Saving Lady Abigail: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abby Ayles

  “I would be most honored to stay here with you, Abigail,” he replied.

  A small tingle ran up and down Abigail’s spine at the sound of her name on his lips. She had a secret hope that maybe as they lived together here over the next year, she might convince him to stay by her side permanently. If that meant here at Cumberton Park or in Virginia, she cared not.

  They spent the next few weeks side by side each day as they acquired and then began to work in conjunction with the new vicar to see the needs of the community met.

  The vicar was a Mr. Fitzwilliams. He was on the younger side. Abigail was happy with it. His youth seemed to give him the energy needed to accomplish the many tasks before them. Abigail spent much of her time now walking the village with Mr. Fitzwilliams and meeting with the various community members in need.

  She so wished that Colton would accompany them to the village, but he always refused her requests. She understood why Colton didn’t want to leave the safety of their home. It was clear that the members of the village had a morbid curiosity over him. She feared that his unwillingness to show his face would only let their fears and superstitions take over them.

  Colton wasn’t entirely happy to see the new vicar was a youthful, handsome gentleman. He felt even less pleased about the prospect of his wife spending so much time in his charming company. He had to continually remind himself that theirs was a marriage of practicality and nothing more in Abigail’s eyes.

  “I’d forgotten something,” Abigail said one night as they sat together in the library after dinner.

  Colton was going over plans for new cottages to replace some of the most dilapidated. Abigail for her part was planning a dinner party to host Sir Blanchard.

  Colton didn’t relish the idea of having the man back in his home, especially after hearing how he treated his workers, but a good relationship would be needed between the two men if Colton had any hope of improving the workers’ standard of living.

  Abigail reached down into a small basket at her side. She pulled out a glass jar and passed it across to him.

  “I got it that first time I went to the village. Mr. Smith, the man at the general store, explained that it is used for pain and soreness. I thought you might like it for your leg,” Abigail added.

  “I completely forgot about it once we started making plans for the village. But today, Mrs. Smith, his wife who makes the cream, gave me a second jar thinking I had finished with the first.”

  Colton reached across the small space between their two chairs and took the item from her. He let his fingers linger for just a second on top of hers.

  “Thank you. I didn’t realize you noticed,” Colton said softly.

  “Of course I did, why wouldn’t I?” Abigail asked, surprised at his words.

  Over the last few weeks as Abigail had worked closely with her husband it was as if they were working on mittens all over again. She had enjoyed his company and friendship so much in these last weeks. More than that, she began to feel for him more than just affection and friendship.

  With every teasing word that slipped from Colton’s lips she found herself secretly hoping he meant them. Every touch he gave to her, no matter how short or subtle, would send a euphoric chill up and down her body. She secretly wanted to be closer to him.

  He still had that hard wall up around him. Abigail understood he had gone through a traumatic experience, but she had a feeling that his need to keep all others out had less to do with the act of scarring his face or even the scars he now was burdened with. She knew there was still more to this story that he had yet to open up to her about.

  She was determined to not only find a way into his heart but also through that impenetrable barrier that he kept so tightly guarded around himself. Though she was happy that he had decided to stay the year and help restore Cumberton Park to its former glory, she was more pleased with the fact that it would mean a whole year together before he would leave her. Perhaps in that time, she would convince him to do otherwise.

  Chapter 36

  The weeks were going wonderfully in Abigail’s eyes. Not only was she getting along with Colton, she felt they were also already making a big difference to many lives. Tonight was the night that she had been preparing for.

  Sir Blanchard and his wife had accepted their invitation and would be joining them and the Reverend Mr. Fitzwilliams for dinner tonight. It was their wish that conversations could turn to making working conditions better for all those involved.

  “Lady Gilchrist, it is wonderful to make your acquaintance finally,” Sir Blanchard said in greeting as he came into the drawing room that night.

  She took the briefest of moments to size up the gentleman as well as his wife. They were most likely her mother's age, and Sir Blanchard was almost entirely gray of hair. He surprisingly wore no wig, which was common among the young portion of society but not for someone of his age.

  His silk words and the fact that he seemed to stay up to date in the fashion of his clothes and style immediately told Abigail that society was essential to the man.

  Mrs. Blanchard didn’t say any words but merely looked around the house with a downcast look on her face.

  “I must confess,” Sir Blanchard continued, “that Mrs. Blanchard has wondered for some time what the inside of this estate looked like. We quite thought we would never see the place open again.”

  “My father was never one for country life,” Colton said in response, “But I find it to be very relaxing.”

  “Something I am sure you are in great need of after your time serving the King. You certainly gave more than I would ever be willing to do,” he added with a wink.

  Though it was said in a joking fashion, there was no laughter in the room behind it. Colton’s condition resulting from the war was not a laughing matter to him.

  Instead, Colton quietly cleared his throat and turned to greet Mrs. Blanchard. Abigail decided in that instant that, where she might have held back judgment before, she now had her verdict on the man.

  The dinner was a tedious affair. Regularly Mr. Fitzwilliams found opportunities to bring up the livings of Sir Blanchard's employees and again and again Blanchard found reasons to wave them off.

  “Yes, it is most unfortunate that I cannot give more,” Sir Blanchard said as if he ran a charity. “But the copper trade is not what it used to be. I have seven mines dotting these lands. Each one seems to produce less and less as the years go by. Now that relations are beginning to be reformed between the Crown and the colonies I fear we will lose a great handle on the market.”

  “Surely that doesn’t prevent you from showing Christian goodwill to your fellow men?” Mr. Fitzwilliams retorted.

  Abigail was seated on the sofa in the large drawing room next to her husband. Mrs. Blanchard hadn’t said more than a handful of words and those spoken were so quiet Abigail wasn’t sure she had even heard them right.

  She had given up all hope of finding a connection with the lady and settled instead on listening to the gentlemen’s strained but adequately spoken discussion. Colton for his part interjected and mediated between the other two between sips of his glass of sherry.

  “I promise you, vicar,” Sir Blanchard said, now feeling rather exasperated by the constant barrage from the preacher, “I do my Christian duty by providing these people with means to support their families.”

  “And what of the twenty-six men removed from their jobs over the last year alone? Have you done your Christian duty by them?”

  “As I said there have been many setbacks as of recently and sadly my employment may reflect that. It is strange you claim to be such an authority on my business when you, yourself, have been here such a short while?” Sir Blanchard spat back.

  Abigail feared that things were starting to get out of control. She looked over at Colton who smiled down at her assuringly before standing to intercede yet again.

  Abigail couldn’t help but feel some pride in watching Colton come to stand and walk so smoothly.
Usually this late at night it was a struggle for him to do either. She was sure it was the salve she had given him.

  Colton had already requested the second jar, having finished off the first. Not only did he seem to move more smoothly, but she was also sure it improved his spirits as well.

  “I think what Mr. Fitzwilliams is trying to explain is that people in your employment find themselves unsure if they will have secure employment in the future. Perhaps if there was a way to reassure them they would be more efficient at their work.”

  “I thank you for your advice, Lord Gilchrist. You will forgive me, but I believe I know my business better than you do.”

  “Of course, Sir Blanchard. I only mean to give suggestions to see to the needs of those in my district seat. I would not fulfill my duty if I did otherwise.”

  Though no agreements had been made that night, Colton was hopeful that over time, with the knowledge that Colton would be there to oversee how Sir Blanchard treated the people of the area, things would improve.

  Abigail was less convinced. She made her distaste for the man known once all the guests had retired to their own homes for the night.

  “Fitzwilliams was trying so hard to give him gentle counsel, and Sir Blanchard seemed to just walk all over him. I fear we may have just made things worse and not better.”

  “I don’t think that is true,” Colton said, happy to see Abigail return to her seat next to him on the sofa instead of the one across from him, as she usually did.

  “Sir. Blanchard knows that I am here now and that I will keep an eye on him. I can influence his dying trade in ways he will not like if he doesn’t adhere to my request.”

  “Such as what?” Abigail asked, surprised.

  “Regulations on trade to start. The House of Lords doesn't take much convincing when it comes to adding regulating taxation,” he added.

  “And you think that would help?”

  “I think the knowledge that I am here and displeased with his actions is enough for him to reform before I take those drastic measures.”

  “You seem to be well versed in politics like this. I find it all to be slightly slimy,” Abigail said with a little shiver.

  “I took my commission to seek adventure. Instead, I got a proper education in the politics of our world. Though my father may not have wished me to go, I am sure that my time spent in military service prepared me to be the Earl of Gilchrist more than anything else in the world could have.”

  “He was not happy you went then? I remember Isabella saying he supported the decision.”

  “Well, he did for the sake of my mother. She can have such a weak constitution at times. He did his best to talk me out of it, though. If only I had listened," Colton added with a scoff.

  Abigail thought he was referring to his pain and scarring. She had no way of knowing the guilt that dug deep into the core of him. He was sure if he had just listened to his father, his father would still be alive.

  “I can see it has changed you much from the man that I once heard stories of. That being said,” Abigail continued, “I am sure I much prefer the person you are now to the ghost of the one you used to be.”

  Colton raised a blonde brow to his wife as he looked down at her. He couldn’t believe that she would actually prefer the scarred mess he was now to the possibility of being married to a regular peer of the realm.

  “Yes, well I suppose if I was not the man I am now,” he said waving at the left side of his face, “then we would have never come to Cumberton Park, and you would have never had the acquaintance of the charming vicar.”

  Abigail stared at him, surprised at his words.

  “Mr. Fitzwilliams?” she stammered out.

  “Yes. You two seem to be very good friends,” Colton said, trying but failing to hide his jealousy.

  “Colton, do you think there is something between the preacher and myself? How could you possibly think that?”

  “You are a young and attractive girl; he is a charming man, why wouldn’t you?”

  “Because I am married to you, and he is a preacher!” Abigail said, still holding on to the fact that he had called her attractive and was clearly jealous.

  She took a steadying breath to hide her racing heart at the thought of his jealousy. “You have nothing to fear. I made my promise to be devoted to you.”

  Abigail hesitated for just a second before reaching her hand out to him. Colton thought so little of himself that he actually thought that she was willing to look elsewhere for happiness. She slipped her hand into his.

  Colton looked over at Abigail, surprised by her initiation of the touch. He could tell she was nervous but also saw something else in her movement. He couldn't believe she might actually feel something for him.

  “Abigail, I have no illusions about how this marriage was formed.”

  Abigail nodded her head, “I know we both had our own reasons for why we chose to marry. Even before that, I can’t really say we always got along,” she added with a smile. “But I can promise you there is no one else I would rather be with.”

  Colton looked down at their intertwined hands, relishing the feeling of her touch. She was risking everything at that moment to tell him how she felt about him. He could see from her nervous eyes; she had no idea that his feelings for her had run more profound and much longer than their union.

  “I have cared for you,” he said in honesty as he turned her hand in his, “since long before I asked you to marry me.”

  “You have?” Abigail asked, surprised and relieved at the same time.

  Colton gave a soft laugh as he turned in his seat to face her head-on. He reached his hand up to brush along Abigail’s cheek. He had wanted to touch her for so long.

  “I never thought you would feel for me anything remotely close to what I feel for you. I was happy just to have your companionship as long as you were willing to stay by my side.”

  Abigail tilted her head up to look deeply into his blue eyes.

  “What if I want to stay by your side for the rest of forever?”

  “I think I would like that,” Colton said, dipping his head low and kissing Abigail softly on the lips.

  Chapter 37

  Abigail lay contentedly next to her husband for the first time since they married. She was happy and comfortable in his arms. She never thought she could have felt so right in all her life.

  Slipping an arm around her husband, she snuggled against him before drifting back to sleep.

  Colton was struggling to see through the fog. No, it wasn’t fog but smoke. It was thick black choking smoke. He could scarcely breathe. He was wandering in the dark heat not really knowing why. All he knew was that he was searching for someone, though he had no idea who.

  Finally, he could see a clearing in the smoke before him. Colton made his way forward, desperate for the fresh air it would bring. His body felt like it was searing inside and out. Through the smoke, he saw the outline of a figure in the clearing.

  His eyes burned and blurred with tears. It was hard to make the person out. He called out a few times. Whoever it was, maybe they needed help to escape. He hoped that making his way to the clearing and figure would also lead to his way out of this dark, hot place.

  Colton froze in his tracks when he finally reached the small pocket of fresh air and saw the person standing before him.

  It was his father, only not how Colton had ever seen him before. His eyes were sunken in and surrounded by dark circles. His once light- filled face was now drawn and dull. He reached a hand out that looked more skeletal than human.

  “Colton,” a hollow voice called out to him.

  In the blink of an eye, the figure was now standing a hair’s breadth away from him. His father’s arm, previously reaching, now wrapped around him and gripped him tight. Colton struggled against the unearthly strength of his father.

  “Why?” his father said, completely calm though Colton struggled against him. “Why did you do this to me?”

  Colton
summoned all the strength he had and burst from his father’s grip, sending him soaring away and back into the smoke. Colton woke to the sound of his own voice screaming as he sat bolt upright in bed.

  He was drenched in sweat and disoriented. He realized it was not just his voice alone that had screamed. He looked around, remembering what had transpired that night.

  He leaned over the bed, not daring to look at what he was sure he would find there. Sure enough, a stunned Abigail who had been thrown from the bed struggled to untangle herself from the blankets that had followed her.

  “Colton! What happened?” she asked, both shocked and still not fully awake.

  Colton slid from the bed to help Abigail up. He felt so ashamed. Not only had Abigail heard his embarrassing, childish nightmare, but she had also been physically harmed by his actions in it.

  “Abigail, are you alright?” he asked, still breathless from it all. “I am so sorry. I never meant to…I promise I won’t ever let this happen to you again,” Colton struggled to say as he helped unwind her from the fabric.

  “It’s alright, Colton,” she said, coming to a standstill before him.

  Though he was mortified to touch her again, it was plain to see that Abigail was weak at the knees still, so he wrapped a steadying hand around her waist.

  “I should go. I should have never done this,” he waved to the room around him.

  "Go? What are you talking about?” Abigail responded.

  Neither one could see much, and both seemed to be feeling the other in the darkness to check for injuries.

  “Let us return to bed, my love,” she continued. “It was just a bad dream. No harm was done.”

  “No harm?” Colton spat back, pulling her away from him to arm's length. “I could have hurt you. I never wished you to see how broken I truly am. I am so sorry for that. I won't let the dangers of my splintered mind endanger you.”

  She tugged on his hand now and tried to ease him back to the bed. Colton wouldn’t move from his place. This was truly his greatest fear and why he kept himself so far removed from anyone else.