“Sir, Mr. Grundell requests an audience.”
At last. Maybe some news.
“Excellent. Send the man in.”
Perhaps Grundell had finally gotten to the bottom of Abigail’s accidents. Joseph rose as the investigator entered and shook his hand.
After the usual greetings, and with a coffee cup in front of each man, Joseph leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “I am hoping you have some news for me. Abigail has been involved in yet another accident, and I am beside myself trying to figure this out.”
“I am so sorry to hear that. Actually I do have news. I am not completely sure this person is responsible for your wife’s accidents, but she has a very interesting background.”
“She?”
“Yes.” He opened his notebook, adjusted his spectacles and flipped the pages. “Lady Edith Durham started out her life as Bessie Mayer, daughter of the town drunk.”
“Lady Durham?” His eyes flicked upward to the ceiling where he’d left Abigail in her care. The uneasiness he’d felt before returned.
“Yes. The lady has been living a very different life than the one she was born into. Apparently, after a very suspicious fire, in which her father, Eddy Mayer, died, she disappeared.”
Joseph took a sip of his coffee, the uneasiness turning into a cold sense of dread in his stomach.
“She turned up in London, as a clerk in a woman’s store. I spoke at some length with an employee there. Through Lady Edith Durham’s work at this ladies’ store, she obtained a job as companion to Lady Durham.” He raised his eyes, and added, “That would be her deceased husband’s first wife.”
Joseph indicated the man should continue.
“Although there was nothing strange about that woman’s death, since she was under doctor’s care for a bad heart, Lady Edith Durham married the late Lord Durham only a few weeks after her employer’s death.”
Joseph stood, unable to sit as he listened to the litany of events that was leading up to God knew what.
“What has all of this to do with my wife’s accidents?”
Grundell leaned back and crossed his arms. “Lady Durham was almost forcibly removed from the Durham Estate by the new heir—the old man’s nephew. As far as I can tell, she receives a very small monthly portion from him.”
“I am not sure this means anything,” Joseph said, trying desperately to make sense of the information.
“I don’t know for sure myself, sir. However, given the mystery surrounding your wife’s accidents after she suddenly appeared in Addysby End as your wife, I thought you should know.”
Joseph expelled a breath of air and collapsed into his chair. Thank goodness Sanders was with Abigail. Even though all of this did not exactly make Lady Durham the guilty party, it certainly gave him something to discuss with the constabulary.
“Sir, Lady Durham has requested a tray be sent to her in my lady’s bedchamber,” Sanders said as she entered the breakfast room.
Joseph shot out of his seat. “Is she alone with Lady Abigail?”
“Yes. . .” She barely got the word out when he raced past her, almost knocking her off her feet.
Chapter Nineteen
Abigail opened her eyes. Her head still hurt like the devil, but she didn’t feel quite so muddle headed. Her gaze roamed the room and settled on Lady Durham standing at the door. The woman was speaking to someone, and then Abigail heard the sound of the bedchamber door closing and footsteps hurrying away down the corridor.
As Lady Durham turned back to her, Abigail sucked in a deep breath, memories of being led to the bank of the river, and then her head exploding in pain, swamping her. She opened her mouth to scream as Lady Durham whipped the pillow out from under her head and placed it over her face, pressing hard. “This time I will be sure that you’re dead, you little bitch.”
Abigail tried to move her head to the side but her neck wouldn’t cooperate. She brought her hands up and pushed, allowing her to get a lungful of air before the pillow came down on her face once more.
She raised her knee and shoved it into Lady Durham’s stomach. The woman grunted, and her hold on the pillow lessened, but with persistence she pressed down again.
Abigail twisted and turned, fighting for her life. The harder she fought, the more determined were the hands that pressed the pillow on her face. Soon the lack of air and her weakened state got the better of her. She no longer had the strength to resist.
So here she would die. In her own bed before she could tell Joseph how much she loved him, and how sorry she was for whatever it was that had caused their rift. She should have remained and insisted on knowing exactly of what she was being accused, instead of fleeing like a child.
Abigail attempted once more to make her arms move to push the pillow away, but black dots gathered at the edges of her eyes and slowly moved to engulf her.
…
Joseph flung open the door to their bedchamber. An agonized cry erupted from his throat at the sight of Lady Durham holding a pillow over Abigail’s head.
Within seconds he was across the room and grabbing the woman by her shoulders. He wrenched her to the side, and she stumbled to her knees. “Get out!” he shouted in Lady Durham’s direction.
“No!” She snarled and jumped up. She threw herself on Abigail who was struggling to sit up, gasping for breath. “She has to die.”
Still breathing heavily, but with strength that amazed him, Abigail kicked out, catching Lady Durham in the chest. The woman flew backward and landed on her bottom.
Joseph scooped Abigail into his arms. “Manning!” He bellowed.
Flush faced and panting, Grundell and Manning burst into the room, Grundell with a pistol in his hand. Lady Durham screeched and scrambled up, attempting to run from the room. The two men grabbed her and pulled her hands behind her back.
Joseph collapsed on the bed, settling Abigail on his lap. His stomach knotted and he watched in fear as she opened her eyes, the color slowly returning to her face. “Oh, my love,” he groaned.
“Joseph . . .”
He shook his head. “No. Don’t speak, please don’t speak. Just breathe, and let me look at you.”
She moved her hand to cover his where he held her tightly. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to get her breathing under control. Two tears tracked down her cheeks. She’d never looked more beautiful, and he had never loved her more than he did at this moment. And it was beyond time to tell her, to take the step that would lay his heart open. No matter what had happened in the past, or the differences in their station, he knew in his heart they were meant to be together.
With a groan, Abigail shifted and sat up, resting her head on his shoulder. He rocked her back and forth, as if she were a babe. Grundell and Manning left the room, dragging a cursing Lady Durham between them.
Slowly Abigail’s breathing returned to normal, and she looked up at him. “I love you, Joseph.” She swallowed, her voice raspy as she continued, “I was so frightened that I would never have the chance to tell you. I am still not sure what our disagreement was about, but know this. I have never loved anyone as I love you.”
“I know.” He closed his eyes. “We will sort it all out, but my love for you is strong enough to weather any storm.”
Manning returned to the room, followed by Sanders. “My lady, it is with great happiness that I find you awake and looking as lovely as ever.”
Abigail laughed, her voice still scratchy. “Manning, I am sure I look anything but lovely, but nevertheless, I will accept your compliment.”
“Mr. Grundell asked me to inform you that he has taken Lady Durham to the magistrate.”
“Thank you.” Joseph rested his cheek on Abigail’s head, thankful it was all over. Suddenly aware that Abigail was draped all over him, in her nightclothes, with both Manning and Sanders beaming at her with delight, Joseph rallied himself and addressed Sanders. “Please prepare a bath for her ladyship.”
…
Refreshed from her bath, an
d after a light breakfast of tea and toast in her room, Abigail headed to the library where Manning told her Joseph was meeting with the magistrate, Mr. Kerns.
Still a bit weakened from her ordeal, but the pounding in her head now reduced to a steady low pain, she opened the door to see him in deep conversation with Mr. Kerns. Joseph left the magistrate and hurried to her. “How are you feeling, my love?”
“I still have a bit of a headache, but I do want to speak with Mr. Kerns.”
The gentleman bowed. “And I wish to speak with you as well, Lady Abigail. I am very sorry for your trouble. But be assured we will get to the bottom of this.”
Joseph assisted her to the settee where she sat, easing back carefully.
Mr. Kerns proceeded to question her, and between Abigail and Joseph the entire story unfolded, beginning with the shooting in the woods to the attempted smothering in her own bed.
“Nasty business,” Mr. Kerns said as he shook his head and closed his notebook.
“What will happen to Lady Durham?” Abigail asked.
“Once I received the note from Mr. Fox, I arranged to have Lady Durham held in her home until we got to the bottom of this. Her family has been notified, and we’ll see from there what our recourse will be.”
“I was under the impression she had no family.” Hands joined, Joseph and Abigail walked with the magistrate slowly to the door.
“Her late husband’s nephew, the new Lord Durham, has been sent word. It is up to him what he wants to do with her. Most likely a private sanitarium if he wants to part with the funds.” He shrugged. “Most times women of her rank are cosseted away by family members if they’re involved in some sort of crime.”
All three arrived at the front door. “I will be in touch with you and your wife once this is all squared away.” He turned to Abigail. “I am very sorry for all the problems you have had.”
“Thank you. I am glad it is finally at an end.”
He nodded at them both and took his leave.
Joseph wrapped his arm around Abigail’s waist and led her back to the library. Still not feeling quite herself, she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Would you prefer to return to bed?”
“No. I think I would like to stroll in the garden. I feel the need for fresh air.”
After obtaining a shawl from Manning, they left the house and wended their way along the rose garden path toward the back of the house. The burned out gardener’s shed caused her to shiver. Joseph pulled her close. “I have decided we are leaving Addysby End.”
She leaned back to stare at him, eyebrows raised. “When?”
“As soon as I can have the household packed and ready to go.” He turned and took both of her hands in his and led them to a stone bench under a large oak tree. “After all that has happened to you, I cannot stay here.”
“How long do you intend for us to be gone?”
“Forever.” He enveloped her in his arms, hugging her close. “We will move to my estate in Cornwall, or if that doesn’t appeal, we can buy something else. Perhaps closer to your family. But away from here.”
She shifted to look up at him. “No, Joseph. We can’t do that.”
“Why not? I will never feel as though you are safe here.”
“Lady Durham wished me dead. The woman apparently had designs on you and your money. When I showed up to interfere with her plans, she took it upon herself to get rid of me. She has been stopped. The authorities will deal with her now. There is no reason to give up your dream of providing a school for the village children.”
“You are more important to me than any dream I might have had.”
She smiled and brushed back the hair forever falling on his forehead. “Let us not discuss this now. Once we have had the opportunity to put this behind us, we can make a decision. But first I want you to explain to me what it was that caused you to accuse me of dallying with Redgrave.”
He sighed and looked out into the distance. “I found part of a note on the floor in my study. It had been torn and appeared to have been dropped. From what I could read it seemed as though you and Redgrave had been corresponding. In the note he referred to his ‘eternal love’ for you—or some such thing.”
Abigail’s jaw dropped. “That is ridiculous. I haven’t heard from that bounder since he absconded with Lady Priscilla.” Heat rose from her middle, and she jerked her chin upward. “If he had the audacity to actually contact me, I would send him a blistering retort that would burn his fingers to hold it.”
“I believe you, and I am so sorry I didn’t dismiss the note out of hand.” He kissed her knuckles. “Will you ever forgive me?”
“Since I am quite sure the note was planted by Lady Durham, I can understand your acrimony.” She took both of his hands in her, squeezing lightly. “But surely you know I would never betray you, Joseph.”
“I know, my love. The fault rests with me. I fear it was always in the back of my mind that our difference in rank would one day cause you to regret your hasty decision to marry me. That somehow you would feel as though you had settled.” He held up his hand as she started to speak. “My feelings for you go back years. When you were about to make your come-out, I wanted nothing more than to sweep you away and have you for my own. But I knew as the daughter of a duke, your life was destined to be far away from mine.”
“Oh, Joseph. You know my family. It would not have made a difference.”
“A young man’s insecurity, I’m afraid.”
“Then I guess we owe Redgrave a great deal of thanks. When you acted as though you had nothing more than brotherly feelings for me, I decided to find a man who I could care for as much as I cared for you.” She smiled softly. “Not only was that man not Redgrave, but his deception brought us together as we should have been long ago.”
“I shall send him a case of the finest brandy in the morning.”
Abigail grinned and dipped her chin. “With my compliments.”
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, then Abigail said, “Now I think I should enjoy a brief rest. I find I am still weary from my dunk in the river.” She raised the back of her hand over her mouth to quell a yawn.
Joseph moved so quickly he almost knocked her to the ground. “And I shall join you. As I feel quite fatigued myself.”
She raised her eyebrows, a siren’s smile playing on her lips. “Perhaps we can find a way to pass the time as we wait for sleep.”
He drew her up. “An excellent suggestion, and one that was on the tip of my tongue, my lady.”
“Then lead the way, sir.”
Abigail chuckled when his steps hurried as he directed her toward the house.
Epilogue
Two months later
“You will be happy to know that Lady Durham is ensconced on an estate near the Scotland border.” Joseph entered Abigail’s sitting room with a letter in his hand. He’d been expecting word from the magistrate any day, and he was only too happy to receive it and relate the information to his wife.
“Is she now?”
“Yes.” He glanced at the missive. “It seems Lord Durham had a cottage out that way before he became the current lord. He writes that the estate is not large, but Lady Durham will have no use of a carriage, so she will not be able to leave the area unless she walks.”
“You know, in some ways I feel sorry for her.”
“Surely you do not mean that. The woman tried to kill you. More than once.”
“I know. I am not saying she doesn’t deserve what she got, and in some ways it should be more, but anyone who will go to those measures must have been desperate, indeed.”
Joseph pulled up a chair to sit in front of her writing desk. “I know as a rector, I should be forgiving, but I cannot bring myself to excuse what she did.”
“She told me she had a very difficult early life. It seems she struggled quite a bit to get as far as she did.”
“I know. Mr. Grundell had a full report on her. But being poor and coming from d
ire circumstances doesn’t push one past the line of considering murder. That is a step that very few people can take.”
“I am just glad it is all over. Things have been so peaceful.”
He left his seat and moved around the desk. Resting his hip on the desk, he swung his leg back and forth, regarding her. “I must say that peace agrees with you. There is a glow about you that I have never seen before.”
“Ah. The glow. Yes, that is probably apparent, at this point.”
He pulled her up, settling her between his spread legs, wrapping his arms around her waist. “And what mysterious business would create such a glow?”
She began to fiddle with his cravat, a smile teasing her lips. “Something very serious, yet it will make you happy.”
“Serious? Is that right?” He ran his palms up her arms to rest his intertwined fingers at the back of her neck. He pulled her forward and rested his forehead against hers. “You already make me happy.”
He leaned in and kissed her sweet lips. Never again would he want to live through the horror of Abigail’s accidents. He’d felt so useless and inept. She was his entire world, and he didn’t care who knew it. He looked in the mirror each morning and admitted out loud that he was besotted. “So what is this serious matter that makes you glow?”
Once again she fiddled with is cravat. “Suppose I tell you that in about seven months there will be a new person living in our house.”
His heart leapt. A baby! He had guessed that’s where she was leading him, but didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“A new person? Is your mother coming for a visit?”
“Joseph!”
“What?”
“You know what I mean.”
He sighed. “Yes, I guess I do. I’m so sorry, Abigail I will miss you dreadfully.” He kissed her on her nose and walked toward the door.
“Joseph! What are you talking about?”
Turning toward her, he said, “Why our agreement, of course.”
“What agreement?” She followed behind him as he left the room and walked to his bedchamber.
He got as far as his door and turned to her. “Why our agreement that I will no longer trouble you with my attentions once you are enceinte.”
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