by Fiona Miers
Abigail nodded and lowered her gaze.
“You did not happen to catch the name of the young man who assisted me out of the water, did you?” Mrs. Roth raised an expectant brow at her daughter, awaiting her answer.
“As a matter of fact, I did.” Abigail drew in a breath before continuing, “Not that it matters. The mere fact that he took the time and effort to assist without expecting anything in return shows he is a gentleman. His kindness and selflessness are certainly commendable, whether he is titled or not.”
“And the mere fact that you would point it out so eloquently suggests that he is indeed much more important and titled than he appeared to be,” Mrs. Roth said with a sly smile.
“Please do not make a fuss, Mother.”
“How can I not? He rescued me.”
“Mother, please. I do not believe that making a fuss is appropriate. The man exposed himself to more people than he had anticipated he would.”
“Abigail, tell me.”
Abigail expelled a sigh and shook her head lightly. “He introduced himself as James Melton—”
“Lord James Melton? The younger brother to the Duke of Waign?”
Mrs. Roth’s gasp caused Abigail’s shoulders to slump. “You know of him?”
“Know of him? Of course. The Duke of Waign is a delightful man. He resides in London for most of the year but visits his estate in Weymouth in the off-season. His brothers, Lord James included, usually visit the estate as well. I have not met the duke nor his brothers, but I am aware the Melton family is wealthy, powerful, and very influential. It certainly helps to be in their good graces.”
“And why is that?”
“Only the duke is married, and—”
“Mother, pardon my interruption, but you are fully aware that I do not wish to be married, even if it includes the handsome young lord who rescued you from the swallowing waters of Weymouth Bay.”
“There is no need for such theatrics, Abigail. We are most certainly indebted to Lord James.”
“I beg to differ. You are indebted to him. He rescued you, Mother, not me.”
“Perhaps I should lay down for a while. I’m feeling rather light-headed from this tedious argument.”
Abigail rolled her eyes as her mother rose to her feet. “Do you require any assistance, Mother?”
“The kind of assistance I require from you, my dearest daughter, is the kind you cannot provide to me.”
“Such a snide remark,” Abigail said. “I do not feel that it is necessary for me to defend the decision I made. Timothy hurt me and he betrayed me, Mother. Does it not matter to you that I still live with the fear of being hurt and betrayed again?”
Mrs. Roth turned to her daughter, her eyes softening significantly. “I understand your reticence, my dear daughter, and I fully sympathise with the state you were left in after that horrible man betrayed you in such a brutal manner. It was not deserved in any possible way. You were kind to him, and you cared very much for him. I apologise if I seem harsh. It was never my intention.”
A smile lifted Abigail’s small mouth and she nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Mother. Your words mean a great deal to me. And I am not upset with you, nor could I ever truly be. You only wish the best for me, I understand that.”
“You are my daughter and I will always wish only the best for you.” Mrs. Roth walked towards Abigail and wrapped her arms around her daughter’s shoulders. “We only have one another.”
Abigail’s brow furrowed as she pulled out of her mother’s embrace after a brief pause. “Mother. Polly, Catherine, Susan and Laura are married, not dead.”
“That was not at all what I meant, my dear. But ever since your father...” Mrs. Roth’s voice trailed off and she turned away rather dramatically. “Things have not been the same since his passing. I have moved from the home we built together, shared memories together, and now it is now gone. My health begins to fail, my body grows older and frail. Soon my mind will follow, and I may lose the memories I made with your father, with my daughters.”
Abigail got to her feet so she could look her mother in the eye.
“Mother, you must not think such things. You will not forget Father, ever, for he lives here.” Abigail pressed her hand against her mother’s heart and smiled. “You will not forget him.”
I will not let you.
Mrs. Roth tucked a loose lock of hair behind Abigail’s ear and nodded. “As long as I have you here with me, then I will not. You remind me of him.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes and her lips pressed into a fine line. She was aware that her mother did not mean her words to be insulting. Abigail had inherited her father’s dark hair and his blue eyes, as well as his sense of adventure. She was as honest and open as her father had been, and she had a kind and fiery soul.
Although recent events had made her doubt the strength of that fire, she would always be reminded of her father’s words to her in difficult times.
“Always remember, my dearest Abigail, that the fire inside you is more powerful than the fires around you.”
His words were not lost upon Abigail, especially not when James’s face popped into her mind.
Chapter Five
Fortego’s hooves clopped on the stone pathway that led to Finley Manor, and even though James’ hair was already dry from the sun overhead, his clothes still clung to his skin.
After he had swum back to the secluded beach where his clothes and his horse were, he quickly dressed and rode Fortego back to his brother’s estate. He had not anticipated that his morning would result in a rescue attempt, as well as meeting the striking Abigail Roth.
A woman who appeared to have captured his mind. It was far too much excitement for one morning, and James made haste to return to Finley Manor.
The gates of the estate opened, and James motioned a gesture of gratitude to the two gatekeepers before making his way to the stables.
He dismounted his horse and led it to its stall where a fresh flake of hay and a full bucket of water awaited. The groom was waiting at the stall to take care of the horse and James patted Fortego on the muzzle and quietly left the stables. He followed the pathway to the manor house and observed his brother and Emma in the garden.
He was about to change direction and walk towards them when he noticed the way Emma threw her hands around in agitated animation. It appeared the couple was in the midst of a disagreement.
Not wanting to seem like he was eavesdropping on their argument, James hastily entered through the side door and closed it behind him.
He bit his lip as he hoped their conflict was not of a serious nature. He had sensed things weren’t perfect with Charles and Emma, but he did not wish to interfere. It would only do more damage.
James knew nothing of true love. He had never actually felt that way about a woman. There had been brief encounters, but never anything lasting or worthy of pursuing.
Perhaps he was merely too picky? But there had never been a woman who had caught his eye and captured his attention in such a manner.
Until he had gazed upon Abigail Roth.
James was certain it was only a momentary infatuation. It held no foundation. But when they’d spoken, his heart had begun to race. He reached out, placing his hand against the large pillar beside him. It felt as though the world spun around him. It both exhilarated and terrified him.
“James, are you all right?”
James glanced back over his shoulder and saw Charles standing nearby. He nodded and turned to his brother. “Indeed.”
“I did not expect you to arrive home this early. If I had known, I would have informed Kate to prepare a belated breakfast.”
“There is no need. I’m not hungry at all.”
Charles narrowed his eyes and studied him. “How was your swim, brother?”
“It was delightful, and even more eventful than I had planned,” James said.
“And why is that?”
“There was a woman who fell off her bathing machine and I a
ssisted her.”
“That is very heroic of you,” Charles said. “Was this woman perhaps young and attractive for you to come to her aid?”
“You see me as that shallow?”
Charles chuckled and shook his head. “I did not mean it in an insulting way, dear brother.”
“As a matter of fact, the woman I rescued was older and rather difficult to lift,” James said. Very difficult to lift, if he were being honest.
“That is unfortunate.”
A smug smile formed on James’s lips. “Her daughter, on the other hand, was quite lovely.”
“Indeed,” Charles said, his eyebrows flickering up. “Who is she?”
“Abigail Roth.”
Charles cocked his head and pondered for a moment. “Ah, yes. I know of her family. Mr. Roth’s was the brother to the Earl of Somerset, and he passed a few years prior.”
“I was not aware.”
“They resided in Bath, but after Mr. Roth passed, Mrs. Roth and her last unwed daughter moved to Weymouth.”
“Brother, you know quite a bit about her family,” James said.
“It comes with the title. I am supposed to be aware of all the residents in Weymouth.”
James grinned at his brother. “Or you simply heard Emma speaking of it with her lady friends.”
Charles’ stance grew defensive and his jaw clenched, but he didn’t utter a single word.
James started to apologise, since it seemed he could not even mention his sister-in-law at the moment, “Charles—”
Charles raised his hand and shook his head. “I do not wish to speak of it.”
James sighed. Were things really that bad? “Very well.”
“I do have a suggestion, though.”
James glanced expectantly at him and cocked his head. “What kind of suggestion?”
“Invite her to the soiree at the estate,” Charles said.
James’ brows sprung up, surprised at the idea. “I cannot do that.”
“And why not? You clearly find her attractive, and you most certainly cannot allow this chance to pass you by, brother.”
James stared at his brother for a moment, uncertain how Charles was able to recognise the glimmer in his eyes when he spoke of Abigail. It would most certainly be delightful to have the beautiful young woman attend their event.
James was equally thrilled and worried over Charles’s suggestion. He certainly didn’t plan to have or want an attachment. But the thought of having the delightful Abigail to pursue during the summer appealed to him more than he had realised.
Nevertheless, Charles’s suggestion was rather risky.
“I barely know her,” James said as he shook his head. “Although she has seen more than she ought to of me.”
Charles’s brow furrowed and he shifted his weight. “What on earth...” His voice trailed and he burst into a fit of laughter after he realised to what James referred. “Oh, that is quite delightful, and I am certain it was for the young lady as well.”
“I am glad my embarrassment amuses you.”
“I apologise,” Charles said with a completely unapologetic grin. “It is rather amusing. The young lady received much more than she bargained for with her rescue.”
Charles’s laughter echoed through the hallway, but James was far from amused. “I did not agree that I would invite her. That would be as absent—”
“As your garments were,” Charles said, still chuckling.
“Charles, your support and advice would be greatly appreciated at this moment,” James said wryly.
Charles stifled his laughter and straightened himself. “Of course, brother. My apologies.”
“Even if I did send an invitation to her, who is to say that she would accept?”
Charles cleared his throat and stepped to the side. “Answer me this question. Did this delightful young lady at any point seem disgusted or repulsed by the absence of your garments?”
James pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No, not that I can recall. I did express my regret profusely, but she dismissed those apologies and informed me there was no need.”
“Think of it in this manner... if she did not politely excuse herself and run for the hills, then you are in with more than a chance. The fact that she dismissed your apology certainly works in you favour.”
James admitted to himself that his older brother did state a fair point. It was then that he recalled the expression on Abigail’s face as her gaze swept over his torso, and he nodded. “Indeed.”
“Wonderful. Shall I request Jeffrey to have the invitation sent, or do you wish to hand deliver it?” Charles asked. “Abigail should find it rather refreshing to meet you fully clothed. Or, perhaps she prefers you without.”
James narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Stop it, Charles. She is a perfectly innocent young lady, and I shall not think otherwise. Jeffrey can create the invitation. I shall sign it and he may deliver it.”
“Very well. And so it shall be.” Charles winked at James before he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway towards the west wing.
James drew in a breath and expelled it in a slow sigh. His brother had the capacity to make him think of everything he’d never considered, but that was Charles’ nature. He analysed every detail and was the most rational and logical man James had ever encountered.
Charles had been the one to purchase a Lieutenant Colonel commission for James, which forced him to be the responsible young man everyone came to know. As soon as James had been released from duty, he received his reimbursement, and although it was a substantial amount of money, he was not certain what to do with himself any longer.
Being in service had been a large part of his life, and now he felt rather useless.
Especially since his brother was the Duke of Waign, with a lavish estate, a beautiful wife, and two delightful daughters. Charles had accomplished so much, despite the fact that he was only a few years older than James.
All these things made him feel rather inadequate.
He did earn a healthy allowance from an estate he had inherited from his paternal grandfather, and he had a lovely townhouse in London. Which, unfortunately, now felt like the home of a stranger to him. Something was missing.
He was delighted to be at the Weymouth estate and not alone in his townhouse London. The silent rooms drove him up the walls.
He was at a bit of a loss after the sale of his commission. The years in service, being a soldier for his country and his king, and fighting against Napoleon’s army had changed him, and it was most certainly not for the better.
Things that he enjoyed in the past did not matter any longer.
Which was precisely why he was reluctant to invite Abigail to the soiree at the estate. Once the poor young woman uncovered the hardened shell that he had built around him, she would certainly run for the hills.
Perhaps it was better that way. Abigail was too beautiful, and she most certainly did not deserve a broken man such as himself.
No one did.
Chapter Six
The beams of morning sunlight cast a sparkling glow down the hallway as Abigail made her way to the parlour, where the sweet aroma of a delicious breakfast tickled her nose.
Her brow furrowed as she realised the meal had not previously been served this early and was curious as to the reason. Hopefully it didn’t signal another excursion to the beach, although she would most certainly not mind seeing James again.
Clothed or not.
Abigail giggled to herself as she entered the parlour where her mother was already seated, quietly enjoying a cup of tea and her breakfast.
“Happy morning, Mother,” Abigail said with a bright smile as she sat beside her. “You look lovely. Did you sleep well?”
“I did, thank you. That fall into the water might have cured the aches in my back.”
“Or perhaps it was the strong pair of arms that helped you back into the chair,” Dotty said as she passed by the table.
&
nbsp; Abigail and her mother exchanged surprised glances before Abigail turned to Dotty with a giggle. “Admittedly, the gentleman did have very sculpted arms, Mother.”
“I did not notice. I was busy drowning.”
Abigail grinned at how ludicrous the whole event had been and sipped her tea. “He seemed like a nice man. We spoke briefly.”
Her mother raised her eyebrows. “And what could a nude man possibly say to you that would give you such an impression?”
“He was not required to come to our aid, but he did. He rescued you, and that shows me one thing. He is selfless and brave, and a man such as that...”
Abigail’s voice trailed off as she realised she had already said too much. Her mother stared at her with an expectant expression on her face.
Darn.
Her mother would now begin to question her decision to never marry. Abigail pressed her lips together and composed herself. “What I meant to say, is that simply because he did not wear any garments, does not mean he is not a good man.”
“There is no need to protest as much as you do, Abigail. I was aware what you meant. It’s simply entertaining seeing you attempting to explain yourself.”
Abigail’s jaw dropped as her mother chuckled with amusement.
She shook her head incredulously, then rose to her feet, reached for a piece of fruit and stepped away from the table. “Perhaps a carriage ride alone is exactly what I need.”
“Oh, my dear,” Mrs. Roth said as she stifled her laughter. “You are much too sensitive and defensive. I cannot imagine what the reason is for that.”
“I am not defensive, Mother.” It was futile to argue with the woman but unfortunately, she realised her mother was right.
Why was she as defensive as she was this morning? Was it because James had left a deeper impression on her than she’d initially thought?
Nevertheless, it did not matter.
Abigail was well aware she was not the most beautiful women in Weymouth, and James was a lord, the brother of a duke. Why would he waste his time thinking of someone in her station. She was a simple miss, and not in the least bit worthy of James’ affections or attention, for that matter.