Lord Darlington's Darling

by Gayle Buck

  Lady Bethany reared back, breaking out of Abby’s embrace. She was wild-eyed. “No! That is what I must not—cannot!—do! Abby, you must believe me. I would rather die than bring this disgrace to them!”

  “But Bethany, what else can you do?” asked Abby, utterly bewildered. “I cannot help you, you must see that! I don’t know what to do any more than you do!”

  “Oh, I know how foolish I must seem to you,” said Lady Bethany, dashing her tears away again. “And indeed, I didn’t mean to burden you with my terrible secret. I just had to tell someone! Do you understand?”

  “Of course I do,” said Abby reassuringly. However, she could scarcely begin to comprehend the other’s misery and shame. It was only her innate compassion that allowed her to dimly perceive the tortured emotions that underlay Lady Bethany’s tight control.

  “At least Richard offers me marriage. It would be utterly unbearable otherwise,” said Lady Bethany, almost under her breath. She seemed to shake herself. Then she rose. She held out her hand and smiled determinedly. “I shan’t keep you any longer, Abby. I suspect you have any number of commitments, and I really must go!”

  Abby stood up, too, but she wasn’t willing for Lady Bethany to leave when she was in such a state. “What are you going to do, Bethany?” she asked with quiet anxiety.

  “I’ve told you. I am going to elope with Mr. Farnham,” said Lady Bethany in a hard voice.

  “You don’t wish to be tied to him for the rest of your life!” exclaimed Abby.

  Lady Bethany’s gaze wavered. She shook her head quickly. “I haven’t a choice, Abby. Sylvan forbade me to see Richard Farnham, and how very much I regret that I did not listen! Now it is too late! Forgive me! I really must go!”

  “Wait!” Abby caught her friend’s arm. “Only tell me this, have you set the date yet? It is a paltry thought, in the circumstances, but I should like to give you a—a wedding gift!”

  Lady Bethany burst out laughing and threw her arms around her. “Oh, Abby! What a very good friend you have been to me! Oh, very well, if it will make you feel better, you may be certain of finding me at home until the middle of next week.”

  “And—and then?” asked Abby hesitantly.

  Lady Bethany shook her head. In a low, intense voice, she choked, “I must go!” Without another word she hurried out of the drawing room.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  With Lady Bethany’s abrupt departure, Abby was left in a whirl of conjecture and worry. Her own troubles seemed to pale in comparison to the terrible situation facing her friend. She didn’t know what to do. She clasped and unclasped her hands, ineffectually trying to find a solution, rejecting every thought as quickly as it arose.

  One reflection slowly and surely took hold of her mind. It became a fatal certainty, once it had occurred to her. If she had not aided and abetted Lady Bethany in her clandestine contacts with Mr. Farnham – when she knew that Lady Bethany’s brother and mother disliked the connection – perhaps Lady Bethany would not have been able to continue seeing the gentleman.

  Gentleman! Abby repulsed the title with a loathing gesture. She had little inkling exactly what had passed between Lady Bethany and Mr. Farnham, but from Lady Bethany’s obvious horror and distress, it had been an unpleasant business.

  She put that out of her mind, only with difficulty, and tried to concentrate on what she could possibly do. One thing she was certain of, and that was that Lady Bethany must not be allowed to elope with such a monster. Even if it turned out that Lady Bethany was indeed with child— Abby’s whirling thoughts stopped there, unwilling to carry her into further speculations.

  Abby found that she had left the drawing room and was standing uncertainly in the entry hall. The footman on duty was looking at her, as though he had addressed her and was awaiting instruction.

  Abby pulled herself together. She was astonished at how unconcerned her voice sounded. “Lady Bethany unfortunately had to cut short her visit. She was not feeling well. I should like the carriage brought around. And have my maid sent up to me, please.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Abby ran up the stairs. Not until she had entered her bedroom and had begun to impatiently undo what buttons she could manage on her carriage dress that she realized she had come to a decision. She could not stop Lady Bethany from eloping with Mr. Farnham, but Lord Darlington could. She froze in the act of loosening her cuffs, for a moment awash again with uncertainty. She had made a promise to Lady Bethany. She could not betray her friend’s trust. Could she? She nibbled on her lip with uncertainty.

  The maid entered the bedroom and regarded her mistress with surprise. “What is this, miss?”

  At once Abby snapped out of her indecision again. In a cool voice she said, “I am going out, Martha. I do not know how long I shall be, for I am going to call on Lor—Lady Darlington.”

  The maid accepted Abby’s stated intention without comment and helped her to dress in a gown suitable for afternoon calls. Within a quarter hour Abby was on her way to the Darlington town house. She nervously clutched her reticule and wondered if her small store of courage would sustain her.

  At the town house, she was at once admitted. The butler expressed his regret that neither Lady Darlington nor Lady Bethany was at home. “Would you care to leave a message, ma’am?”

  Abby was at a stand. She realized her impetuous action had not been well thought out. She really hadn’t thought at all, she reflected with dismay. She recalled now that Lady Darlington had remarked she had errands that morning and would stop at the Crackers’ for tea. Naturally it would be assumed she had come to see the two ladies of the house. She couldn’t very well demand a private audience with Lord Darlington.

  She thought quickly. With a nervous smile she said, “I am sorry not to find Lady Darlington or Lady Bethany at home. Lady Bethany called earlier and I forgot to convey an invitation at that time for her and her ladyship. May I use the library to write a short note? Oh, and if his lordship is in and it is not too much trouble, I should like to express my appreciation to Lord Darlington once again for the drive this morning.”

  “Certainly, miss.” The butler ushered her with a respectful bow into the library, directing her to the writing desk, before quietly closing the door. If he thought her request to speak privately to the marquess was odd, he gave no indication of it. Abby was thankful. She feared that her nerves were near shattered by the amount of sheer bravado she had already displayed,

  Abby sat down at the writing desk, casting aside her reticule and muff. It had not crossed her mind before, but she now penned an agitated note to Lady Bethany, imploring her to reconsider the action which she was contemplating. She had sanded and folded the sheet, just addressing it, when the door of the library opened.

  She looked up to meet Lord Darlington’s inscrutable, narrowed gaze. Abby flushed and rose precipitously, almost overturning the chair in her haste. “My lord! I—I was hoping to find you at home.”

  Lord Darlington crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him with a snap. There was no hint of gladness in his gaze. “What are you doing here, Miss Fairchilde?”

  Abby’s brave smile wobbled before the hardness of his voice. She gestured helplessly at the folded note. “I wished to leave a note for Lady Bethany and—” She drew in a ragged breath and raised her eyes to his. “That is not true. I came because—” She tried again. “I came because— “ To her horror and self-disgust, she started to cry.

  At once Lord Darlington crossed over to her, his expression changing to remorse. “Miss Fairchilde—Abby! I am sorry. It was stupid of me. I shouldn’t have railed at you like that. Pray don’t cry! I am not worth it, you know!”

  Abby found herself enfolded in the marquess’s embrace, her nose pressed uncomfortably against his hard shoulder. A somewhat watery and strangled laugh was torn out of her. She pushed against him, quite ineffectually. “I cannot breathe properly!” she protested, her voice muffled by his coat.

  Instantly he relea
sed her, only retaining hold of her hands. “Fool that I am, I nearly suffocated you!” he said, smiling a little. There was a shade of uncertainty in his eyes. “Am I forgiven?”

  Abby felt the iciness in her heart melting. She smiled at him. She blinked away the tears so that she could see his face better. “Oh, there is nothing to forgive! I was being stupid—”

  “Not nearly as stupid as I,” he said, his voice suddenly rough. He bent his head to kiss her, slowly, his fingers tightening on her hands to an almost unbearable degree.

  Abby’s lashes fluttered open when he broke from her. Lord Darlington was breathing hard. He dropped her hands at last and stepped back from her. “Perhaps I should keep some distance between us,” he remarked in a hoarse voice. “You shouldn’t have come. You shouldn’t be here, with me, like this.”

  Abby swallowed, all at once remembering just why she had come. When she looked into his eyes and saw the warm light in them, she felt herself wavering. Wildly, her thoughts sprang this way and that. She couldn’t possibly tell him of her duplicity. He would feel such disgust for her. He would surely turn from her again. He— But no! She straightened her shoulders. She had to remember Lady Bethany. She had to tell him, for he would know what to do to save his sister.

  Abby unconsciously twisted her hands together, her inner agitation beginning to tell on her. “My lord, there is something I must tell you!”

  “My lord?! I thought we were quite beyond formalities, my darling,” he said, half chidingly.

  The endearment was almost Abby’s undoing. Tears started to her eyes again, and she turned quickly away so that he could not see her face. “Pray do not!”

  Lord Darlington was astonished. He started toward her, but caught himself up. There was something he did not understand, something that was exercising powerfully upon her. He spoke gently. “What is it, Abby? You may trust me, I swear.”

  For reply, she thrust out her hand to stop him. “Do not, I beg of you! I have not the courage to relate to you what I must when you are—are kind to me!”

  He was increasingly perplexed. He could not imagine what could possibly have happened in the short time since he had seen her last that had set her in such a state. Then his imagination began to work, and grimness entered his expression. A muscle ticked alongside his jawline. With one hand on her elbow, he turned her to face him. “Abby, something has occurred, hasn’t it? Was it Lord Fielding?”

  Abby stared at him almost uncomprehending. A small hysterical laugh began to work its way up from her chest. “Oh, no, no! Lord Fielding?” She laughed again.

  Lord Darlington took hold of her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Stop it, Abby! Stop it, I say! You must tell me the truth! I can see the fright in your eyes!” His fingers tightened on her until she winced. “He has been importuning you again, hasn’t he? And you were too weak to withstand him. Have you accepted his offer? Have you?”

  “No, no! Let me go, Sylvan! How dare you use me so!” exclaimed Abby, trying to twist away from him.

  Her attempt to escape only fueled his jealousy. He spoke between gritted teeth. “If Fielding has dared press his attentions on you, I shall thrash him within an inch of his life!”

  Abby stared into his molten eyes, her struggles against him ceasing. There was an arrested look in her eyes, as though she was seeing him for the first time. Suddenly she spoke, quite coldly, though her voice was shaking, “Let me go, Lord Darlington!”

  He did so, more out of surprise at her tone of command than anything else. He had never heard her speak in such a fashion.

  Abby turned to pick up her discarded muff and reticule. When she swept around to face him again, she had herself well in hand. “I came on a matter of some importance, my lord, but I fear I made a mistake. I shall take my leave now. Pray give my regards to Lady Darlington and—and to Lady Bethany.”

  “Abby—”

  She looked at him. “Pray get out of my way, my lord!”

  Lord Darlington stepped aside. She went past him without a glance, opened the door and exited.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Abby remained at home for the rest of the day. She went to her bedroom well before tea, feigning sleep when her maid came upstairs to tell her of Lady Darlington’s arrival. Her courage had completely deserted her. She had abandoned her original inclination to confide Lady Bethany’s troubles to either Lord Darlington or the dowager.

  Indeed, Lord Darlington’s repressed fury had caused her to suffer a severe check. In that moment when Lord Darlington had held her by the arms so tightly and spoken to her so, she had imagined that blazing anger unleashed. Her small measure of resolution had quailed inside of her.

  Abby kept her breathing deep and regular, tensely waiting for the maid to go away. The woman finally did so, shutting the door quietly behind her, Abby turned her face into her pillow and cried, despising herself and tortured by her own helplessness to do anything on Lady Bethany’s behalf.

  When it came time to depart for the evening’s round of entertainments, Abby pleaded the headache. “I—I really should like to stay in this evening.”

  Mrs. Crocker regarded her sister’s wan face with concern and recommended that she go to bed early. “You will feel more the thing in the morning, I am persuaded.”

  Abby managed a smile. “I hope so.” She was glad to stay in her room, where she did not have to pretend to everyone that everything was all right. Anxiety over Lady Bethany’s plight was a nagging thing which she couldn’t shake off.

  As for herself and her own troubled course in love, her heart felt bruised beyond repair.

  Abby could not sit still. When she tried to read, the words were just a jumble of nonsense. She got up to pace again around the bedroom. She castigated herself for not confessing to Lord Darlington, yet when she recalled his expression and the harsh tones of his voice, she shuddered. She could not have done it. A suppressed violence had blazed in his eyes and in his very stance. She had not needed the implicit threat he had made toward Lord Fielding to persuade her of his absolute sincerity. At last she had understood Lady Bethany’s fear to confide in her brother. Lady Bethany had not been exaggerating, after all, when she had claimed Lord Darlington was capable of killing Mr. Farnham.

  Abby shuddered again, covering her face with her hands. She had almost unleashed that murderous rage by telling him of Lady Bethany’s wretched plight. What might have come of it she did not know, but she was glad she had not told him. No good purpose would have been served if the marquess killed Mr. Farnham and was then forced to flee the country for his own life. Lady Darlington and Lady Bethany would have been left to face the resulting scandal. It would have been devastating to them.

  As for herself, what did it matter that she had lost all chance at happiness? A yawning chasm of duplicity lay between her and Lord Darlington, and she did not know how to cross it. She had thought she could confide in Lord Darlington, but confession seemed impossible under the circumstances, especially in light of her new understanding of his character.

  Abby wondered whether she was brave enough to tell everything about the sordid mess, and her own contemptible involvement, to her own relations. She desperately wished to ask someone for their advice. She longed to give over responsibility for Lady Bethany’s succor to someone else. In only a few short minutes, she decided she wasn’t brave enough to go to any one of those whose judgment she trusted better than her own with such an impossible story. As for August, even if he had returned from the country, she could not possibly embroil him. He was scarcely more than a boy, and he had been enamored of Lady Bethany at one time, besides.

  In addition, Abby shrank instinctively from revealing intimacies told to her in confidence to anyone without Lady Bethany’s express permission. If Lady Bethany did not want her mother and brother to know what had befallen her, certainly she would not want the matter discussed by mere acquaintances.

  Eventually, Abby did go to bed. However, a bad night’s sleep did not bring her
any comfort. She rose feeling exhausted, her worries intact. The morning mail brought a hurried note from Lady Bethany. Abby opened it with trembling fingers, dreading what it might contain. She was relieved when the note contained nothing about the elopement, but was instead Lady Bethany’s response to her own note, penned while waiting for Lord Darlington. Her friend demanded that Abby meet her that same morning at a particular location in the park.

  Abby made some excuse to her sister and the others and had the carriage brought around. The morning was gray with a fine misting rain, which exactly suited her low mood. In a few tense minutes her destination was reached. As the carriage slowed, she looked out the window and saw that the Darlington carriage was already there.

  Abby got out immediately and walked over to meet the lone feminine figure standing at the edge of the flowered path. “Bethany, I came as soon as I could,” she said breathlessly.

  There was tension in Lady Bethany’s expression as she turned. She paid no heed to Abby’s greeting, but at once suggested that they walk a little ways down the path. When they were out of earshot of the coachmen, Lady Bethany exclaimed, “Abby, what were you about to come to the town house yesterday? When I had your note, I nearly swooned away! How could you leave a note about . . . Where anyone might have picked it up, too!”

  Abby shook her head. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, I know that. I realized it as soon as I was admitted by your butler. But I thought it would be less odd if I were to leave a note as an excuse for calling. And then what was in such possession of my mind just came flowing onto the paper!” She stopped and turned fully to her friend. “Bethany, pray don’t do it! I beg you to reconsider! There must be another way, I am sure of it.”

  Lady Bethany shook her head quickly, unhappily. “I have thought and thought, but there isn’t. Richard threatens to expose me if I do not keep my word and meet him. He cares nothing for the scandal, he says!”