“What guest is that?”
Cortland confirmed her suspicions. “It’s ‘Is ‘Ighness, Prince George, the royal duke,” he whispered back in a confidential fashion. “Didn’t look too royal to me, though. Just like a fat general I once saw down on the docks, you know?”
“Thank you, Cortland,” she said to the very un-butler-like butler. Suddenly, she was on pins and needles wondering what was being said behind closed doors.
It wouldn’t take long to find out. Since bad luck had been dogging her heels all morning, she should have known that her proclivity toward rotten timing that morning wouldn’t stop with just Jack at the stair case and Harry at her front door.
No, unfortunately, the occupants of the dining room chose that moment to exit that room with all of them standing right there.
Chapter 33
Drawing on my fine command of the language,
I said nothing.
~ Mark Twain
“What is going on here? What are ye doing here?” the Earl of Haddington’s voice boomed out seconds later, the second question accompanied by a dark frown directed at Jack.
Silence fell almost comically over the room as everyone looked to another to say something or anything to return the strange morning to a more normal one. Abby swore she could almost hear her heart pounding over the pall of silence. There they were: Jack locked in a silent battle of the wills with their father. Cambridge looking rather confused, but of course, he truly didn’t know what was going on at all. Richard, well, he was still glowering at Harry as if the look could make his would-be rival simply disappear from the face of the earth. Harry was grinning back shamelessly. Francis stood near the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest while Cortland was…was he looking at the earl’s rear end?
It struck her suddenly, the absurdity of it all and she couldn’t bite back the entirety of the giggle that escaped her. The choked sound turned everyone’s eyes to her, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from smiling. Suddenly, Richard was grinning as well, as was Harry. Reaching out, Richard took her hand in his, offering an encouraging squeeze.
“Well,” Harry announced in a jocular voice, slapping his crop again his thigh. “I can see that I have no role in the calamity that is about to commence, so I shall take my leave.” He swept a bow to them all before replacing his hat at a jaunty angle. “Your Highness. Lady Abygail, my dear,” he said, taking her hand—the one Richard wasn’t holding—and ignoring him all the while. “I shall come again another day.”
“Aye, like a dark raincloud,” Richard murmured, but Harry just smiled.
“Just so, Captain, just so. Farewell all.”
The door closing behind him seemed to break the spell that held them all. Jack spoke, answering their father with the same lie Abby had used on Aylesbury moments before. “You needn’t worry that I’m here to stay, father. I was just escorting Abby home. She…er, walked over to visit me early this morning to talk. Glenrothes offered his carriage to see her home safely.”
Abby felt her father’s eyes on her, his skepticism, but between her hair tidily up and neatly tucked blouse, there wasn’t much evidence for him to find a reason to argue. But she stood proud. She would never hide gain.
“She’s safe, now get out.”
“What’s all this, Angus?” Cambridge asked.
“Nothing, George, nothing at all,” Haddington grumbled. “Let me see you out.”
Abby’s heart jumped. She wasn’t about to let that happen without knowing what had been said between them. Boldly, she stepped in front of Cambridge, uncomfortably aware that she was shabbily dressed in the presence of royalty and dropped a deep curtsy.
“Your Highness, good morning. I didn’t know you were coming this morning. Did you need to talk with Father about anything important?”
“Important?” Cambridge responded in his abrasive grumble to her brazen question. He scratched his whiskers thoughtfully as if he were still trying to make sense of the scene before him. An early morning gathering of four gentlemen for one lady in the front hall was most unusual, after all. “No, just catching up on old times. Nothing really.”
“Truly, nothing of importance? Nothing at all?” She cast a questioning look at her father, who met her gaze stonily. She couldn’t read him at all.
“Why do you ask?”
Abby glanced at her father once more. She needed to know if he had asked or not. Not just for Richard’s sake, but for hers as well. She wanted to marry Richard, to have him as hers for the rest of her days. If her father hadn’t interceded on their behalf yet, Richard had a perfect opportunity before him to do it himself, thereby freeing her from her bargain with her father. Her heart skipped giddily.
“Your Highness, I was hoping I might introduce these gentlemen to you?”
The royal duke nodded, and Abby introduced first Francis, then Richard before reminding Cambridge of her brother’s identity as they had met many years before. The brothers bowed slightly to the royal general before offering their hands for him to shake.
“Glenrothes?” Cambridge repeated with a frown as he studied Francis and then Richard. “Where have I heard that name?”
“Perhaps my father mentioned it while you were dining, your highness,” Abby hinted, trying one last time for some indication that her father had followed through on their bargain.
“No, no,” the duke shook his head. “Indeed, why should he? Ah, I remember now. CB mentioned you to me,” he directed this to Francis. “He told me some cock and bull story about a group of spies being captured in Egypt.”
“It was no tall tale, General,” Richard spoke up. “It was my unit that was captured. My brother has been helping me in petitioning those with the authority to set out a search for the others. We had hoped you might be able to help.”
Cambridge straightened with all his military bearing and leveled Richard with a direct stare. The look of a general for his underling. Abby was proud of Richard as he met the look calmly for the duke was an imposing presence even without his uniform and many medals. He was tall and burly with a paunchy stomach, balding head, and fluffy muttonchops. Even so, he was a prince, and his royal blood and arrogance were obvious.
“Captain, I’ve looked into this matter since speaking with the former secretary. We can find no one who was aware of such a mission,” Cambridge told him. “I had determined it was nothing more than some fabrication.”
“Palmer was aware, General,” Richard said. “So far, it appears he is the only one who will admit to it. If you would speak with him, I’m sure he could explain to you where the authorization for the mission originated.”
“Perhaps you didn’t know, Palmer resigned his office earlier week,” Cambridge told him.
Both Francis and Richard drew in shocked breaths. They had heard nothing of it from any of the others they had been talking to. Francis looked to Richard who could only shake his head in bemusement.
“Surely you can see that as a sign that Palmer is trying to hide from the backlash his blunder, your highness?” Francis said. “My brother and his unit were acting on direct orders. It should not matter where they came from. They were not at fault.”
“No, that is true.” Cambridge nodded. He was a military traditionalist. To him the chain of command was everything. “And, generally, I would agree with you, but regardless of who the fool was who ordered such folly, if indeed it was ordered, we cannot take a public stand on this, Glenrothes. You sit in the House. You must understand that such a thing would be an open admission that we were where we shouldn’t be to begin with and our relationship with Egypt’s nationalists is tentative at best. There are those who would still like to see the Empire and her influence gone from Egypt.”
“But, begging your pardon, General, does any of that really matter?” Richard asked incredulously. By all accounts, the duke was a commander who had a care for his soldiers. This dismissal was the last thing he had expected. “The order was given and executed. You ca
nnot, in good conscience, leave them out there to rot.”
“Are you questioning my authority, Captain?”
In respectful tones, Richard said simply, “Aye, sir, I am.”
Cambridge puffed out his chest. “Sacrifice must sometimes be made for the greater good. You boys must understand what is at stake here. The image of the Empire, what? The Queen does not stoop to deception and we cannot have it said that she did so when we prefer that our power be seen as direct, formidable. We confront our enemies face-to-face, not by subterfuge.”
“Nay, it seems you will save that for your blunders,” Richard ground out.
“Remember your place, Captain!” Cambridge snapped.
But Richard couldn’t be contained. “You can’t just sweep this under the rug, General.”
Francis and Jack both moved to restrain Richard with calming hands and Richard took a deep breath, forcing himself to step back from Cambridge who also lost some of his steam and seem to deflate. “I understand what you’re saying, Captain, and in many ways, I agree. However, given the tenuous relationship between the Empire and the Egyptian population, I cannot draw attention to such an underhanded mission. I will do what I can to help you unofficially but as commander I cannot issue an order for full military support.”
“What can you do for us if we were to search on our own?” Francis asked.
“Naturally, I cannot sanction such an action, but what you do with your time is your own business.” Cambridge paused as if considering how far he was prepared to go for them. “If you were to say, take a holiday in Egypt, I would think a letter of introduction to the consul might be in order. I could request the consul offer you a base for your travels, horses, supplies and that sort of thing. And a guide. Yes, you’ll need a guide.”
Richard stared blankly at the duke. That was it? That was all his government was prepared to do for its own soldiers? Disavow them and leave them to die? Abby took his hand, offering her support and he met her bright, sad eyes. That was it then.
They were on their own.
Richard and Francis murmured their thanks as sincerely as they could before Cambridge made his exit. Richard stood numbly as if he couldn’t move.
“Richard?” Abby said softly, tugging his hand. “May I speak with you privately for a moment?”
Nodding, he led her into the first room off the foyer, which turned out to be the library.
“Hold on there,” Haddington boomed. “Ye cannae be in there alone.”
“Hang it all, Father,” Jack barked, his voice full of the same devastation Francis and Richard were experiencing. Vincent and Jace were his friends, as well. “Give them five minutes, won’t you?”
* * *
The moment the doors closed behind them, Abby wrapped her arms around Richard and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his chest. His disappointment and sorrow were palpable. She wished she could do something to soothe them away.
His hand cupped the back of her head as he held her to him. He dipped his head to hers, whispering in her ear, “It’s not your fault, angel. It is not what we hoped for, but I should have seen weeks ago that this was coming. Francis and I will go alone…though I pity Palmer if he ever crosses my path again.”
She swallowed a chuckle but could feel his smile as his lips brushed her hair.
“I know it’s not much compensation for what just happened, in response to our conversation before? The answer would be ‘yes’.”
Drawing back, he looked down at her in surprise. “What changed your mind?”
“Nothing changed it,” she denied, not wanting to explain how she had bargained away their possible future with her father. She added truthfully, “I’ve always wanted to marry you. Always. I love you, Richard.”
Bending down, he caught her lips in a kiss so fiercely passionate that Abby could only gasp in surprise before she sank against him. Hanging on tightly to his lapels, she opened her mouth to his onslaught, thrilling as he crushed her tightly against him, lifting her off the ground. He spun her around before setting her back on her feet, grinning down at her. His green eyes were dancing, as if he were truly happy for her consent when the need for a hasty marriage had been all but thrust upon him.
“Shall we go tell your father then?”
Dizzy from both joy and his impulsive twirl, she shook her head as his words sunk in. “Must we, Richard?”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“I needn’t have his consent.”
Richard frowned doubtfully. “Are you ashamed to marry me?”
“Never,” she said fiercely. “I would shout it from the rooftops and if you were to remain here with me for the aftermath of it all, I would do it gladly. I could face anything with you! However, if Oona knew that we wed, we would have no chance of keeping the secret and I don’t relish the thought of facing the gossip and scandal on my own.”
“Come with me then.”
Abby’s heart leapt at his offer. How wonderful it would be to travel with him, to be by his side…if the purpose of their journey was anything other than what it was. There was no chance that she could go with him now. She would only slow them down or, even worse, distract him from his purpose and she told him so.
Richard considered her words. If they wed openly and she came with him, the scandal might die down before they returned. And now that the thought was there, he couldn’t imagine leaving her behind. She had given him so much of what his life was lacking—peace, love. Even contentment. He wanted to carry that with him. Forever.
Caressing her cheek softly, he met her vivid eyes, seeing in them a future filled with life. He smiled at the thought.
But, on the other hand, she was right. A trek through the desert with its harsh climes and conditions was no place for a lady. And she had already proven herself to be a most pleasant distraction. For the sake of his mission and the urgency of it, he would need to leave her behind. The thought pierced his heart with a tender ache but there was also hope. It would be weeks or even months before he saw her again but through it all, there would be so much to look forward to when he returned.
“I will miss you, angel.”
“And I will miss you,” she told him, hugging him once more.
They stood in one another’s embrace for a while, thinking of the future and what it held. Finally, Abby sighed. “Suppose we should go. That silence in the front hall is a bit too ominous, don’t you think?”
Richard squeezed her one last time before releasing her.
She turned, then paused looking back mischievously. “You know, now that I think on it, you didn’t actually ask me to marry you.”
His chest shook with silent laughter. “Nay, I don’t suppose I did.”
She waited but no more words were forthcoming. “Are you going to?”
He laughed again with a shrug. “You’ve always liked to be the one in charge before, are you sure you don’t want to do this as well?”
Abby wasn’t one who couldn’t laugh at herself. She was very aware of her faults, and it pleased her that Richard wouldn’t be one to take offense, but rather tease her about them. Casting him a saucy look, she started to drop to one knee only to squeal with laughter when he grasped her around her waist, lifting her into the air.
He held her above him for a moment, his grin wide with humor and affection. Then he lowered himself down until her feet touched the ground just as he fell to one knee, taking her hand. “Abygail Patrice Merrill…”
“You’re five minutes are long over.” Haddington pounded at the door. “What is going on in there?”
Richard stood just as the door burst open. As much as he wanted to do the proper thing and ask Abby’s father for her hand in marriage, he knew he must respect her opinion as well as her logic that such an event would never remain a secret if Oona ever learned of it. The time would come for him to do those things. To make his courtship and marriage a public one.
“Nothing, sir. Just saying goodbye.”
Squeezing Abby’s hand one last time, he released her and bowed. “Lady Abygail, tomorrow afternoon then?”
She blinked before she understood what he was asking her. “Yes, I shall see at Grandmamma’s and we shall…have tea.”
Richard smiled. “Tea, it is.”
Chapter 34
The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.
~ Charles Dickens from Nicholas Nickleby
Portsmouth, England
Two days later
The battleship that would carry Richard and Francis to Egypt was currently the capital ship assigned the task of patrolling the Suez Canal. It was the pride of the Royal Navy. Richard knew he owed the Prince of Wales his thanks for securing them passage into Egypt. He only wished that there had been another ship available rather than the HMS Devastation.
He couldn’t help but feel the name was a prophetic one. Which part of his life it would apply more aptly to? Devastation was what he had felt when parting Abby’s company early that morning to board the train for Portsmouth.
They had wed the previous afternoon in Belgrave Square with only the bishop Francis had summoned, her grandparents, Francis, and Jack to witness the occasion. The ceremony had been spare, lacking all the frills he knew any lady dreamed of. He regretted that he hadn’t been able to give that to Abby. He’d even had two of his close friends there, while she had no one. There hadn’t been time for Moira to come from Scotland and, though Abby’s friend, Eve, who was now the Countess of Shaftesbury, was invited from Dorset to act as her maid of honor, the countess had sent her regrets citing the recent birth of her son.
Though Abby denied any disappointment with the entire affair, Richard swore that when he returned, he would deliver a courtship and wedding extravagant enough to make her the envy of London. Of course, there would never be another wedding night to best the one they had had. Lady Boughton, much to all the other men’s chagrin, had provided a lavish bridal suite for them. They’d had dinner and even danced to the Blue Danube Waltz courtesy of the music box Abby’s grandmother provided.
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