It was then that Emma burst into tears. “It was time. We kept it quiet for so long. It was time, Abby. I have Sebastian. Who cares about the stupid marriage contract?”
Rawlings had at one point been betrothed to Emma but ripped up the marriage contract upon finding her in a compromising situation with his half-brother. Never mind that the half-brother’s intent was to rape her sister. The entire thing had been a cover-up so that the Gates’ family name would stay away from ruin, so that Rawlings could be free to live the life he’d always wanted. A life free of contracts, marriages, and obligations.
But hadn’t he changed? He wasn’t the same man? Was everything some giant scheme to get Abigail too?
“Forgive me, but, Abby, has he…” Emma looked away, tears rolling down her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Has he ruined you, fully, in the way that—”
“Stop!” Abigail’s voice sounded foreign, broken. “No, he would never—we would never.” Could a heart stop beating? Was it possible to be so overjoyed in one minute and nearing death’s door the next? Abigail tried to still her breath, but she found the harder she tried, the harder it was to breathe. Bending over, she grasped the back of the chair. As the last part of her breath hitched in her chest, black boots came into view. Was she falling? And then she was lifted, as if floating on a cloud. Was she dying? Was this how her short life would end? Without ever knowing a man, but knowing the pain of loving something so much it killed a person? Had she not learned her lesson?
Warm hands cupped her face. A voice man’s voice echoed in the distance. And then as her eyes closed she saw Rawlings’ face. She wanted to hate him, to spit at him, but she could do nothing but cry. Warm salty tears plastered her cheeks and blurred her vision when she tried to open her eyes again until she thought she would wish for death. The man she loved, the only man she had loved—was gone. And he had her bleeding heart with him. Why did she hear voices? Why couldn’t she open her eyes? And then a sharp pain struck her head. Everything went black.
In her dreams he kissed her, made love to her, as much as she could imagine considering she was still a virgin, and then he would kiss her face and laugh. She was always too slow to catch up to him, her legs weren’t fast enough. And then she was back home again, he was helping her onto his horse. But the next minute he was mocking her while he kissed and grabbed at another woman.
“No!” Abigail’s screams were real, they were coming out of her mouth, but she could only see darkness. And then a hand braced her.
Abigail shot up from her bed in a panic and looked around the room. Darkness had descended into her bedroom. Her eyes adjusted to the black slowly. The fire crackled across the room. Lifting a shaky hand to her head she realized it was bandaged.
“What?” Abigail felt around the bandages. Heavens, why was her head bandaged? The last thing she remembered before the nightmare was fainting. Had she hit something?
“Oh goodness, you’re awake!” Emma rushed into the room. “I’ve been so worried. You’ve been sleeping all day, dearest.”
“I don’t understand?”
“You fainted. I wasn’t fast enough to catch you. The table broke your fall. You hit your head so hard, there was blood everywhere. I didn’t…” Emma began softly crying into her hands. “Sebastian arrived just in time. The doctor, of course, said you would recover, but oh I just– I cannot imagine anything happening to you.”
Abigail nodded. “And Rawlings?”
Emma froze. Abigail watched her sister's breath hitch. “Still missing it seems. Though Sebastian said one of the servants mentioned he had arrived at the house to pack a few things before taking off. He was in a true rush, Abigail. I’m sorry. It also appears that the rumors are getting worse. We’ve had our fair share of afternoon callers in hopes to gain information about your betrothal. Father isn’t aware of the situation just yet, and I don’t know what to say. I cannot keep turning people away. It makes everything look worse. And poor Sebastian wants to murder him.”
As the words penetrated into her heart, she realized she had awoken to a real nightmare. Rawlings, the man who held her heart in the palm of his hand, had abandoned her. He really was the devil everyone said. And at one and eight, she was ruined for any other man. How could a girl love anyone without the one thing needed in order to engage in such an emotion? One’s heart.
Chapter Eighteen
Was that Whitmore this author spied leaving the Rawlings’ estate yesterday afternoon? Curious that such a man would visit Rawlings’ house without his presence. For this author has it on good authority that the now wealthy Lord Rawlings was busy with his solicitor most of the afternoon. Fishy indeed, and did it also appear that one of the servants was handing an envelope to our rakish marquess? Mark my words, dear readers. Trouble is afoot.
—Mrs. Peabody’s Society papers
Phillip hated to be so hasty, and only hoped that the letter he had left for Abigail would explain enough. He’d been away from all the estates for years. Once he left the solicitor’s office, he was overwhelmed with the responsibility. How had all of those tenants survived so long without him? Had his mother even visited? Or taken care of them during the hard winters?
Feeling cruel and bitter, he stopped at his townhome to pen a quick note to be delivered to the Tempest residence as soon as possible.
He then grabbed what things he would need for the next four days and took off like a shot from a pistol. People depended on him, and for once in his life he felt a purpose welling up within him. Suddenly proud, he couldn’t help but smile the entire way to his first estate in Essex. The rain poured and this time, with a laugh, Phillip lifted his eyes heavenward and enjoyed the cool wet drops as they poured purposefully down his face. With each raindrop he felt his new life emerging, as if he was nothing but a shadow of himself before.
He had love and his father had never intended for him to live the way he had. His bitterness had done nothing but keep him from his destiny, from his happiness. The cool water splashed and spilled over his chin, cleansing him.
It seemed, in that moment, that the devil of a man was forever gone, and in his place was a man truly redeemed.
Abigail.
The name hung in the air. He needed to see her, to speak to her. But she would understand. She’d always believed in him. Hadn’t she loved him when he was at his worst?
She might be a trifle upset that he didn’t hand deliver the letter, but in all honesty he knew if he was to bring it she would stop at nothing until he allowed her to accompany him, and he couldn’t have her with him while he traveled in the wet, murky countryside.
Four days later, and utterly exhausted, Phillip hardly had any energy left, but he had to see her. For three nights she had haunted his dreams, and for three nights he had awoken with unfulfilled need. His body burning with unquenched desire from the siren.
It was more than torture to have to wait the hour before he was back in the city. Even though he looked worse for the wear, he jumped from the curricle and pounded on the Tempest townhome, ready to scale the walls if they didn’t make haste and open the blasted door.
The butler answered, and for once did not look behind Phillip to make sure nobody was the wiser to his presence, but took it upon himself to slam the door in Phillip’s face.
Had the world gone mad?
He knocked again and shouted, “What in the blazes is wrong with you? Do you know who I am? Let me in!”
The door opened so fast it nearly knocked him down the three steps behind him.
“You must have some nerve!” Sebastian fumed.
“Nerve? To knock on your door? Funny, I would call it common sense, unless you’d rather I scale the wall or crawl in through the window. Whatever is wrong with you, Seb? You look awful.”
“I’m going to give you two minutes to take your lying presence off my property before I get my pistol.”
Sebastian’s face was tired and worn. His eyes looked sullen, and dark purple bruises seemed to mar the skin underneath his eyes. The duke looked like death, leaving Phillip to assume the worst. Something had happened to Emma.
“Where is she? What happened?” Trying to offer support, he braced Sebastian, but was pushed away with a curse.
“She is fine, no thanks to you. What did you think would happen, Phillip? You disappeared for days after the announcement was made. Everyone knows you only used Abigail to get back at Emma and me. The devil only knows why you would feel the need to stoop so low. And to bring poor Abigail into this. She loves you, stupid sod that you are, and you run away.”
Phillip’s gut twisted. Feeling sicker by the minute, he could only stand and stare. “Believe me when I tell you, I have no idea what you are talking about. I love Abigail. I want to marry her. Four days ago I received permission to do so. And it’s going to take a whole lot more than your sorry presence and false accusations to get me to cry off.”
Sebastian squinted. “You love her?”
“Yes, I love her! You fool! Why else would I travel for days, making sure the estates weren’t in such a sorry shamble? What would take a normal man weeks took me days. I had to get back to see her. To marry her. Didn’t you receive my letter?”
“I believe we should continue this conversation inside.”
Phillip pushed past him. “Agreed.” Turning around, he noted that Sebastian truly had a pistol in his hand. “Devil take it man! Were you going to shoot me?”
The fact that Sebastian paused before answering, “No,” made Phillip want to curse.
“How would that have solved anything?”
“Oh, it would have solved everything, for I wouldn’t have to feel like a blasted cad every time I looked into Abigail’s face. I wouldn’t have to hear her sobbing through the night, or the dark nightmares that seem to plague her during her waking hours. Believe me, it would have solved everything.”
Phillip cursed. “Please tell me Abigail doesn’t believe I abandoned her?”
Sebastian winced.
“I think it’s best you tell me what you’ve heard about my absence.” Phillip was itching to push past Sebastian and run up the stairs in search of Abigail. Torn between telling the love of his life that he wanted her more than oxygen and hearing why Sebastian wanted to shoot him was pure torture.
“Abigail isn’t awake, Phillip. It seems that she hasn’t been sleeping, so she’s taking an afternoon nap. She also managed to faint and hit her head quite hard on the table. With a gash the size of my finger across the back of her head it’s a shock her recovery hasn’t taken longer.”
Phillip darted toward the door.
“Wait,” Sebastian said. “Sit. Let us discuss things first. It appears someone has been spreading rumors about your whereabouts.”
Phillip wanted nothing more than to tell Sebastian to go to the devil while he ran up the stairs to make sure the precious girl was truly unharmed, but instead he sat. For Sebastian did not appear to take well to his presence, which could mean only one thing.
“My stepmother has been busy, has she not?” Phillip said more than asked.