I have great hopes that we shall
love each other all our lives
as much as if we had never married at all.
— Lord Byron
Not quite two weeks later, Abby watched in mild amusement as a blur of sea-green gown and glorious red hair sailed into the Grosvenor Square mansion drawing room and directly into her husband’s arms.
“Kipp!” the apparition exclaimed, hugging him, being hugged in return. “Oh, how we’ve missed you! And Gillett has just now told us that you’ve married! How wonderful!”
Jack Coltrane entered the room behind his wife, shaking his head affectionately as he watched Kipp lift his wife and spin her around several times before putting her down.
“My lady?” he inquired, politely bowing to Abby. “Please forgive my wife’s restrained and sober entry. She tries so hard to appear enthusiastic, but it has always been so difficult for her to express her emotions.”
“Yes,” Abby replied as she stood up, held out her hand to Kipp’s childhood friend, doing her best to be serious herself. “I can see her problem. Welcome home, Mr. Coltrane. We’ve been expecting you these past weeks, Kipp all but champing at the bit to see you again.”
“Jack, please, if that’s all right with you,” he said, as Abby took in the great height of the man, nearly that of Kipp’s. Hair as black as her own, eyes as green as emeralds. A fitting foil for his wife.
At one time Abby would have felt intimidated by all this physical beauty, but Kipp’s love had given her confidence in her own appearance and, although Abby didn’t realize it, she had actually become more attractive, her love for her husband softening her edges, giving her a glow that only a blind man could not see.
“Jack!” Kipp exclaimed, crossing the room to embrace his friend, the two of them slapping each other’s backs in that hearty way men have of pummeling each other when they meet again after a long absence. “Our note of invitation reached you at the docks, I see. You will stay with us for a few days before returning to the country, won’t you?”
“That we will. These old legs of mine still think we’re bobbing up and down in the water like corks and need a few quiet days to comprehend that we’ve made the transition to solid ground. As our own mansion is in dustsheets, we’d be fools not to accept your hospitality, dear friend,” another voice, a very deep, full-bodied voice supplied as an even taller, broader, darker gentlemen came into the room, carrying a small blanket-covered bundle in his arms.
“Walter!” Kipp said, shaking his head as his grin nearly split his face. “You magnificent savage, you look bigger every time I see you. Abby, darling, this is Walter, Jack’s business partner, mentor, and very good friend. You remember me telling you about him?”
“That I do, that I do,” Abby said as Merry took the bundled baby from the American Indian’s arms, then stood beside him, looking very much like she’d just stepped into the comforting shade of a tall, sheltering tree. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Walter.” Abby spread her hands, grinned. “To meet all of you.”
“Not half as pleased as we are,” Merry said, being her usual forthright self. “We had begun to wonder if Kipp here was destined to become a crusty old bachelor, tending to his hounds and drinking entirely too much port after dinner. Would you like to see our son, my lady? His name is John.”
“And I’m Abby, please,” Abby said, as she and Merry walked over to one of the couches. They sat down as Merry unwrapped the small scrap of humanity that had begun to make his presence known with a few lusty yells. She looked down at a chubby, round-faced cherub with eyes as blue as his mother’s, a short, thick mop as dark as his father’s own hair. “Oh, he’s darling!”
Kipp gestured for Jack and Walter to join him at the drinks table; wine for Jack and himself, a glass of lemonade for the Indian. “God, but it’s good to see you.” He handed them each a glass, smiled. “So, tell me, how was Philadelphia? Do you two own all of it yet?”
As Jack and Walter took turns speaking, and as Kipp listened with half an ear, he watched his wife and Merry, the two of them fussing over the infant now cuddled in Abby’s arms, and seeming to be quite content in each other’s company. They’d be good friends as well as neighbors, he was certain of it. Abby was very good at making friends.
“... and then we bought Independence Hall and turned it into a bakery shop.”
Kipp’s head whipped around, and he stared at his friend. “What did you say?”
Jack threw back his head, laughed. “I wondered if that might get your attention. She’s lovely, Kipp. You’re happy?”
“Very subtle, Jack,” Walter said wryly, sipping lemonade. “I’m so gratified to claim you as my student.”
“Happy?” Kipp shook his head. “Happy doesn’t begin to describe how I feel, my friends, just as saying that I’m lucky doesn’t come close to telling you how fortunate I am.” He looked at Abby once more, envisioning her with their own child in her arms. “We’re both very lucky men.”
~ ~ ~
“They’re gone? Just this morning, you say? Well, that’s a disappointment,” Brady said as he kissed Abby’s cheek, then accepted the glass of wine Kipp offered him. “That will teach me to go jaunting about the countryside on a whim, won’t it?”
“That’s all right, Brady,” Abby told him, patting his arm. “You’re still planning to join us at Willoughby Hall for Christmas, aren’t you? You can meet them then.”
“I’ve already met Jack,” Brady reminded her, “during the time he was banished from his family hearth, I believe. Good man, if a shade intense. Is his Merry beautiful?”
“Very,” Abby said, smiling at Kipp, who winked at her in response. “Now, do you have any more questions, or are you ready to tell us just where you were jaunting about this past week?”
Brady shrugged. “Nowhere in particular. Just a gentleman off on a small tour of the bucolic countryside.”‘ He looked at Kipp. “Stopped in Little Woodcote for a few days, made some very discreet inquiries about your Miss Bliss, that sort of thing.”
“You didn’t,” Kipp said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re like a dog with a bone about our maid, aren’t you? I keep telling you, Regina’s sixteen, couldn’t be more than seventeen, not that I’d believe her no matter what she might tell us if we asked. Much too young for you. Besides, Abby here would have your guts for garters if you attempted to make the girl your next mistress.”
“Mistress?” Brady pressed both hands to his chest, exaggeratedly expressing his shock at Kipp’s words. “As if the thought ever entered my mind. I’m just curious, that’s all. Is it a crime now, to be curious? Besides, you can’t fool me. You’re both all a-tremble, wondering what I found out, aren’t you?”
“No, we’re not,” Abby answered firmly.
“Pity,” Brady said, his smile meant to be maddening, “but that’s all right. I’ll just take it up with Miss Bliss herself. With your permission, that is.”
“Permission granted,” Kipp said, sighing, shaking his head at his stubborn friend. “And I hope she ties you up in so many lies you can’t fight your way free for a week.”
~ ~ ~
Later than same evening, Sallyann left the bedchamber as Kipp entered it, knowing her services would not be required. They rarely were, not with her master and mistress billing and cooing all the time like lovebirds, wanting to be alone together more than would probably be considered proper for married couples in some societies.
Abby turned her back to Kipp as he undid the clasp on her pearl necklace, then eased her gown from one shoulder and kissed her warm skin. “Brady can be so impossible, can’t he? Do you really think he went to Little Woodcote, Kipp? That he actually did learn something about Regina? Perhaps we should have listened to him.”
“Absolutely not, darling, as the last thing I want to do is encourage the fellow,” Kipp told her as he worked at the closings on her gown, expert that he now was in the quickest way to disrobe his wife. “Besides, I think we’ve had enough intrigue of our own for a while, don’t you? We’ll just let Brady amuse himself. You’ll see, it will come to nothing.”
He took her hand, led her toward the bed. “I’d much rather talk about how I’m planning to take you back to Willoughby Hall in a few weeks, then keep you there as my captive. In the bedchamber, I believe.”
Abby turned, melted into his arms. “Hmmmm, I like that. Tell me. How would you keep me captive? Would you come to me each night, intent on stealing my innocence, only to find yourself falling madly, deeply in love?”
Kipp’s smile melted her toes. “Something like that,” he purred as he pushed the gown completely from her shoulders, so that the fine silk puddled at her feet. “But I do believe I need some small assistance with the plot, as it’s still rather thin. Perhaps if we adjourned to the bed...?”
“I love you, Aramintha Zane,” Abby told him as he lifted her in his arms.
“And I love you, wife. I don’t tell you enough, I know, but I do love you with all my heart and soul.”
“Idiot,” she whispered throatily, keeping her arms around his neck as he eased her onto the mattress. “Don’t you know? You tell me every day....”
The End
If you enjoyed Someone to Love, I would be honored if you would tell others by writing a review on the retailer’s website where you purchased this title.
Thank you!
Kasey Michaels