Loving a Forsaken Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Aria Norton

  She coloured when she realised that Sarah had been staring intently at her for the last few seconds. Abigail averted her gaze, stirring the coals with the poker once more. She placed another log on the fire and came to sit down next to her at the table.

  "Why do you look so familiar? Have we met before?" Sarah asked. "It's just I've been thinking this whole time that I know you." Sarah seemed to be searching her memory as if the answer lay just beyond the edge of recollection.

  "Yes, we have met. I'm the woman you sacked a few weeks ago. You thought I was having an affair with your husband," Abigail explained sheepishly. "I wanted to explain but was too embarrassed."

  "You? You're Abigail Smith?" Sarah asked in disbelief. "Why would you disguise yourself as a maid?"

  Abigail sighed, knowing that Sarah would likely be livid with her when she explained her reason. "Like I said, I wanted to explain everything, but I didn't get the chance. I was there on the behest of Thomas, not your husband. I swear it. I had never even met your husband until I came to work for you."

  "So you're not a domestic servant?" Sarah asked, screwing up her face in confusion. "Why would Thomas ask you to pretend to be a maid?"

  Abigail took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Lord Brampton wanted me to find out information about your husband. Thomas asked me to help him bring Filmore down. You should know that Thomas put a stop to his plan to ruin your husband, though. When he saw you at the ball the other night, he changed his mind and decided to help you instead."

  Sarah's eyes filled with tears. "He did?" Abigail could see the regret envelop her. She hunched her shoulders and covered her mouth with her hands. Abigail felt a moment of jealousy but quickly pushed it down. Sarah had known Thomas for much longer than she had. Abigail had no right to him quite the contrary. Sarah was the one Thomas loved, not her. Abigail felt her heart breaking, for she knew Sarah could see how much Thomas cared for her. "He did."

  Sarah studied her for a long while, making her uncomfortable. "It is Thomas you love then, not Ezra?"

  Abigail was surprised by this question, taken aback by her bluntness. Was she so easy to read? She could hardly lie to Sarah. Abigail was tired of lies. She simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Standing, she went to the window to look out at the moon-brushed landscape. "It doesn't matter now. I'm a woman with no name, and no fortune. What little reputation the Staton name carried is now ruined. My brother has quit his political career in disgrace. I have brought us even lower with the rumours going around about Lord Brampton and me." She wiped at a single tear as it rolled down her cheek. "I could never be good enough for Lord Brampton."

  Sarah joined her at the window and wrapped an arm around Abigail as if they were old friends. Their brush with danger had bonded them. "Thomas is a good man. I would not be too quick to judge him. Don't give up hope just yet."

  Abigail shook her head. "No, it is better to give up hope than to have it dashed in the end." She wished her feelings had not been so easily discerned. It hurt to talk about what might have been with Lord Brampton. No doubt he would do his best to help Sarah get her divorce. Would he care that she would be a social outcast and marry her anyway? They could travel abroad, and no one would know the difference. It had been done before.

  "I saw how Thomas looked at you while you were dancing last night. He couldn't take his eyes off you." Sarah smiled weakly, "I know, because he used to look at me like that."

  She sat down on the edge of Abigail's bed and began to cry again. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to make a nuisance of myself again. I've just realised everything I gave up. Thomas is one of the few good men in the world and I gave him up for a devil."

  Abigail joined her, taking her hand. "I'm so sorry for everything you've been through."

  Sarah looked away, "I'm surprised you'll even speak to me, let alone have compassion for my circumstance. It's my own fault, after all."

  "No one deserves a man like Filmore. Believe me, if people knew everything about him that we've found out over the last two months, no one would blame you for leaving him. That's what we had planned to do, actually. We were going to reveal everything to the public and ruin him for good."

  "What do you know?" Sarah asked, turning an expectant gaze on her. Abigail was still trying to decide whether to tell her now or wait for Thomas to arrive. Perhaps hearing the details of Filmore's past escapades would be better coming from someone she knew.

  "Please, Abigail. I already know his dark nature. He had hardly carried me over the threshold before he started cavorting with other women."

  "If you're sure," Abigail said. However, before she could begin to explain about Lady Elisa and the baby, Abigail halted. Horses’ hooves could be heard coming up the drive. "Do you hear that?"

  She went to the window and looked out, the sound growing louder. Then she saw a lone figure riding up the drive, with only his outline visible.

  Sarah rushed to her side, her fear almost tangible. "Is it Filmore? Oh, God, what am I to do?"

  "It's not Filmore. It's Lord Brampton," Abigail gasped. She clutched at the blanket around her shoulders and ran out into the hall towards the front door. Both ladies were outside, waiting as he rode up the drive. He looked as if he had been run over by a stagecoach.

  "Lord Brampton, are you alright? Why didn't you bring the coach instead of riding like this all night?" Abigail scolded. Thomas practically fell off the horse and into her arms. Holding his side, he gasped for air. Abigail could tell her was having a hard time getting enough air. She was surprised he had made it this far, in the dead of night, with the extent of the injuries he had sustained during the fight.

  "Come on, help me get him inside. Bailey!" she called for the one hall boy her aunt employed. "Take the horse and get it fresh water and feed. And then go for the doctor," she instructed. The boy's eyes were as big as saucers, watching as the ladies helped Lord Brampton into the house.

  "Yes, Miss," he said and hurried to do as he was told. Abigail and Sarah helped Thomas sit down in the parlour. Her mother met them in the doorway, threatening to faint. "Don't you dare, Mother," Abigail scolded. “Ask Aunt Beatrice if she has bandages. And some liniment." Abigail stirred the coals in the hearth and put a fresh log on when the flames burst into life.

  "Thank God you are both safe," Thomas said, his breath coming in short, pained gasps. Abigail started tending to his wounds. He winced as she dabbed the cut above his eye with the edge of the blanket, trying to keep the blood from dripping on her aunt's carpets. It looked like it had been bandaged already, but the dressing had no doubt come loose during the long ride. She went to fetch a towel from the kitchen and came back with fresh bandages. She dabbed at his forehead while Sarah stood by watching.

  Thomas looked at Sarah, his eyelids drooping. "Thank God you're safe." Abigail glanced at Sarah, feeling that Thomas’ words carried all the love in the world in them. She hardened her heart to the emotions toiling inside, focusing on the task at hand. There would be time to cry later, when she was alone.

  Chapter 34

  Thomas could barely see through the waves of pain that wracked his body with every breath or slight movement. At least Abigail and Sarah were safe. That was all that mattered.

  He had spent the whole ride worrying that Filmore had somehow figured out where they were going and caught up to them. He could see that Abigail was concerned as she fussed over his cut. It looked worse than it felt.

  His hat must have irritated it and reopened the wound during the ride out. "I'm glad you're safe," he whispered to Sarah as she watched from the corner, looking as if she was going to faint. She had always been a bit squeamish around blood. However, Abigail had come straight to his side, knowing just what to do to stop the bleeding.

  "I'm alright. I just need to catch my breath," Sarah said, taking a long breath through her nose.

  "Sarah has not been feeling well since we had to make our escape. I think she went into shock, and then the long carriage ride did not help settle her." Abig
ail turned to Sarah as she picked up another bandage, "Would you mind fetching me a pitcher of water, Sarah?"

  "Of course," Sarah replied, no doubt glad of the distraction.

  Abigail turned back to Thomas and touched his forehead lightly, examining the skin around the wound. "I'm glad you are alright. That is, I'm glad you are alive if not totally unscathed. We were worried sick," she whispered. "It was foolish of you to ride all the way out here in your condition. How many ribs have you cracked? Or are they broken?"

  Thomas tried to straighten, looking for a position where he could find some relief for his aching ribcage. "They feel like they are broken. My lungs feel like they are on fire every time I take a breath." He winced as he tried to take a deep breath. Her gentle touch sent butterflies whirling in his stomach. She was so beautiful. Was she aware of how she made him feel?

  "There," she said, finishing with his eye. "You'll want to lie down for a while. We can talk more when you've rested."

  Thomas glanced at Sarah, expecting to feel guilty for allowing Abigail to tend him instead of her. Would she be jealous, watching how tenderly Abigail cared for him? Instead, what he saw in her eyes was regret. Sarah lowered her gaze and wiped at a solitary tear. When she looked up again, she gave him a quivering smile. "Well, I'll let you two talk for a moment."

  Abigail looked as if that was the last thing she wanted. "You don't have to leave, Sarah. Please, stay." Was Abigail afraid to be alone with him after what had happened in the study?

  "No, it's alright. I'll see you later on this morning," Sarah said and left the room. Abigail's mother appeared in the doorway, a sour expression on her face.

  "Abigail!" she whispered harshly, motioning her over with a spindly finger. "What is that man doing in my house?"

  Abigail gave him an apologetic look. "This is Lord Brampton, Mother." Abigail introduced them and then took her mother out into the hall for a moment. However, Thomas could overhear everything that was said.

  "I don't care if he is the Duke of Wellington. I don't like that a strange man is in the house. How do you know him? What is he doing here, showing up in this state and upsetting the household?"

  Abigail's voice sounded angry as they talked out in the hall. "He is a friend from London, Mother, and I'll thank you not to be rude. He's ridden a long way and has been wounded. He'll be staying here for the next few days, or for however long it takes for him to recover."

  He heard her mother scoff at this idea, but Abigail would allow no argument on the subject. Abigail returned and asked him to stand.

  He was about to apologise when Abigail interrupted her mother. "Go back to bed, Mother. It can't be helped now."

  The hall boy came back, crashing loudly through the kitchen door. He was out of breath, looking like he'd run all the way to the doctor's house and back. "I'm sorry, Miss, but the doctor will not be able to come for several hours. His wife said he's out delivering a baby."

  Abigail sighed tiredly and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Lord Brampton, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait for the good doctor. At least come into the drawing-room and lie down on the couch. I'm sorry we haven't an extra bed for you to sleep in, but the cottage only has three bedrooms."

  Thomas stood, sucking in a breath. "Please don't worry yourself. I'll be quite comfortable on a lounge chair, if you have one." He limped towards the door and flashed Abigail's mother a charming smile. Her face did not budge from its acid grimace. She stepped out of the way, allowing Abigail to lead him to the drawing-room. A fire was already blazing in the hearth. It would not take long for the small room to heat up to a cozy temperature, and for that, Thomas was glad. Shivering hurt all the more with his injured ribs.

  Abigail helped Thomas walk to the lounge chair, and he lay back on it under her mother's watchful eye. She situated a pillow behind his back, asking if he was comfortable.

  "Yes, that is better, thank you," he said. He could tell her mother was none too pleased at having their home invaded by a strange man. He could not blame her really. He would not feel comfortable having an unfamiliar person barge into his home in the middle of the night, either. "I'm sorry if I've made trouble for you," he whispered to Abigail, hoping that her mother wouldn't overhear. She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she fetched a blanket draped over the sofa.

  "Nonsense. Mother is easily upset," she winked and spread the blanket over his legs. "Rest now. We'll talk more in a few hours." She brushed the hair away from his forehead as if he were a child, studying the bandage once more. He captured her hand and kissed her palm. She instantly coloured, sadness flashing through her eyes. He would do anything to make that look disappear. "Good night." She stepped away quickly, leaving a solitary candle burning on the side table. He leaned over and blew it out when she was gone. He could hear her and her mother arguing in the next room, her mother afraid that he was going to rob her blind.

  "None of this belongs to you, Mother. These are all Aunt Beatrice's things. Besides, I trust him. He is a man of honor and he saved our lives tonight." He could hear Abigail vouching for him once more. "Now, we have all had a very long night. I would like to get a few hours’ sleep before the day begins. Good night, Mother." Abigail's impatient tone must have made her mother angry, for a few moments later he heard the door creak open and then slam shut. A light bobbed up and down in the hall as her mother went to her room. Plopping his head back on the small pillow, he let his mind drift off. It felt good not to be jostling around on horseback.

  Sleep overtook him quickly, even though it was hard for him to draw breath without pain. His body had undergone so much trauma in the last few hours that he probably could have fallen asleep on the ground. His sleep was interrupted by dreams, however. He was back at the ball with Abigail by his side. But instead of Filmore trying to keep Sarah under lock and key, he had Abigail. He was threatening her, with a knife pressed against her throat, yelling for him to back away. There was nothing he could do to save her, and at the last second he watched as Filmore sliced her beautiful white throat…

  Screaming filled his mind as the ballroom erupted in chaos. He woke up from the dream with difficulty, his mind warring against waking so soon after falling asleep. He blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark room. His heart was thudding, and he took a shallow breath as he tried to calm down. He realised that he still heard screaming. He sat up slowly and tried to clear his nightmare-fogged senses. Where was that coming from?

  "Thomas!" someone was calling for him. "Help me! Thomas!!"

  "Sarah?" he called back as he recognised her voice. What was going on? He stood and stumbled through the house, finding his scabbard resting on a chair near the lounge. He unsheathed his sword and made his way out into the hall. Bumping into a side table in the dark, he let out a pained yelp.

  "Shut up, you worthless cow." Thomas recognised Filmore's voice as he growled his threat at Sarah. He could tell she was crying as he pulled her towards the front door.

  "Let her go!" Thomas bellowed, coming up behind Filmore in the hallway. There was just enough light to see that Filmore had a knife to Sarah's throat. Dawn was approaching, and Thomas knew that he would need the light on his side if he was going to get Sarah and Abigail out of this unscathed. "I said let her go, Filmore. If that even is your real name."

  Filmore turned around slowly, a wicked grin pasted on his face. "She is my wife, Brampton. I know my rights, and the law says I can discipline my wife in any way I see fit," he slurred. On top of being crazy, he was also drunk. Getting Sarah away from him was not going to be easy.

  "Not with violence. Not like this, Filmore. Let her go or suffer the consequences." Thomas tried to remain calm. But then Abigail appeared, with one of Filmore's henchmen pressing a blade to her throat as well. He gulped, his heart twisting. He gazed at Abigail momentarily, wishing that he could spare her this terror. Filmore was going to pay for this, even if it was the last thing Thomas ever did.

  "Ahh, so it's the other wench that you're truly c
oncerned for, is it?" Filmore asked, noticing his reaction to seeing Abigail with a knife pressed dangerously close to her skin. Thomas' nightmare was unfolding in front of his very eyes. He had to do something! Filmore moved to his friend’s side, took Abigail's arm, and then traded Sarah over to his guardianship. Filmore was playing with Thomas now.