My Brother's Bride

by Rachael Anderson

  She started to walk away, but something within Abby cried out to her.

  “Theo,” she asked, stopping the girl. “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Do you… I mean, are you well cared for?”

  Theo’s tear-filled eyes looked everywhere but at Abby. “I’m well enough. My pa wanted nothin’ to do with me after he’d seen I was increasin’, but a neighbor took pity on me. ’E’s lettin’ me sleep in ‘is barn.”

  “A barn!” Prudence exclaimed in a horrified voice, causing Theo to duck her head in shame.

  Knave took his wife by the arm. “We will wait for you outside, Abby.” Sophia left as well, her expression more sorrowful than horrified. Brigston, on the other hand, remained at Abby’s side, placing a comforting hand against her back.

  “Do you really sleep in a barn?” Abby asked.

  Theo’s bonnet shook when she nodded, looking as though it would fall to pieces any moment. “There’s no room for me in the house, but the barn’s not so bad. The ’ay keeps me warm enough, and cows are good listeners.”

  Abby smiled even as her heart constricted. Judging by the size of the girl’s belly, it wouldn’t be long until her child was born. “How soon until your lying in?”

  Theo shrugged. “I’ve got no way of knowin’. It’s gettin’ harder and harder to breathe, though, so that must mean soon.”

  “I remember thinking the same thing,” said Abby.

  Theo smiled a little, then glanced at the door. “I best be goin’. It’s time to milk the cows.”

  “You have a job then?” Brigston asked.

  She nodded. “I milk and tend to the animals in exchange for food and a place to sleep.”

  “What will you do when the child comes?” he asked.

  Theo looked away. “Give it to another, same as Natty did.”

  Abby had no idea who Natty was or why she’d had to give up her child. But she knew that standing before her was a girl who had been dealt a wicked blow and had been made to suffer even more as a result. Theo hadn’t received an offer of marriage. She hadn’t been blessed with friends like Prudence or Sophia. From the sounds of it, she didn’t even have a mother.

  What would become of her if Abby walked out that door? She didn’t want to think about it.

  “Tell me, Theo,” said Abby. “What sort of work did you do before?”

  “I looked after my siblings, did the washin’ and mendin’, cooked, and cleaned. Ma died a few years back, and I was doin’ her work ’til Pa sent me away.”

  “Now all that work has fallen to your sister?” Brigston guessed.

  She nodded. “Wish I could do somethin’ to ’elp, but Pa won’t ’ear of it. Suzie comes to visit me when she can. She even brought an old quilt for when the babe comes.”

  Suzie must be Theo’s younger sister. Abby was slowly piecing together the tragedy that had become this girl’s life—all because of one selfish, dishonorable man. Abby hoped he’d rot in prison for a good, long while.

  “Theo, I’ve been looking for a woman with your skills,” said Abby. “I will be acquiring a cottage of my own soon, and I’ll be in need of a maid of all work. I think you’d suit perfectly.”

  Theo looked down at her round belly then back to Abby, staring at her as though she’d gone daft.

  Abby smiled. “You wouldn’t be expected to start until after your lying in, of course. In the meantime, I will put you up at the inn and see that you are looked after by the local doctor. Once the child arrives, we will find it a good home. We can even try to find one near the cottage, if you’d like to be nearby.”

  Theo’s eyes grew wide. “Do you mean it, milady?”

  “I do.”

  Tears sparkled in Theo’s eyes, along with something else—hope, the sort of hope that wouldn’t fall prey to disappointment. Abby would see to that.

  Theo wiped at her eyes. “I ’eard the parson and ’is wife ’ave been wantin’ a child somethin’ desperate. The entire parish’s been prayin’ for them, sayin’ they’re deservin’ of good fortune. Do you think they’d want the child?”

  Abby thought of Anne, how difficult it would have been to give her up, and how lucky she’d been not to have to make that choice. Theo, on the other hand, was not as lucky, but instead of feeling sorry for herself, she wanted to give her child a better life.

  If Abby had any doubts about helping this girl, they diminished in an instant. “I’m sure they’ll treasure your child as their own.”

  Theo’s shoulders straightened a little, as though a burden had been lifted. Abby knew that look well. She reached out and touched Theo’s shoulder. “Come. Let’s get you settled at the inn and summon that doctor. We can also send word to your sister and neighbor about your change in circumstances.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say,” Theo said.

  “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “Oh, but I do. Thank you ever so much, milady.”

  Abby extended the thanks to Brigston with a smile, her heart warm and full. If it wasn’t for his interference and generosity with her annuity, William Penroth would still be free and Theo would be made to deliver her baby among the cows. If she wasn’t sure she’d forgiven him before, she was now.

  SOMETHING ODD IS afoot, thought Abby when Sophia and Prudence exchanged another secretive smile. The three women were in Prudence’s carriage, jostling through a London street with rain pouring overhead and streaking down the panes of the small windows. Abby felt bad for the coachman, whose only protection was a hat and heavy coat, but Sophia and Prudence had insisted on a drive to combat the dreariness of the day, or so they said. They both appeared too happy for Abby to truly believe it.

  The carriage jolted to a stop, and Prudence pressed her nose to the window excitedly. “Here we are,” she announced.

  Abby looked through the rain-splattered window to see an unfamiliar townhouse. “I wasn’t aware we had a destination.”

  “We always have a destination,” said Prudence.

  “You made no mention of that before. You only said it was too dreary to stay at home and we should take a drive instead.”

  “And so we have.”

  Abby rolled her eyes and looked to Sophia for help instead. “Would you be kind enough to enlighten me, Soph? I don’t believe I have ever been to this house before.”

  Sophia opened her mouth to say something, but her sister cut her off. “That is for us to know and you to find out.”

  Sophia only shrugged and smiled.

  The coachman pulled open the door, and rain rushed in, splattering Abby’s skirts and the floor of the coach. He carried an umbrella but didn’t appear nearly as cheerful as Prudence.

  “I’ll take you up first, Lady Jasper,” he said, holding a hand out to Abby.

  Bless your soul, Abby thought as she climbed from the carriage and hurried up the steps. A tall and lanky man she assumed was the butler held the door open and ushered her quickly inside. She was shaking some of the rain from her skirts when the door closed behind her. She turned to find the butler standing like a guard in front of it.

  “I can collect your coat and gloves if you wish, my lady,” he said.

  Abby stared at him in surprise. “I am not alone. My friends have accompanied me and will be along any moment.”

  Rather than open the door as she expected him to do, he stepped past her. “If you’ll just follow me, my lady.”

  Abby didn’t follow. Instead, she pulled open the door herself, only to gape at the empty street below. Prudence and Sophia had left her? What the devil was going on? Where was she?

  She spun around to face the butler. “Tell me who employs you, sir.”

  “If you’ll be good enough to give me your damp outer garments, I will take you to him.”

  How very cryptic. Abby looked at the man warily, finally concluding that if her friends had orchestrated this, there was nothing to fear. Ever so slowly, she removed her pelisse and gloves, then handed over her bonne
t as well. A maid appeared, and the butler passed the garments to her.

  Abby looked around, trying to find something familiar, but she was certain she’d never stood in this house before. Pristine white marble floors and stained wooden walls encased her. It was curiosity and curiosity alone that motivated her to follow the butler.

  Her footsteps echoed in the hall, mingling with the eerie sound of pounding rain. The butler stopped next to an open door, gesturing for her to enter.

  It was a ballroom.

  She walked in slowly, cautiously, curiously—at least until she spied Brigston leaning casually against a wall not far from her, looking so handsome in a dark green waistcoat and tan breeches. He twirled a shuttlecock in one hand while two rackets lay at his feet.

  Abby’s pulse quickened. She looked from him to the rain-splattered windows beyond, recalling the day she last played shuttlecock with him at Oakley. In an instant, the house took on a wonderful air of familiarity.

  She stared pointedly at the rackets at his feet. “You cannot be serious,” she said.

  “Oh, but I am.” He pushed away from the wall and strolled towards her. As he did so, a giddy sensation spread through her stomach. She tried her best to keep her heart from hammering and her lips from twitching, but failed.

  “I’ve already won and you lost, remember?” she said. “You really must learn to accept that and move on with your life.”

  “I fully intend to move on with it.” He tossed the shuttlecock aside and threaded his fingers through hers, sending shivers of delight up and down her arms. “That is where you come in, my lady.”

  “Me?” She looked at him, imploringly, fearfully, battling against the hope that threatened to overwhelm her.

  He pulled her closer. “I’m afraid you will not be able to hire Theo as your maid of all work after all.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t need a cottage, nor will you ever require one,” he said.

  “Why?” she asked again, probably sounding like a nincompoop. But try as she might, she couldn’t think clearly. His touch paralyzed her, his eyes mesmerized her, and his mouth transfixed her. The familiar scent of his cologne only added to the headiness.

  Kiss me before this beautiful dream disappears, she thought.

  He kissed the knuckles on her hand instead. “Marry me, Abby.”

  Her body trembled, or perhaps it was the room. She couldn’t tell. Was this truly happening? She didn’t dare to believe it. “How can I? Nothing has changed.”

  “Everything has changed,” he said. “I’ve realized I cannot live without you.”

  “But your title, your inheritance—”

  “Will be secure, so long as we produce an heir.”

  “How?” she asked again, desperately wanting to understand.

  He grinned wickedly. “How will we produce an heir?”

  Her face flamed. “That is not what I meant and you know it. Now cease teasing me and tell me how I can possibly marry you. The Marriage Act is still in place, is it not?”

  “In England, yes, but not in France. You need only accompany me to Paris and marry me there.”

  She blinked at him in awe. All this time, she’d seen nothing but walls and barricades while Brigston had managed to uncover a door somewhere, or perhaps he’d just knocked a hole through the plaster.

  “Is it really that simple?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say simple. It’s a long journey to Paris, and when we return there will be talk. A lot of it. Our acceptance among the ton may suffer, your reputation in particular. To elope once was one thing. To elope a second time with a man England looks upon as your brother is another.”

  Abby didn’t care about any of that. She wound her arms around his neck and snuggled close. “According to Prudence, a person’s life would be dull indeed without a little scandal attached to their name.”

  “I’ve always considered Lady Knave to be wise.” His arms circled her waist, and he dropped his forehead to hers. “Say you’ll run away to Paris with me, Abby.”

  “Only if you kiss me,” she answered.

  He complied, and Abby was immediately taken back to that day in the woods when he’d kissed her before. Only this time, it wasn’t just hope and possibilities that carried her afloat, it was the knowledge that she would finally be able to marry the man she loved, the only man she wanted to love. This was the start of something remarkable. Abby could feel it in her bones.

  Brigston continued to kiss her, moving from her lips to her neck. Abby delighted in each and every sensation. I was meant to be with this man, she thought.

  A loud clap of thunder shook the ballroom, and Abby pulled free with a gasp. She looked out the windows near the back of the ballroom, where she was sure she’d find evidence of a lighting strike, but all was well.

  Brigston chuckled and gathered her close, holding her tightly against him. “Apparently, my kiss can make the ground shake.”

  “I believe it was my kiss,” Abby countered. With her head buried against his chest, she could hear his heart thump, feel his tightened chest against her cheek, and smell the citrus and spice she’d grown to love.

  This was her home.

  “I believe it was I who kissed you,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, but I told you to kiss me.”

  “Why should that matter?”

  Abby opened her mouth to explain, but she couldn’t think of any additional arguments, so she playfully threaded her fingers through his hair instead. Such soft hair. “Can we not think of it as our kiss?”

  “No.”

  She laughed. “Then I’ll have to become very brazen and be the one to kiss you during thunderstorms from this point forward. Not only will I make the ground shake, but I’ll make a rainbow appear in the sky afterwards.”

  “I give you leave to try all you’d like.” He grinned and dropped another kiss on her lips before scooping up the shuttlecock. “In the meantime. I believe I have a game of shuttlecock to win.”

  She pouted. “You really were in earnest.”

  “Did you doubt it?” He retrieved the rackets and held one out to her.

  She didn’t take it right away, arching an eyebrow instead. “Before we begin, you should know that this was my favorite childhood game, and I’m quite good at it.”

  “Quite good at inventing unreasonable rules, you mean,” he quipped.

  She took the racket from him and smiled. “I’m good at that too. Very well. Let us see you try to best me, sir.”

  “I will do my utmost,” he promised and tossed her the shuttlecock.

  Four and One Half Months Later

  WEDDING BELLS CHIMED as Abby exited the chapel hand in hand with her husband. No one awaited them, no friendly faces or fanfare of any sort, just a sunny, late-August morning in Paris. A few people passed by on the street below, but that didn’t stop her husband from pulling her against him and kissing her soundly.

  One man whistled, making Abby blush and Brigston laugh.

  As soon as Parliament had concluded six weeks prior, Abby and Anne returned to Oakley with Brigston and his mother, taking Theo along with them. Although they couldn’t grant her the promised job of a maid of all work, Brigston had a better position in mind, a position that brought a smile to the girl’s lips and an excited flush to her cheeks. She was now assisting Monsieur Roch in the kitchen. At the time, Abby could only pray Theo would learn quickly and not upset the French cook too much—she knew from experience he was not the most patient of men—but Theo had surprise them all. She’d worked hard, adapted quickly, and now Monsieur Roch couldn’t do without her.

  Brigston assisted Abby into the barouche, and she settled happily in, smoothing out the folds of her blue silk gown. There was a reason she’d asked Brigston if they could wait until August to marry. Abby was officially out of mourning and could wear whichever color she wished. For her wedding gown, she’d chosen Jasper’s favorite—sky blue. Over a year ago, he’d begun a journey
with her that had ultimately led her here, and while he may be gone, his memory would live on through her, through her husband, through their mother, and through Anne.

  Thank you, Jasper, she thought as the barouche jolted forward, carrying them towards their first stop of their wedding trip—a grand hotel only a few blocks away. Over the next couple of weeks, they’d take in the sights of Paris, visit the surrounding countryside, and enjoy a few days in Calais before journeying back to Oakley.

  Abby tilted her face to the sunshine and then to her husband. How wonderful that sounded.

  My husband.

  He brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her palm. “I was hoping a thunderstorm would come through while we were in the church,” he said. He always teased her about her that, the toad.

  “I’m beginning to think I must be the superior kisser if you are always hoping for thunderstorms,” she said pertly.

  He barked out a laugh. “Think what you wish, my lady. We both know the truth.”

  The coach turned, taking them down a cobblestone street with the Louvre on the right and the Seine on the left. The imposing dome of the Collѐge des Quatre-Nations could be seen in the distance. It was a striking sight, one that Abby had never imagined she’d see.

  “Do you think little Anne is well?” she mused.

  He snickered. “After three weeks of Mother’s constant cosseting, there will be no living with her when we return.”

  Abby leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled. “Admit it. You could never live without her.”

  “I could live without ruined shirts and cravats and late night howlings that shake the house almost as much as my kisses.”

  Abby laughed, knowing he didn’t mean a word of it. It had taken longer for him to warm up to little Anne than his mother, but the day she’d grabbed hold of his cravat, pulled the knot loose, and stuffed the fabric into her mouth had been the day he’d been smitten. Abby recognized the look in his eyes. Now he doted on her almost as thoroughly as their mother did.