by Bryn Donovan
“So, a week in the country should do the trick then.” James gave Colin a grin. “Relax, Cousin. You shall have a house full of ginger children, of that I have no doubt.”
Colin wished he had James’s confidence in the future. He adored Serena, but he could not help feeling as if she had not let him truly get to know her. She always seemed reserved somehow as if she were holding her breath and waiting.
“Do you think that her sister will be at the next ball?” James asked around a mouthful of pie, and Colin grimaced at his cousin.
Colin teased, “I might tell you if you promise not to eat in front of her like that.”
“Sorry,” James said with a laugh as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.
Colin shook his head at his cousin. “I believe that Serena said her sister would be at the ball tomorrow evening. Have you set your sights on her?”
“I merely find her pleasant company.” James laid his napkin down and eyed Colin with annoyance. “I can be friends with a woman.”
“Yes, you can,” Colin agreed, “but you rarely ever converse with women, so it is an oddity.”
James picked up his fork and shook it at Colin. “Do not start with all your theories. It is merely two people who like each other’s company.”
“Oh, she likes your company now, does she?” Colin chuckled at the look his cousin gave him. “Peace, Cousin. I do not wish to be stabbed with a fork. I am merely jesting.”
James grumbled, “You jest much in the same way my mother does.”
“Is she back on her feet yet?” Colin found the woman’s saga with her ankle amusing as the weeks stretched on, but he could see that James clearly did not find it so.
James bobbed his head, causing his unruly hair to bounce. “Mind you she is not happy about it, but the doctor told her she would lose circulation in her foot if she did not get up on it.”
“I do not know if that is medically sound advice, but if it got her up on her feet, then I heartily agree with it,” Colin replied with a grin.
James grunted. “Yes. The servants are happy not to have to push her everywhere as well.”
Abigail sat at her desk. She had been writing to Marie Ann or attempting to for the last hour. She did not know what to do, and she had no one here to confide in.
Her family needed her to be a loyal daughter, and she wanted to protect them, yet her love for Colin grew by the day. Could she be content with a love built upon a lie?
Abigail’s heart was torn between the love of her family and the love of her husband. Why did the two loyalties have to be at odds? Abigail put her head into her hands.
At any point during the ceremony, Abigail could have been truthful. Yet she had remained silent because selfishly she had wanted to be with the Duke so badly that it blinded her to just how horribly it could all go wrong. Now that she was faced with having to live as her sister or bring detriment on her family, Abigail did not know which way the wind blew.
Marie Ann had always been a good friend and a wise counsel. She could give Abigail wisdom from an outside perspective. Abigail desperately needed to see the situation from a new light.
She peeked at her letter. It was rambling and distraught, but it outlined everything that had happened and begged for advice. She would mail it as quickly as she could, and hopefully by the time the last ball was upon them, she would have her answer from Marie Ann.
Abigail folded the letter and sealed it in an envelope. She would give it to a maid to be sent out with the Duke’s letters. Abigail breathed a bit easier as she addressed the envelope care of her sister, careful to write Abigail instead of Serena.
She pulled the cord in her room to summon a maid. A couple of minutes later a little maid was at her door. “You rang, Your Grace?”
Abigail smiled at the maid, whose name she had not learned yet. “Yes. I should like to post a letter.” She held out the envelope to the maid who took it with an almost nervous nod. “Thank you so much.”
The maid dipped into a curtsey and then disappeared out the door before Abigail could say anything further. Abigail shook her head. And here she thought she was jittery?
She sat down at her desk and opened the book she had placed there when she had decided to start writing. Abigail felt more at peace for the moment at least. She breathed in a sigh as she settled at her desk.
She had her own set of rooms where she could retire when she needed time alone. Although she was expected to sleep in her marriage bed at night, she still had her own bed and sitting room. It had taken Abigail a week or two to feel comfortable enough to spend time in her rooms without pondering if she were being rude.
Truth was most of the household was busy enough during the day not to notice her whereabouts. Even her mother-in-law was out most days socialising. Abigail was grateful the woman had not yet latched onto the idea of pulling her along for those visits.
Christina had received word from the maid she had bribed at the Honeyfield estate. The little café where she was reminded her very much of the time her mother had taken her to Paris. She liked to come and sit at the tables the owner had set up outside under a canopy.
She looked up at the sound of feet. The maid was a petite little thing but smarter than she looked. The girl had draped a coat over her uniform not to attract as much attention.
Christina looked up and smiled at the woman. “Melody, you are looking well. I trust you have brought me here to give me some good news.”
Melody sat down and glanced around nervously before she produced an envelope. “I did as you asked and have been watching for any correspondence that Her Grace sent out. This is the first one that I have seen.”
“You did well,” Christina said with a pleased smile. She took the envelope from the nervous girl. She cracked the wax seal open with her butter knife and pulled out the letter.
Christina only had to scan the letter to know it was exactly what she needed. “Perfect,” she whispered. The maid was still waiting, and Christina fetched a few coins from her purse. She slid the coins across the table to the maid. “My deepest gratitude, Melody. Do keep me informed if you find out anything else.”
“Yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss.” Melody quickly pocketed the coins and was off down the street. Christina did not take offence to the woman’s swift exit. No doubt she had to get back to her duties in the Honeyfield household.
Christina looked down at the letter which told of the duplicity of the new Duchess of Richmond. “I have you now, Duchess,” Christina whispered with a smile.
There was a ball the following evening, and she intended on going to Duke Honeyfield now that she had evidence and not merely just her word that the Duchess was lying about who she was. The days of Serena, or was it, Abigail, being Duchess were swiftly dwindling even if the woman was unaware of it. Soon Christina would be right where the lying Duchess stood now.
“I wish we could go together, but alas duty calls one last time,” Colin said with a smile at Abigail.
She heaved a sigh. “Well, I do not suppose that there is anything I can do about it. I shall just have to entertain myself until you arrive.”
“Do not make me jealous,” Colin teased as he pulled her to him. Although they had kissed and touched, he still had not yet got her to submit to being fully his wife.
Abigail laughed. “You are a jealous sort?”
“Not normally,” Colin confessed. “However, you seem to bring out all sorts of sides of me that I had no idea existed.”
Abigail gave her husband a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I could say the same.”
“Pray, do not start, dear wife, or we may both miss our obligations.” Colin’s voice was soft and full of mischief.
Abigail trusted his restraint and teased back to him, “You would never forgo our duties, Your Grace, even if I begged.”
“You might see a wholly different side of me if you truly did beg,” Colin said with a chuckle.
Abigail felt her face warm, but she did not mind. Colin seemed to very
much like making her blush. What made her husband happy truly could not be so bad.
“Just promise that you shall arrive at some point during the ball,” Abigail said as she straightened her husband’s collar.
Colin nodded. “Oh, I shall be there.”
“I just pray that I can decide on what to wear,” Abigail said with a grin.
Colin lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug. “Whatever you wear will look wonderful on you. Now, I had better get going if I want to make the ball.”
“Get on with you then,” Abigail said with a grin and a wave of her hand. “I have no wish to endure a ball without you.”
“It is nice to be needed,” Colin replied. He gave her a kiss before he sighed. Abigail gave him a little wave, and Colin gave her a wink in return.
Abigail clutched her hands to her chest after he had left and sighed contentedly. She might be worried over whether she should tell him the truth, but she never worried about how she felt about him. Now if she could only be certain that what he felt was for her alone.
The ball was in full swing as Serena stood talking with her father. The man seemed to never leave her side, and it was frustrating her to no end. Her parents had increasingly been restrictive with her as punishment for what they deemed her sin.
“If you would just give the man a chance, then you might find him amicable.” Lord Grey held himself straight and tall, his hands clutched behind his back as he surveyed the dance floor.
Serena huffed. It had taken her parents precious little time to be pressuring her to meet suitors of their choosing. They called themselves listening, but all they were listening to was the sound of their own voices.
It seemed to Serena that her own thoughts did not matter. “I do not suppose it matters if I find him appealing at all.”
“You used up your choices when you pulled that stunt with your sister,” Lord Grey countered keeping his voice low.
Serena rounded on her father, her hands on her hips. “Is that your answer for everything? Does it not occur to you that you and Mother did not ask me if I wanted to marry the Duke?”
Lord Grey gave her a scolding glance. “Quiet your voice.”
She ground her teeth together. Serena whispered, “I will not marry him.”
“Fine. I shall find another.” Lord Grey’s face looked unmoved by his daughter’s words.
Serena threw her hands up into the air. “What do I have to do to get you to understand? I want to travel, Father. What is one year?”
“One year? Try the rest of your life,” Lord Grey ground out. “This is your bed, Serena, and you have to lie in it.”
Serena flew into a rage. She did not care where she was or who heard her. “I did not even want to get married! I did not know him, how could I like him? How could I love him?”
Lord Grey gave her a warning look. “Careful what you say, Serena.”
Serena clamped her mouth closed. She had no need to cause more harm, but reining in her emotions was hard when she had kept them bottled up for so long. She folded her arms and looked away from her father.
Colin had just entered when he spotted his father-in-law talking with one of the twins. He started towards them when their voices rose enough that he could hear the girl saying she had not wanted to get married. It was not until his father-in-law warned her to be careful that he realised he was talking with Serena.
He felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. Serena had not wanted to marry him? Could she truly have only been acting like she loved him?
Colin turned blindly, not sure where to go, but sure that he did not want to talk to his wife at that moment. This perhaps was his punishment for hurting Lady Talbert, for so misunderstanding the woman’s intentions. Now he got to feel that feeling of betrayal first-hand.
It was then that Lady Talbert approached him. “Your Grace, a moment of your time?”
Numbly, Colin looked at the woman. “What is it that you want, Lady Talbert?” He thought it appropriate that the woman would appear at his lowest point to humiliate him.
“Your Grace, despite all that has happened between us, I felt I had to warn you.” She held out an envelope. “I have evidence that your wife is not who she says she is. I could not let this duplicity go on anymore.”
Colin looked at the envelope and at the woman holding it. “I do not want to read that, or to hear any more. Leave me be.”
“Your Grace—” Lady Talbert started to say, but Colin cut her off with a wave of his hand.
He turned blindly towards the entrance and left. Colin could stand no more of this. Perhaps he deserved it, but he was not strong enough to face it in public.
Abigail arrived at the ball and spotted Colin. She lifted her hand to him, but Colin just passed her without acknowledging her. She called out after him.
Confused she spotted Serena and rushed over to her sister. “What is wrong with my husband? What did you do?”
Serena’s face held a look of confusion at Abigail’s words which was soon replaced by a look of horror. “Oh, no. He must have overheard us.”
Abigail looked at her sister. “Overheard what?”
Serena’s mortified expression did nothing to calm Abigail’s fears. “Father was pressuring me to meet this suitor he had found.”
“And?” Abigail had never known Serena to beat around the bush.
Serena tugged on Abigail’s dress sleeve, and they quickly made their way into a hallway away from the crowds. She relayed what had been said followed by, “I am so sorry. I did not even see him.”
“If Father called you Serena then he likely thinks it was me talking,” Abigail said as she covered her face. “No wonder he left without acknowledging me. He thought I was you.”
Tears welled up in Serena’s eyes. Abigail shook her head. “What was I thinking getting into this mess?”
“You were thinking of love,” Serena reminded Abigail. “Besides it is my fault, not yours.”
“I could have refused, Serena. The blame does not lie strictly with you.” Abigail would not stand for Serena taking all this on her shoulders. She was just as much to blame, after all.
Serena wiped away a tear and drew in a breath. “What do we do now? We shall have to tell Father.”
Abigail felt numbness settle over her. What did it matter what they did? “I have lost him.”
“Do not say that,” Serena admonished.
Abigail laughed at the madness of the world. “Why not? It is true. Do you think he will love me now?”
“Love is not rational, you taught me that,” Serena reminded her.
Be that as it may, Abigail could feel no hope for the situation. He was hurt now, but when the truth came out, and it undoubtedly would about the full extent of the situation, then he would not only be furious but repulsed. “I shall have to live with the consequences of this, Serena. I would rather get used to that than to live in some fairy tale.”
“We should have been honest from the start. You should have been the one matched with the Duke, not me. You were made for him and him for you.” Serena shook her head. “We shall go forth in honesty from this moment on.”
Abigail nodded slowly. “We shall,” Abigail promised her sister. “No matter what happens, I do not blame you.”
“Nor I you,” Serena replied.
They embraced each other and cried a little for their mutual foolishness. When they parted, Abigail whispered, “Sorry I stole your husband.”
“I am sorry that I lost him for you,” Serena whispered back. She stomped her foot. “No. You cannot give up.”
“What is there to do?” Abigail lifted her hands helplessly. “I know of nothing that I can do.”
Serena squared her shoulders and flipped her auburn braid behind her. “Perhaps there is nothing you can do, but together we can go to your Duke.”
“And do what? Hasten the humiliation of it all?”
Serena shook her head at Abigail. “You love him, do you not?”
“With al
l my heart,” Abigail whispered.
Serena took her hand. “Then what are we waiting for? Let us go to him. Let us fight for your love. If we lose, then so be it, but we shall not just simply submit to defeat. That is not how we were raised.”
Abigail smiled at her sister. “I do not know if it will do much good, but I suppose it could do little harm.”
Serena slipped her arm through Abigail’s arm. “Then together we go.”
“Together,” Abigail echoed.
Abigail and Serena exited their carriage with haste. The doorman at the estate greeted them with raised eyebrows. “Thomas,” Abigail said with familiarity. “Is my husband in? He left in a hurry, and I was worried that he was ill.”
Thomas nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. He is in his study.”
Serena followed Abigail and thought the title of Duchess suited her very well. Her feral sister had definitely blossomed in the role of wife. They made their way towards the study, but outside the door, Abigail hesitated.
She looked at Serena with fear in her eyes. Serena gave her a nod to encourage her. “Go on,” she whispered. “It is better to do it quickly like pulling brambles out of your hair.”
“Brambles hurt,” Abigail reminded her.
Serena put her hand on Abigail’s shoulder. “Love is never without the risk of pain.” She reached over and knocked on the door as it was clear Abigail would not, or could not do so.
A male voice that did not sound like the Duke called back, “The Duke does not wish to be disturbed!”
Serena drew in a deep breath and turned the knob on the door. She entered first. She saw Lord Balfour and the Duke look at her in surprise. The pain in the Duke’s eyes brought tears to her eyes.
“I think there has been a misunderstanding,” Serena said softly. “I brought your wife.” Serena pushed the door open wider and pulled Abigail through the doorway.