Saving Lady Abigail: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abby Ayles

  Lady Abigail seemed to look up at him for some moments. In that time Gilchrist studied the curves of her face, the delicate speckles along her nose, and even the soft strands of hair that let loose and blew in the wind.

  He would accept her answer whatever it would be. However, he would not stay long if she did not wish to attach herself to him. It would be too much. In his mind, he prepared for this to be the very last time that he looked on the face of Lady Abigail Grant.

  “Are you asking me to marry you?” Lady Abigail finally formed the words.

  “Yes,” he said with an embarrassed laugh before rubbing the unscarred side of his chin, “that is what I meant.”

  “But why? Why on earth would you want to do that? There is no benefit to you. I could never do such a thing to save my own dignity. I would never ask such a thing of you.”

  “I know, I’m asking you,” Gilchrist said with a little tease, not precisely happy with the answer he got.

  “But you would be stuck with me. I thought you rather didn’t like me much?” she said, looking back at him.

  “I agree we have had our differences, but I find you a good friend. I can share with you things I have never put into words for another. I would give you my name for protection; my home would be your own. You would not be so far from your family. I know that you also find my sister and mother good company. It wouldn’t be so terrible for you,” he seemed to try to convince her of the benefit of this union.

  “I am well aware why accepting your marriage proposal would be a good and logical choice for myself. You have done so much for me. However, I don’t know that I could ever wish to lock you in such a situation.”

  “Why ever not?” Gilchrist said, trying to hold in his laugh. This woman honestly had no idea how much he wished that she would not only marry him but perhaps even find a way to care for him over the years.

  “Well don’t you want to, you know, find a match of your own choosing?”

  “I can’t imagine many will be lining up to be the Countess of Gilchrist. My mother quite hates me for that fact, I am sure.”

  “You mean for lack of an heir,” Lady Abigail said with a deep swallow.

  Gilchrist imagined it was the first time that the realization of the results of their marriage had come to her mind. He was sure at that moment she could not stomach the idea of having his child. He would not require such of her if she didn’t wish it.

  “That is her reasoning, yes. I would be happy just to appease her with a wife. It would also be nice to have a companion in life, if that was something you also wished for,” Gilchrist added tentatively.

  She turned from him at this point and walked forward a few paces as she thought the matter over. For all reason, this was a very good choice for her, and in reality, the only one. Could she find herself living with Gilchrist’s unpredictable nature though? They were on good terms now, but that seemed to shift and change so much between them.

  Her greatest fear was that though he was now doing what he thought was gentlemanly and right, he would later come to resent her for it. She wasn’t entirely sure if she would be willing to marry a man solely for her own benefit.

  “If I said yes,” Lady Abigail said and then paused to see if Gilchrist would follow. He gave a soft smile and began again to meet her step for step.

  “If I said yes,” she repeated, “you must promise to never hate me?”

  Gilchrist stopped her again and turned her to face him. He looked down at her with all the love and affection of his heart. This woman would give her life to the beast before her to save her family’s reputation and good name, and all her concern was that he didn’t resent her later for it.

  He reached up and gently cupped both her elbows, gently drawing her just a step closer to him. He looked down at her; he would have liked to kiss her, but knew she wouldn't want it.

  “I promise that no matter what, I will never hate you.”

  Chapter 30

  With the decision made, quick arrangements were compiled for Lady Abigail’s quiet wedding to the Earl of Gilchrist. A few short weeks passed with the necessity of banns being read at Lady Abigail’s country parish.

  It gave time for both the Duke and Duchess of Wintercrest, as well as Lord Gilchrist’s sister and mother to make the journey to Wintercrest Manor for the event. Lady Abigail was just as relieved to have her sister-in-law safely home without further health complications, as the duchess was to be reunited with her children.

  Lady Abigail hoped that the extra weeks would also give her a chance to settle into her new life as wife to the Earl of Gilchrist. This seemed to be a much harder task as he appeared to seclude himself more and more with every family member who arrived at the house. She noticed it the most when his mother came.

  She suspected there were still some deep unresolved issues between the two of them. It saddened her deeply that Gilchrist seemed to stay far away from her, not to mention the pain and discomfort that Lady Gilchrist visibly felt in her son’s presence.

  The twins, however, seemed to seek out Gilchrist just as much as Lady Abigail. They were fascinated by the man. Lady Abigail wasn’t entirely sure if Gilchrist was bothered by the children's attention or not.

  Gilchrist was always polite to them and did his best to answer their barrage of questions when they did seek him out, but at the same time, he didn’t seem very happy and somewhat uncomfortable at their big eyes studying his every feature.

  Isabella looked to have just barely made it home in time. The guilt that Lady Abigail felt in knowing that she may have caused the early arrival of the baby was eating her alive. She did everything she could imagine to help the duchess in the household duties and see to her comfort.

  Between the happy preparations and the work needed to keep the house running while Isabella rested and prepared for the arrival of her new child, Lady Abigail had little time to hunt down Gilchrist as the twins seemed to have.

  Before she even realized it the day of her wedding came, and she had not spoken more than a handful of words to her intended. She was still trying to reconcile with the idea that she was to be married and that the man who would be her husband was Colton Frasier, Earl of Gilchrist.

  The culmination of all her interactions with the earl made Lady Abigail wonder if she should be happy and excited or dreading the day. Either way, however, she had no choice in it. The matter was set, she had agreed to the terms, and was determined to do her best to see the consequences through.

  She dressed that morning with the help of her lady's maid in a simple cream dress and decorated her hair with dried pink roses. Her mother was of course against this since she was sure that pink strongly clashed with her rust-colored hair, but she cared not. She loved the smell that the dried flowers gave and thought it might give her some courage with every deep breath.

  She was taken to the small county chapel sponsored by her brother in the family carriage. She wondered if this would be the last time she would ride in the familiar vehicle. Through her future mother-in-law, Lady Abigail was informed that Cumberton Park was now suited to the arrival of its master and new bride. They would be leaving the day after the wedding for what would be Lady Abigail’s new home.

  She took solace in the knowledge that the country seat of her betrothed was only one day’s carriage ride from her own. She reminded herself often if things went sour between herself and the earl, she could always return home. Her family would certainly welcome her back, at least she hoped so.

  And then there was also the information that Gilchrist had given her previously about traveling to America. Was he still making preparations to do so? She shuddered at the thought of being left all alone in a new land so far from any connections she had.

  Her carriage stopped with a hard jolt. She rode along with her brother. No words had yet passed between the pair. Isabella, who had greatly wished to come, was forced to stay in bed by her well-meaning husband. Lady Abigail couldn’t blame him for the loss of her comfort, though. Is
abella was in considerable discomfort and soon to have the child, quite possibly before Lady Abigail left the manor house.

  “I know you might not have wished this,” the duke said nervously, "but I promise you I wouldn’t have recommended such a situation if I wasn’t completely assured that Gilchrist would be a good husband to you.”

  “I know,” Lady Abigail said softly. She was such a jumble of emotions at that moment, it was hard to explain let alone comfort the duke.

  He patted her hand gently as they made their way into the chapel.

  “Lord Gilchrist is making a great sacrifice of his own happiness on my behalf. I could not be more grateful to him,” Lady Abigail finally said softly.

  “It is a great sacrifice to you both,” he replied.

  The gravity of his words hung in the air as they made their way into the chapel. Lady Abigail still had not yet decided if she would make the sacrifice that her brother spoke of and the soon to be Dowager Countess Gilchrist hoped for.

  She did her best to focus on the room alone as they made their way to the man and reverend waiting at the front of the pews. She had attended this chapel her whole life, and was even baptized in its font as a baby.

  She noticed that small bunches of wildflowers decorated the edges of each pew. The fragrance mixed with her own dried roses, sending a sweet perfume into the air. She was grateful for its relaxing effect. She studied the stone walk in front of her and listened to the sound of her feet clicking.

  She could feel Gilchrist’s eyes on her though she refused to look back. The duke's words hung heavy in her mind, and she feared her thoughts would betray her if she met his gaze.

  Finally, she found herself standing across from the earl. He had positioned himself so that he was slightly turned, showing his good side for the most part to both her and the reverend. The preacher was the same man whom she had listened to for as long as she could remember.

  He was a quiet, rather dull man. She supposed it was how all vicars meant to behave but that didn’t mean she had ever particularly liked him. She did her best to keep her eyes focused on the preacher however as vows were exchanged.

  Lady Abigail’s heart thumped with nerves at the encroaching end of the service. Would she be told to kiss her now husband? Was she willing to do so? She didn’t so much fear Gilchrist or feel disgusted by his deformity, but more worried about her own abilities.

  It was right that she did care for him, and indeed cherished the friendship they shared when they were on good terms. At the same time, she couldn’t say she loved him, nor thought she would have ever been resolved in marrying a man she didn’t have such passionate emotions for.

  “You may now kiss your bride,” the reverend said in a very droll manner.

  For the first time Lady Abigail, now the Countess of Gilchrist, lifted her eyes to meet her husband’s. He was watching her intently, and she wondered if he had been trying to catch her eyes this whole time.

  His blue eyes seemed to show much darker at that moment as they filled with pity on her. She hesitated to take that small step forward to close the gap between the two of them. The small space was packed full of words unspoken between the two.

  Finally, Gilchrist let his eyes drift down to her hands placed at her side. Reaching over, he took one with his right hand. She could feel the weight of the moment shoot through their touch. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed it ever so gently.

  Barely, she could make out the subtle difference between the right side of his mouth and left. Strangely, the left's scar tissue that crept in on his lips seemed soft and almost delicate. Lady Abigail had expected it to be coarse and dried.

  Instead of releasing her hand, he turned to face the small group in the pews and placed her arm snugly in the crook of his own. Reverent cheers and congratulations came through the crowd.

  Abigail stopped at each guest to receive their words of kindness.

  “I am so happy to have you as a sister now,” Lady Louisa said as they embraced. “I do wish you would return with us to London,” she added.

  “They will need some time alone to get to know each other better,” the Dowager Countess responded quickly.

  Abigail wanted to correct her mother-in-law. She was sure that the Earl of Gilchrist’s decision to return to his country seat had little to do with getting to know his new bride and more to do with his removal from the ton.

  Chapter 31

  Abigail sat before the mirror brushing her already untangled hair for the third time. She didn’t know what else to do. Was her new husband going to come to her room? Did she even want him to do so?

  Her lady’s maid had insisted she wear the new nightgown that her mother had requested be made for her. It was made of the lightest sheen material she had ever seen in her life. Though she had accepted the garment from her mother, she had never actually thought she would be wearing it.

  A soft knock on her door distracted her from the thought that plagued her mind. She did her best to smooth out the fabric out of habit, then decided to add a silken cover over her shoulders to at least downplay the nightgown.

  “Come in,” she said, standing.

  She was not a shy type, but at that moment she was feeling very demure. Gilchrist entered the room and closed the door softly behind him. He was still fully dressed in his exquisite black jacket and matching pantaloons from earlier at the church.

  Neither had spoken much to the other since that moment next to each other in the chapel. Abigail had barely been able to meet his gaze, though she was sure that his eyes had never left hers.

  He came to sit on the bed without speaking a word as Abigail stood and waited. She supposed at that moment he intended on making this marriage as valid as any other. He took one long boot off and then the other. She could hear the strain as he worked the boot on his left side.

  Though Gilchrist hadn’t used his cane for some time, the pressure of a whole day on his weakened limb came with a toll. Though he had tried to gauge his new wife’s feelings on the entire situation, she seemed to avoid even the meeting of his eyes at every turn.

  “I thought we might talk a little,” Gilchrist said, patting the spot on the bed next to him.

  “Talk?” Lady Abigail’s eyebrows rose in question.

  “Yes,” he said with a soft laugh. “I already promised I wouldn’t ask more of you than you are willing to give. I’m afraid that to ensure the validity of the union we must spend this night together."

  "I assure you, I will be a gentleman about it, however, and take my place by the hearth,” he added, motioning to the small fire already crackling away.

  Lady Abigail hesitated a moment longer before taking the few steps across the room and sitting next to her husband.

  “You know,” he said with a playful tone, “I think this is the quietest I have ever seen you. You scarcely spoke more than five words at dinner.”

  “It was only that I couldn’t seem to get a word in with the twins there,” she retorted.

  Usually, the twins took their meals with the governess and nanny before joining the family in the evening when guests weren’t present. As a special treat, however, they were welcome to join the family that evening for the wedding dinner.

  “Yes, they did have quite a lot to say,” he responded a bit absentmindedly.

  Lady Abigail didn’t have to ask to know that he was not fond of the attention they gave to him. She feared he saw it as a gross mortification, but it was only innocent interest on their part.

  “They were just excited that they could now call you uncle,” she tried to explain.

  She was at least satisfied in knowing that her choice of a husband had been heartily accepted by every single member of her family. She was sure that would have never been the case if Heshing's plans had come to fruition. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought that she could have been spending her wedding night in his company instead of Gilchrist’s.

  She looked over at him with new eyes at that moment. Of course,
there had been reasons on his part for agreeing to the union, but she found a whole new reason to be happy with it.

  “Do you think you will mind coming to Cumberton Park? I didn’t think about it till Louisa said as much. Perhaps you would rather return to London with them?”

  For some reason, Abigail didn’t like the thought of her husband staying in his country estate all alone. She felt it was a duty of hers to at least accompany him for the first portion of his time there.

  “I don’t mind it at all. In fact, I am curious to see the place.”

  “I must confess I am a little curious myself. Hopefully, it will be to your liking. Of course, as lady of the house, you are free to change things as you see fit,” Gilchrist seemed to ramble off.

  She smiled at her husband; perhaps he was just as uncomfortable with this night’s situation as she was.

  “Lady of the house,” she said out loud. “It seems a little strange to think of myself as such.”

  “Well, you are,” he responded without hesitation. “The Countess of Gilchrist and with that title comes my protection and home. It is yours now as it is mine.”

  “But you always knew such a thing would be yours,” Lady Gilchrist said, finding comfort in their conversation.

  “Yes,” he responded, leaning back on his arms. “I suppose so. Didn’t you also always assume you would be the lady of some house?”

  “No,” Lady Gilchrist said in honesty. “I enjoyed the season and what came with it as a young lady. But that being said, I never made a marriage, or even marriage to a peer, a priority for myself.”

  “Then what was your priority?” he asked, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

  “I suppose, just to have happiness in life. If that meant a husband, then all the better. If not, I was content with being a sister and aunt.”