storage facilities and an indoor training area. It would be years before he saw a profit, but Garrett could not wait to begin. He’d always loved horses.
Abbie loved them, too. Could he make her part of his future plans? Where had that thought come from? The door opened and Abbie stepped inside, causing his breath to hitch and his heart to pound.
She ran to his arms and he caught her up in a fierce embrace. He kissed her, hot, sweet, and deep, but Abbie pulled away, gazing up at him. “May we have a conversation before we lose ourselves?”
Talk? When every part of him throbbed with yearning? “We may not have much time…”
“Then we will not talk long.” Abbie grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the crates. She sat, pulling him down beside her. “Tell me more about yourself. What are your plans for the future?”
How fortuitous. Why did she wish to know any of this? His future would not include her. But staring at her beautiful, eager face, he hadn’t the heart to refuse. He spoke of his plans for horse breeding and she listened intently. “I will be attending Cambridge for the autumn session, though I’m still undecided where to focus my studies,” he said.
“You are the second son, there is always the church.” He made a face and she laughed. “Well, there’s the law. Or medical studies. Many second sons buy a commission in the army after university. But you would prefer to breed horses.”
“I’ve no interest in fighting wars. They are usually fought to further the ambitions of the rich, with the poor used as cannon fodder at the front lines.” He thought for a moment. “Learning estate law interests me; perhaps I will consider it. I would like to learn the ins and outs of running Wollstonecraft Hall. Our steward is elderly, his retirement is imminent. I believe I would enjoy taking over the position and would excel at it.”
“You would make a fine steward,” she beamed.
What was her point in asking these questions? Garrett was about to inquire when she vaulted herself at him, kissing him soundly. He was lost, drowning in her fresh wildflower scent, her feminine softness, the ferocious beating of her heart. As he kissed her, he cupped her full breast, his thumb brushing past her erect nipple until she whimpered with need.
There would be no rolling about the floor in this dusty shed. Instead, Garrett stood, bringing Abbie with him. He backed her up against the wall, pinning her there. While he kissed her, his hands roved over her curves and the bold minx clutched his stiff shaft and squeezed. A ragged moan tore from him.
Frantically fumbling with their clothes, he freed himself and entered her in a swift fashion, burying himself deep in her heated core. He stilled, nuzzled her neck, savoring the exquisite joy of being inside her. Then something happened—shifted, as if his soul opened to take her in. His heart swelled as he moved inside her. Lifting her high enough to meet his eager thrusts, Garrett gave everything he was and could ever hope to be.
Abbie threw her arms about his neck, clutching him tight. Accepting and open, allowing him to take control. Be dominant. Take complete possession. If he could live the rest of his life like this—inside her, loving her—then his life would be complete.
This coupling was not quick; he thrust into her for interminable moments, each seared in his memory. His heart and soul. Lost on some higher plane of passion, he was aware that Abbie had reached her peak twice and was building on a third. Still he pumped into her, completely absorbed. When at last they reached their climax together, it became the most perfect and awe-inspiring moment of his young life. Nothing going forward could equal this bliss.
Love. He acknowledged it. It poured through him like molten gold, and he allowed it to saturate him. But only for those few moments they were still joined, clasping each other, breathing hard. When that passed, he would reflect on it no more, nor would he accept the turbulent emotions for what they actually were. He would remain stalwart in his conviction of loving no woman. The curse must be at the forefront of his decisions. And if it meant turning away from this glorious young lady, then he would do it.
Until then…love. How powerful. How breathtakingly perfect.
The memory was soon replaced by Garrett standing in the middle of a frozen wasteland. A chill climbed up his spine, and his breath expelled in an icy fog. Damn it all, he was cold. When he had turned Abbie away at the end of her long-ago summer visit, this is where he’d resided ever since. In a barren, cold state.
At least he no longer carried his severed arm about. However, he could not will his injured arm to work. He was wearing the garments he’d worn on their ride. Ah. This is a dream. A metaphor for my life.
A lone wolf howled in the distance, the sound mournful and lonely. It grew ever closer, until the beast stood before him. The creature was huge, its ice blue eyes staring at him hungrily. Garrett dare not move. Wolves were rare in England. He’d never seen one except in paintings or picture books. The beast growled, its teeth long and sharp. With blinding clarity, he understood what this animal represented—a wolf was on the Wollstonecraft seal. The name itself meant “wolf stone.”
The curse. The wolf symbolized the curse.
It had returned with a vengeance and had come to consume him. Tear him to shreds. The wolf ran toward him, teeth bared. Blast it, he must fight, stand his ground. How could he with only one functioning arm and no weapon? The beast vaulted toward him, knocking him to the ground, ready to tear out his throat.
“No!”
* * * *
Abbie tried to keep Garrett’s good arm from thrashing about, but he was too strong, even in his weakened state. “When will the fever break, Dr. Faraday?”
The young man stared at Garrett, his brows furrowed. It had been close to twenty-four hours since they’d encased Garrett in a cocoon of tarps and chunks of ice. The room was frosty, as the windows were wide open, allowing the late January air to pour in. Abbie wore her wool cloak and still felt chilled. “I believe the crisis will be later tonight. The wound does not appear to be infected; however, there could be inflammation within. I will order more willow bark tea.”
“Abbie, come to the main parlor. Alberta and Jonas are here. We have tea and sandwiches. You must eat,” Julian said in a kind tone.
“I will stay with him,” Faraday stated. “Go. You must keep up your strength.”
Truly, she was hungry, as well as exhausted. Reluctantly, she stood, and gazed at a feverish, perspiring, and shivering Garrett.
Julian took her ar
m and escorted her from the room. “He will recover. He is too stubborn not to.”
Abbie gave Julian a shaky smile as they stepped into the main parlor. She’d never been in this room. It was huge, at least the size of a small ballroom. There did not appear to be gas lighting, as candelabras surrounded the perimeter, causing the gold wallpaper to shimmer. The polished parquet floor and high ceilings also gave the appearance of a ballroom.
“In the early days of my grandfather, this room saw many a country dance, and a couple of formal balls. Lately it has been used as a gathering place. At Christmas, we entertain the tenants and neighbors, hire an orchestra, and even indulge in a waltz or two. Father is not one for elaborate entertainments.”
“It is stunning.” Abbie stared up at the tiled ceiling. As with other rooms in Wollstonecraft Hall, a certain welcoming warmth and coziness beckoned despite its formal appearance.
Kind and sympathetic faces turned to her. Riordan and his wife, Sabrina. Abbie had been surprised to learn that Sabrina’s former lady’s maid, Miss Mary Tuttle, lived with the couple as a family member. And, Sabrina revealed, Mary had caught Oliver’s eye. Mary had stayed behind in Carrbury to look after Sabrina’s kitten and attend to Riordan’s schoolroom, with assistance from his oldest student, who was training to be a schoolmistress.
Alberta and Jonas smiled warmly. Megan left Jonas’s side and rushed toward her, hugging Abbie tight. “There is a late supper laid out on the sideboard. I informed the cook of your favorites,” Megan said.
“Thank you, my dear.” Her daughter escorted her to the vast array of food on display. Roast chicken, sliced hard-cooked eggs, lettuce, cheese, butter rolls—much like a picnic in January. Abbie did not stand on ceremony; she loaded her plate and took a seat at the long table in the center of the room. Everyone fell in line, selected food, and joined her.
Biting into the butterflake roll, Abbie nearly moaned aloud. Melt-in-your-mouth delicious. How could she enjoy a meal with Garrett upstairs fighting an infection? Perhaps even fighting for his life? She halted, and Alberta laid a comforting hand on her arm.
“It is perfectly fine to enjoy a meal,” her friend soothed.
“Yes,” Abbie murmured in response. She continued to eat, but not with the same enthusiasm.
“Where was Garrett shot? I mean, where outside?” Jonas asked as he buttered his roll.
“Not far from Wolf Stone Woods. Why, lad?” the earl asked.
Jonas’s nervous gaze darted around the table. “I…heard something.”
Everyone ceased eating. “What did you hear?” Alberta asked.
“Well, on the day Garrett was shot, I was in the woods. I wanted to feed the rabbits. I know I’m not supposed to leave the property, Bert, without telling you. I’m sorry.” Jonas looked down, contrite. “It’s why I didn’t say anything.”
Abbie glanced at Oliver, and it was plain he struggled to hold his temper.
Megan laid her hand on Jonas’s. “It’s all right. No one is angry with you. Please tell us everything.” Megan’s touch and soft words mollified Jonas. Looking at him, one could forget he was still a child in many ways, and because of it, there was no use in becoming annoyed with him.
Jonas looked up. “I couldn’t see much, but I heard two men talking. I hid behind one of the large oaks. One man called the other ‘my lord.’ The lord said something like, ‘Stay here, see if the Scottish barbarian dies, then return to London.’” Jonas paused, as if replaying the conversation in his mind. “I remember! He called the other man Delaney.”
Riordan vaulted to his feet. “Delaney is Sutherhorne’s bullyboy, the one who attended debtor’s court with him.”
Abbie blinked rapidly in confusion. “Sutherhorne? The marquess that kidnapped Sabrina?”
Oliver slammed his fist on the table. “The very one. This is all on me. I encouraged the family not to take any steps in bringing him to justice. I thought it futile. Damnation, I should have at least attempted it.”
“No, Oliver. We all agreed,” Sabrina stated. “We’re well aware that peers are rarely penalized for any crime. As you said, Sutherhorne has Prince Albert’s ear. And his friendship.”
“Regardless, I should have made a case to garner some sort of punishment.” Oliver banged his fist once again. Abbie had never seen the earl this angry.
“You all did it to protect me, to spare me censure from society. I hereby remove the impediment.” Sabrina’s mouth pulled into a taut line. “Bring him down, whatever it takes.”
Riordan sat, leaned in, and kissed his wife on the cheek. “My darling. Consider it done.”
“Did you see them at all, Jonas?” Julian asked.
“I did peek. One man is nearly as big as me, but I didn’t see his face. The other man had a white beard. And he was skinny.”
“Sutherhorne. Damn him. There is no mistake. Grandfather, we should head to Sevenoaks immediately. See if this Delaney character is still about,” Riordan said.
“The sun has set. If he’s at the inn, he will be there in the morning,” Oliver replied.
“Oh,” Jonas cried. “I remember, the old lord told the man not to stay at the inn.”
“Where else could one stay?” Julian asked.
“There are a small number of homes that take in guests. Perhaps we should head to Sevenoaks after all. Riordan, come with us. You have seen this Delaney and will be able to identify him,” Oliver replied.
Jonas stood. “I want to come, too. This man tried to hurt my Meg. And Abbie. He hurt Garrett. I can help.”
The men exchanged dubious looks, then Julian said, “Of course, lad. Garrett is usually the muscle of this clan. You will stand in his stead.”
Abbie was awed as the Wollstonecraft men sprung into action. In less than ten minutes they were ready to depart, with Julian carrying a large revolver. Abbie, Megan, Alberta, and Sabrina were left alone in the parlor.
“We might as well finish our meals. Megan, would you please refresh our tea?” Alberta asked.
Megan nodded and stood to fetch the teapot from the sideboard.
“Goodness,” Abbie murmured. “They are not to be crossed, are they?”
“No. They are fearsome men when provoked. You should have seen them when they broke in the door to rescue me from Sutherhorne.” Sabrina sighed. “I was anxious to put the episode behind me. When Oliver suggested not pursuing justice on the matter, I was silently relieved. But not because I was ashamed or feared Society’s wrath.” She dashed a lone tear from her eye. “Regardless of how my father treated me with such cold indifference, and the fact that he tried to sell me in marriage more than once, he is my father. I did not want him sent to Newgate Prison. A small part of me still loved him. How utterly pathetic.”
Abbie smiled warmly. “It speaks well of your kind heart that you feel empathy for him. And it’s perfectly understandable. When I had discovered I was pregnant at eighteen, my parents turned on me. Branded me a sinner, and worse. They threatened to throw me to the cobbles if I did not marry. Our relationship is strained to this day. Yet a small part of me will always love them, despite their abhorrent treatment of me.”
Megan stood with teapot in hand. “Truly, Mama? They treated you horribly! I am glad I’ve never met them.”
“I fear you never shall.”
“Well, you have a family now,” Sabrina smiled. “We stick together, and are loyal to a fault. And I include you in this, Alberta, if the heated looks that Julian gave you tonight are any indication.”
Alberta blushed and smiled in return. “We shall see where it leads.”
Megan refreshed everyone’s tea and took her seat. “I do hope they will be safe and find this terrible man. How can a marquess be capable of such a heinous act?”
Abbie frowned. “Unfortunately, there are more than a few peers like the marquess. Entitled, arrogant, thinking they are above the law. Many
have gotten away with lawless acts for centuries. It is past time they were held accountable.”
Placing her teacup on the saucer, Abbie turned her attention to her meal. She glanced upward. The sooner she finished eating, the sooner she could return to Garrett. A stab of pain lodged in her heart. He had to recover. He must. For she had not come all this way and exposed her vulnerable heart only to lose him.
It was not easy to admit, but her heart was still in a susceptible state, their rekindled love and passion balanced precariously on the edge of a cliff. It would not take much to fall either way, into darkness and despair, or a future and happiness. And it worried her. Greatly.
Chapter 18
“I believe the fever will break later tonight, or should I say early this morning?” Dr. Faraday murmured.
Glancing at the mantel clock, it was already close to one. The Wollstonecraft men had yet to return from their quest. “Doctor, why don’t you rest? I will call you if it comes to a crisis.”
“I am rather fatigued. Three hours, mind. No more. Then you must do the same. Promise me.”
Abbie had grown to like and admire the young doctor. His unwavering care and competency proved the earl had not been mistaken in laying his trust with Faraday. “I promise.”
“Good. I’ll be in the next room. Continue with the cold compresses.” The doctor departed, leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar.
They had ceased using the ice and tarps the previous afternoon, as Garrett’s skin had started to turn blue. Dipping the flannel in the basin and wringing out the excess water, Abbie then laid the cloth on Garrett’s perspiring forehead. At the moment he lay quiet, but earlier, he thrashed about yelling about wolves and snow. He was naked except for a pair of drawers, so Abbie swiped the cloth gently across his muscular chest. “Oh, Garrett. You are obstinate enough to fight this. Fight, my love.”
Scandal with a Sinful Scot Page 20