He laughed, this time with a bit of mirth behind it. “That we do,” he replied, offering his arm. “The question is, then, my dear fiancée, what shall we do?”
They began the walk back to the castle, their steps short to slow their return. Abigail could not help but feel comfort at his side. “We both know we have strength when we are together,” she said. “I think we should stand together as one and speak what is on our hearts and minds.”
When they arrived at the front door, he stopped and looked down at her. “What shall I say?” he asked. “I do not know what words to speak.”
“Tell them what we want.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Know I will stand beside you, as your friend and as your future wife.” That strange feeling returned as she spoke of becoming his wife, this time causing her to smile, which in turn made him smile.
“Indeed,” he replied. “My wife.”
Then, they entered the foyer and made their way to the parlor to finally set out their demands and put an end to the tyranny of their parents.
Or so they hoped.
Chapter Nine
As Richard stepped into the parlor with Abigail at his side, he immediately recognized two things. The first, the room was filled with silence. The second, not a single person wore a smile on his or her face.
The eyes of his mother, however, that bore into him, caused him to start. It was the same look of disappointment which he had seen from her over the years. Yet, though his heart threatened to beat out of his chest and his mouth was as dry as an empty riverbed, he found strength in the woman beside him, the woman he loved. He still needed the strength and courage to tell her so, but he had to take one step at a time. By taking a stand this very night, perhaps his mother would see him in a different light, see him as the Duke he was.
“I have something important to say,” he announced. He was surprised at the firmness in his voice, for his head felt light, as if it had filled with air. “It is imperative that my wishes be heard.”
“Why, yes, Your Grace,” Lady Linton said, her hands folded in her lap. “I shall adhere to any request you make.” Lord Linton nodded his agreement, and Richard turned to his mother.
“You look unwell, my son,” she said. Then she patted the seat beside her on the sofa. “Please, take a seat.”
“I am well,” he said. When he turned to look at Abigail, the lightheadedness disappeared. “In fact, I have never felt better.” The manner in which Abigail smiled ignited passion and desire in him. A burning to be a man, the husband on whom she could place her concerns. “It is about the wedding.”
The older women gasped, and Lord Linton leaned back into the chair, but none made a reply, for which Richard was glad. It was hard to tell what terrible news they expected to hear, but for a moment he almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
“I have decided that the ceremony will take place the Saturday next as originally planned.”
This ignited an instant response from all parties.
“I do not understand,” his mother said with a frown. She went to stand, but Richard raised his hand to stop her. This time her reaction was that much more intense, for her jaw dropped and she raised a hand to her breast dramatically. “What has come over you?” she asked.
“I have come to realize that I am the Duke, and more importantly, the soon-to-be husband of the woman I love. You will invite only a few guests as I requested. Please limit them to no more than half a dozen apiece.” A cold bead of sweat ran down the back of his neck as he considered that this was the first time he had ever stood up to his mother. It was the most wondrous of feelings, and he regretted not having done it sooner. How strange that he was this forceful on many occasions without thinking twice when conducting negotiations for business, and yet he could not be as steadfast when dealing with his mother!
“I will respect your wishes, Your Grace,” Lady Linton said. She had a smugness to her voice that made Richard suspicious.
“Not because you care!” Richard’s mother shouted as she stood from her seat. “So long as your daughter marries my son so she can have his wealth. That is your only objective with this marriage.”
Abigail’s mother reddened. “Well, I never!”
Anger replaced Richard’s newfound joy. “Mother!” he admonished. “You will apologize to Lady Linton at once.”
His mother whipped around, and he would have backed down if Abigail had not rested her hand on his arm once again. It was as if her strength flowed into him giving him the power, yet again, to stand tall. “Please do not embarrass yourself any further.” The words came out a hiss of anger.
His mother shook her head as though her ears were clogged, her eyes wide with anger. However, much to Richard’s surprise, she did not argue with him. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned to Lady Linton. “My apologies. It seems the wine has caused my thoughts to take on a mind of their own.”
Lady Linton stood. “I accept your apology,” she said warmly. “I can assure you it is because my daughter loves your son that I wish them to marry. There is no other reason.”
Richard’s mother turned to Abigail, and Richard did not miss how her eyes studied his fiancée. “Do you love him?” she asked.
The air seemed to congeal at that moment and time seemed to stand still as Richard awaited her answer. He had waited so long to hear the words, perhaps his mind had, in all actuality, played tricks on him and she had not really hesitated at all.
“It is true,” she replied. “I have, and always will, love him.”
The words Abigail spoke were the sweetest he had ever heard! She truly did love him as he loved her! How fortunate he was to have her by his side, for if she had not lent him the strength he needed to speak his mind, she might not have been given the opportunity to share her heart.
His mother sighed. “We shall respect your wishes, then.”
“One more thing, Mother,” Richard said, knowing that perhaps his courage would not be as strong in an hour from now. “I have spoken to Abigail about buying you a gift for our wedding, and she has agreed.” He felt Abigail tense beside him but ignored it, for he knew she would approve once she learned this plan that had just come to mind.
“A gift? For me?” His mother retook her seat, as did Lady Linton. “What gift is that?”
Abigail scrunched her brow, and with a smile, he tapped his two fingers on his thigh. When she saw the signal, she nodded. She trusted him.
“A most beautiful home not far from here,” he said and then turned to Abigail. It was as though their hearts and minds were becoming one, for Abigail spoke as if the conversation of such a gift had taken place.
“Your son has spoken so highly of you,” she said with a diffident nod, “and that you have given him such strength over the years. He asked my thoughts about a home that would be private enough for you and your servants, yet grand enough for the parties we know you would want to host. I ask humbly that I may be invited to at least one of your parties, for the Ladies of the ton speak so highly of them.”
It had been many years since Richard his seen such a broad smile on his mother’s face, and he had to blink twice to assure himself of what he saw.
“Richard had requested that I stay here, of course,” his mother said regally. “However, I believe a new home is in order to allow you to be the mistress of Helmsford Castle. Therefore, I accept this wonderful gift.” She jutted her chin and added, “I believe I can be cordial throughout this important occasion.”
“As can I,” Lady Linton agreed. “This is to be a happy event! We have so much to celebrate!”
As Lady Linton congratulated his mother, Richard looked over at his bride-to-be. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as their eyes met. Together, they had worked through their first problem, and it had worked out well. But more importantly, she had told everyone that she loved him. In fact, according to her, she always had and always would, and he could not have asked for any greater wedding gift.
***
&nbs
p; As a footman poured his guests another glass of wine, Richard found himself amazed at how well the evening was going. Abigail’s parents, as well as his own mother, now seemed engrossed not in preparations for the wedding but rather in the new home his mother would receive once the wedding was completed. He had considered offering her a home before, but tonight seemed the appropriate time to announce such a gift as a means of freeing him from the hold she had on him. Yet, it would no longer be his home alone. It would belong to both him and Abigail, and it would be a wonderful home together.
He turned to his bride-to-be, who sipped at her wine, and a new thought occurred to him. He went to tell his guests to excuse him for a moment, but they were so engrossed in their conversation, he did not wish to interrupt. Therefore, he motioned toward the door, and Abigail followed him out into the hallway lit by several sconces along the walls.
“You did it!” Abigail said, her smile beaming as they began the long walk down the corridor. “I must admit, I have never been prouder of you than I am at this moment.”
He laughed. “Not even when I climbed that tree for you when we were eleven?” he asked, feigning insult. “Or when I asked you to watch me as I rode my horse?”
“Yes, even more than those times,” Abigail said with a laugh that matched his own.
He led her to a room down the hallway, and it was not until they entered the room that Abigail asked, “What is this?”
He lit the candles by the door and carried the holder to the center of the room. It had large windows facing the south where they would allow in more light and the walls had been painted white. “This is to be your room, for your painting. You may decorate it to your taste upon return from our honeymoon. I do hope you like it.”
“It is a beautiful room,” Abigail said with awe. “The windows will allow the sunlight to brighten the room, and with such a lovely view of the gardens, I will never be at a loss for things to paint.” She turned and looked up at him. “Thank you.”
He returned her smile and took her hands in his. “Thank you, Abigail,” he said. “Tonight, you showed me something, something very important.”
“And what was that?” she asked curiously.
“That your strength is what I have been missing in my life,” he replied, his heart full of love for the woman standing before him. “It is from that strength I was able to say what I must tonight.”
“Richard,” she said, her voice low, “it is kind of you, but I cannot accept praise for what you did on your own. I am proud of you regardless.”
He nodded as a familiar feeling in his heart rose to the surface. “There is something more I wish to tell you.” She gave a faint nod, and he summoned the remainder of his courage. “Earlier, you spoke of having loved me in the past and will continue to do so in the future…”
She looked down at the floor. “Oh.”
“That is something I have felt, as well,” he said, his excitement getting the better of him. “You see, Abigail, I have always loved you. First as a dear friend and then as something more. Yes.” He chuckled. “I was a coward not able to speak of what was on my heart, and after my father’s passing, I felt as though I was as lost as a ship in a sea of sorrow. Yet, when I saw you at the party, your old signal of needing rescue, well, it has all come together perfectly, has it not?”
Her mouth fell open, and he suspected her joy was so great she could not speak, though she seemed to try.
He had to relieve her of that stress. “Do not worry,” he said, “for I know I have waited for a long time to say those words. Know that I do love you, Abigail Linton, and as you said, I will love you forever.”
“Richard.” Her voice sounded a near croak. “I think you may have…”
“Spoken from my heart,” he finished for her as he took a step closer, both her hands clasped in his at his chest. “Indeed, I have.”
He leaned over and kissed her and was shocked to find her lips not as welcoming as he had expected. His mind raced with worry, and then he realized that maybe the kiss had been much too forward. She must have been lost in his words of love for her, and how could she not have been?
Therefore, he broke the kiss and took the candle holder in hand. “Come. We will return to our families lest they drink us out of our fortune.”
Abigail nodded, though she said nothing. He understood, for their future had appeared to be slipping through their hands, yet, because of his courage, everything was now coming together as it should be. Before them lay their lives, united by their words of love, a bond that could never be broken. And that, he knew, was as eternal as his love for her.
Chapter Ten
Abigail and her parents had arrived at Helmsford Castle the evening before the ceremony was to take place. She had not been given an opportunity to see what had been put into place as far as decorations were concerned, for a bath had been drawn immediately upon her arrival so she would have dry hair and smell of lavender in the morning. Once her hair was toweled dry, her mother had insisted she go straight to bed so she would be well-rested.
“We cannot have the bride swaying on her feet from exhaustion, now can we?” her mother had demanded, though the woman had gone downstairs to confer with the Dowager Duchess until the late hours.
Conferring had been the word her mother had used, but Abigail worried much more than conferring had occurred. Well, that was out of her hands, and as long as she did not have to endure their incessant arguing, they could do what they wanted. Plus, had they not agreed to keep things cordial? The thought of the two women following through on that promise was laughable, but Abigail had too much on her mind to allow them to upset her. Her thoughts did that on their own.
Has a week gone by already? she thought as she admired her dress in the mirror. Her mother had taken her immediately to Mrs. Goodfellow to order the wedding dress. The dressmaker had been beside herself with exasperation—well-hidden, of course—at the request to have a wedding dress completed in less than a week. Then the woman had learned that Abigail was to marry the Duke, and she made every allowance she could on such short notice. They had just received the finished item this morning, much to her mother’s ire.
“How are we ever to have you ready in time?” her mother had said, her tone an indication of her irritation. “To think that the dress might have arrived late…”
“But it did not, Mother,” Abigail had assured the woman. Anything to keep her calm. It was hard enough for Abigail to not throw herself on the bed and weep!
The dress was a simple piece—no amount of bullying or bribery could convince the dressmaker a beaded and embroidered gown would be ready in time—but Abigail was pleased with its outcome. Made of flowing lace over white muslin, it had a respectable neckline lined with beads—the few Mrs. Goodfellow would allow on such short notice—and white ribbon on the puffed sleeves. Its high-waisted cut was quite appealing on Abigail, and she would make a point of complimenting the dressmaker upon her return to the shop.
Studying her reflection, she had to pause and remind herself that today was the day of her wedding. The day she was to join as one from this day forth. The vows she would soon take would bind her for the remainder of her life to Richard. Although she had every intention of keeping her word, it saddened her to know that she did not love him as he loved her.
Oh, she had stated as such one week ago; however, she had only done so to ease the suspicions of his mother. Unfortunately, when he had spoken his heart, Abigail had nearly wept. Not out of pity, nor excitement, for though the words were beautiful, Abigail could not return them, not if she was honest with herself. She had not meant to give Richard a false hope, but that was exactly what she had done. She had failed miserably, and now Richard believed they were entering a marriage founded on love and not as a means to appease their parents. In fact, how could one love a person they considered a wonderful friend and nothing more?
Granted, their marriage would not be of the traditional marriage of convenience so many were forced to a
ccept. Indeed, she would gain much by marrying a duke, but her family was not in need. Richard would gain nothing through their marriage beyond gaining a wife. The entire fiasco had begun as a means of escape for the two of them, a way to prevent forced marriages to people for whom they cared not. And now that it was to take place, Abigail felt nothing but regret and remorse, and she had not even said the words as of yet!
Opening her eyes, Abigail decided that she would continue to play the happy wife for Richard. Once they returned from their honeymoon, she would begin her painting and Richard would continue on with whatever business matters occupied his time. They would share in meals, and as she had promised, they would attend various parties together. Though she did not love him as he loved her, she loved him for rescuing her. It was a gesture fitting a story from a book, but she would not break his heart. She swore there before her reflection that if there was one thing in life she would do, it would be to not hurt the man who would give up a chance at love elsewhere to come to her aid. Whatever it took to make him happy she would do.
Her mother placed one final white flower in Abigail’s hair. “There,” she said as she looked Abigail up and down. “It is time.”
Abigail smiled once more at her reflection. “Eliza, you did a marvelous job on my hair,” she said.
The lady’s maid beamed with pride, and Abigail was glad she could make her happy; the woman had always been a treasure. “Thank you, Miss,” she said as she bobbed a curtsy before gasping. “I’ll have to call you Your Grace after today!”
This gave Abigail pause. She had told herself numerous times that she would be a duchess, but it never occurred to her that the manner in which people would address her would change. Of course, she knew it would happen, at least in theory; however, to now consider it outright? She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Rescued by the Duke: Delicate Hearts Book 2 Page 7