Chapter Eighteen

 

The next two days all but flew by for Abigail.  When she was not spending time with Adam, she was doing her best to placate Miss Cutwright.  The morning after her magical night in Adam's arms, Abigail had come to breakfast only to be met by an overly-excited chaperone who had already been busy penning a letter back to Plymouth indicating that Abigail would be more than happy to wed the esteemed Mr. Burleigh.

Except that Abigail wouldn't be wedding the man, and it had been almost beyond impossible to convince the older woman that Abigail had another plan - and another husband - in mind for her future.  At first, Miss Cutwright had been horrified at the idea of Abigail refusing her parents' choice of a husband.  After all, Abigail had been raised to be the dutiful daughter and this marriage would secure the financial future of Henry & Sons for many years to come.  Perhaps even for generations to come.

It had been difficult for Abigail to explain to the woman that she was not a part of Henry & Sons and that it should not be up to her to secure the company's future by marriage - even if that was typically the way of things.  Abigail reminded Miss Cutwright that her family's company would survive even without the contract from Mr. Burleigh.  When that did not sway her chaperone, Abigail had confessed that she had fallen in love with a peer and that she had hoped that the promise of a title would be enough to sway her parents to her way of thinking.

When Miss Cutwright guessed that Adam was the man Abigail had fallen in love with, the chaperone had nearly been overcome by a fit of the vapors.  Again.  For she did that rather a lot, unfortunately.  Until Abigail reminded Miss Cutwright that if - or rather hopefully when, for he had not actually proposed yet - she married Adam, she would become a duchess.  Moreover, Adam was prepared to refuse Abigail's dowry in order to ease her father's financial situation.  Abigail also added that with the duke's connections, especially now that he was in favor with Society once again, there might be more and better opportunities to expand his shipping business, rather than tying himself to one man who was little better than a bully who was simply trying to buy what he could not have any other way.

After Abigail put it in those terms, Miss Cutwright was more than willing to listen to reason and had torn up the letter she was about to post to Abigail's mother.  She also seemed all too happy to take the arm of Dr. Hastings when he arrived at the breakfast table to check on his patient, leaving Abigail free to sneak off so that she might seek out Adam.

She had done just that and now, after two days of near constant time in each other's company, Abigail knew in her heart that Adam was the right man for her.  There was a little niggling worry in the back of her mind that he might never come to love her as he claimed that he would.  There was also the possibility that she was already carrying his child, for they had come together quite often in the last few days and they had never been careful to take precautions.  Not even once, however foolish that made them.  However she pushed both of those issues aside and once more clamped down on her runaway imagination.  She was happy.  She was with the man she loved.  They would be married as soon as he could procure a special license - she hoped.  Abigail refused to think of anything else beyond that, for she was not about to let anyone or anything spoil her happiness.

Now as she sat before her mirror at her dressing table to prepare for the grand masquerade ball while Elsie fussed with her hair, Abigail wondered what came next.  For tomorrow, the house party ended and the guests would return either to their homes or to the next party they were attending elsewhere.  But what about her?  After all, Adam had hinted at marriage, strongly in fact, but he had not yet officially offered for her as such.

Could she go home?  If she went back to Plymouth with just Miss Cutwright, would her family force her to wed Mr. Burleigh anyway and risk the wrath of a duke if he came for her, only to discover that she had been bound to another.  Abigail did not want to think so, but her mother's latest letter, which had arrived only that morning, made it sound as if the situation was turning desperate.  Burleigh had - wrongfully, of course - assumed that Abigail would be home by now, packing her trunks and departing Fairhaven the moment she received word that he wished to wed her.

As if she would do anything so utterly foolish.

Or would Adam accompany her back to Plymouth?  He knew the risks if she returned home alone.  If she was a member of the peerage or if her mother had been present at the house party?  Then perhaps it would not be a concern.  Yet it was.  Then again, Adam also had his mother and his sister to worry about.  While it was true that he had hired Lord Blackmore to watch over Sophia, it was only proper for Adam to escort his family home to Willowby Hill for the summer.

For all that they had spoken about over the last few days, Abigail and Adam had not discussed the practicality of actually getting married.  That, however, was likely the one thing they should have discussed before anything else.

But they had not and now, Abigail wasn't certain they would have the opportunity to do so.  Especially as Adam still had yet to actually ask her to marry him.  Which was worrisome in its own way.  After all, there would be plenty of women vying for Adam's attention this evening, and the half domino mask that he was likely to be wearing would do little to disguise his handsome face.  Adam had become exceedingly popular over the course of the last several days, ever since the day of the Fairhaven Cup Relay, and Abigail thought she might have a bit of a difficult time vying for his attention.

Then she blushed, remembering all of the attention Adam had lavished on her naked body a few nights ago, as well as the way he had suckled at her breasts just that very morning after another walk in Enwright's delightful labyrinth.  Before he had taken her on one of the conveniently located benches, of course.  Perhaps Abigail would not have difficulty attracting his attention after all.

Abigail had also made certain that Adam knew how she would be dressed this evening.  Given her height and ample bosom and curves, it would be difficult for him to mistake her, but she wanted to be certain - just in case.  Since she was so close to having the future she had always dreamed of with a man she loved, she did not wish to leave anything to chance.

Now, Abigail was dressed in the lovely amethyst silk gown with golden lace and netting that Madame LaVallier had crafted just for her before she had left London.  It dipped scandalously low in the back, so low that she could not wear a corset - which she thankful did not yet truly need - the boning stitched into the gown holding up her breasts so they all but spilled out of her bodice - just as Madame LaVallier had intended, of course.  The bodice itself was scandalously low as well, and embroidered with thousands of gold and purple crystals that caught and reflected the light each time she moved.  The rich jewel tones of the gown set of Abigail's thick, mink colored hair while the golden accents reflected the golden whiskey hues in her eyes.  Or so she had been told.

All she knew was that she wished to be pretty for Adam.  She wanted to look nice for herself, of course.  She was not so weak of a woman as all of that, but when Adam gazed at her tonight, she wanted to see all of his passion and desire for her flaring in his eyes.  She wanted to see them warm with desire for her - and no one else.

"If you don't mind me sayin' so, me lady, you look right fine."  Even after all of this time in Abigail's employ, Elsie had never quite lost her rough, country way of speaking.  "I'm just thankful that Miss Cutwright wanted to go meet that nice doctor gentleman so early, so what I could spend more time on your hair.  Wants it to look perfect for your young man, I do."

"Thank you, Elsie."  Abigail smiled at her maid in the mirror.  "I am certain he will think me lovely no matter what."

Even though she spoke the words with confidence, there was a part of Abigail that still wondered if Adam would think her too overly done in her gown.  She'd chosen a diamond necklace and earbob set that her father had brought her back from India years ago to accent her gown.  Over her evening gloves, she had added her grandmother's oversized amethyst and topaz bracelet.  It had been a gift to the woman Abigail had never known from an admiring suitor attempting to court her favor and was just ostentatious enough to be remarked upon.  Which was, of course, the evening's goal.

Tonight, everything was bigger and brighter, more risqué and dangerous than any other evening at the house party so far.  Tonight was meant to be about seduction, about stepping out of the roles society defined for lords and ladies as a whole, so that they might flirt and give in just a bit - or more, if they were daring enough - to their baser natures.  It was about letting go of inhibitions.  It was also a night of secrets, for each guest was sworn not to tell a soul about what sorts of indiscretions they witnessed in the ballroom - lest they bring down the wrath of the Devil Duke upon their heads.

Abigail knew that the masked ball was far tamer than it used to be, and it was unlikely that anything so altogether scandalous would occur.  However, she did allow that if she wished to dance with Adam more than the standard two times, then she likely would.  And she doubted that she would be the only young lady to seek out her paramour and do the same.

Sliding her feet into her slippers and reaching for the gold and amethyst encrusted facial mask that had been crafted to match her dress, Abigail waved away Elsie, who was still fussing with the strands of diamonds and amethysts that she had woven through Abigail's hair.

"Oh!  But, me lady!  One of the strands!  It's just a bit off, it is."  If nothing else, Elsie took the job of dressing her mistress very seriously.  Even if she had never taken her lessons in diction and proper speech seriously.

"That will be all, Elsie," Abigail replied as she looked at her self once more in the mirror, hoping that Adam would be pleased with what he saw.  "I do not wish to be late and I fear that I already am."

Then, like the duchess she was not but hoped to become, Abigail swept out of the room with a great deal more confidence than she actually felt.

She is late.  Dear God, I hope nothing ill has befallen her.

Adam looked at his pocketwatch again before tucking it back into his waistcoat.  Abigail had promised that she would meet him at the bottom of Fairhaven's grand staircase just after the ball began so that they might make their grand entrance - together.  It would be their way of announcing to one and all that they were a couple, even if there was no official announcement about their betrothal just yet.  He would have preferred an official announcement, of course, but then, Abigail was in something of a sticky situation with her family and he had no idea how to handle them just yet.  And, well, he had not actually asked for her hand in marriage.  Though he meant to.  He simply wasn't quite certain how to go about it.

On top of that, Sophia had once more kicked up a fuss that very morning, threatening to run off with Selby if Adam did not change his mind about their betrothal.  She had called him a brute - and worse - in front of everyone in the breakfast room, but he had held fast and, after she had stormed out in a huff, he had received congratulations from many - including the very powerful and extremely opinionated Lady Huffton - who commended him for standing his ground and refusing to allow his sister to ruin her life.

However, Adam had insisted that, at the very least, he and Abigail enter the masked ball together so that everyone at Fairhaven at the very least knew of Adam's intention to wed Abigail.  He needed to claim her as his own, and, at present, that was the best way to do so, especially as speculation regarding their possible upcoming nuptials was already running rampant.  At least until he decided whether or not it would be best to simply sweep her off to Gretna and be done with things.  He had promised her a proper wedding, of course, but now, he was coming to regret that decision just a bit.  Should they every actually get around to marrying, that is.

Adam was about to go in search of Abigail when he saw a shadow fall across the carpet in front of him.  Looking up, he was treated to a vision in violet and gold, his garden goddess looking far lovelier than he could have ever imagined.

"You are beautiful," he murmured as he strode towards her to sweep her into a breath-stealing kiss.  "You are utterly exquisite in that gown."  He leaned down and nuzzled her neck.  "Though you would also look even more exquisite out of it and naked in my bed."

"Adam!  Behave!"  Abigail swatted him with her fan, but he could see from the mirth in her eyes that she was simply teasing him.  "Else you'll have me ruined before the first waltz even plays."

Twirling her in his arms, Adam came around her so that he could pull her hard against him, her backside sung against his already straining erection.  "I need you again tonight, my love," he whispered seductively in her ear.  "Now that I have finally had you, I discover that I cannot get enough of you."

Rather than pulling away, Abigail leaned back into Adam's embrace.  "Nor I of you," she confessed.  "In fact, it has taken all of my strength to stay away from your rooms these last few nights."

Instead, Abigail had lain awake in her own bed tossing and turning, aching to feel the hard press of Adam's body into hers once more.  If that made her a wanton, then so be it.  She did not care. She desired Adam and after tonight, she wasn't certain when she would see him again.

"Then don't," he whispered as he nibbled at her earlobe.  "Come to me tonight.  Or I shall come to you."  He reached down and settled his hand over her stomach and Abigail knew what he was thinking.  She might already be with child.  They had not been careful and even yesterday when he had taken her inside the closed confines the orangery, he had been unable to control himself and had spilled inside of her.  "I need you, Abby.  All of you.  I need you to be mine.  Forever and always."

"I am yours," she whispered, wondering once more how they would make this work until they could be wed.  If they would wed.  And what would happen if she began increasing before that could occur.  "Tonight.  I will come to you.  I promise.  But now we must go in, else we will be missed.  After all, all of Crestfield is here tonight as well, and I know you are among the guests they most wish to see."

With a sigh, Adam released her and offered her his arm instead.  Just as a proper gentleman would.  "I don't see why Enwright had to become so neighborly all of the sudden.  It was just an intimate house party.  Now it is a mad crush."  He didn't want to see any of the people from Crestfield or rehash his victory in the Fairhaven Cup.  He just wanted Abigail.  However he knew that once the rest of the guests saw her, he would no longer be able to keep her all to himself.

After all, she was a bright, shining star and despite her lack of pedigree, everyone would want at least a small piece of her.  Especially once they saw her in that utterly delectable gown.

And so it proved, unfortunately for Adam.

Once they walked into the grand ballroom, she was all but swept away from him by a moving swarm of women clad in similar jewel tones and led by a woman who looked very much like Lady Charlotte.  At the beginning of the ball, it was customary for the gentleman and ladies to separate for a time.  Adam had thought to go against the trend, but clearly, the females in the room had other ideas.

Then, Lord and Lady Enwright appeared clad in outrageous costumes and the revelry began in earnest, which included dancing.  Adam had hoped to seek out Abigail for the first dance, but a woman he did not know - and who was far too old to be Abigail and in an ugly bronze gown that did not fit properly - claimed him for the first set and he would have been a cad to refuse.  So he had taken her in hand and danced, making certain to let her know that he was not interested in her numerous - and rather pushy - offers to retreat to her suite at Crestfield so that they might become better acquainted.

The old Adam Reynolds might have been that callous, but the man he was today would not be.  He knew the woman - likely either a willing widow or an experienced courtesan - was extremely disappointed when he refused, but he remained firm in his actions.  The woman took his refusal surprisingly well, considering how hard she had pushed him to go someplace private only moments before.  But Adam didn't want any woman in his life or in his bed except for Abigail.

Unfortunately, it was becoming more and more difficult to find her.  In fact, it was all but impossible now.  The crowd was swelling and even with the false wall pushed aside, there was little room to move.  There was even less room when the dancing began.  Several times he thought he saw her dark locks in the crowd, but they either turned out not to be her or the woman in question was gone before he could catch up to her.

It was damnably frustrating and more than a little annoying.  For the more Adam moved through the crowd, the more certain he was becoming of one thing.  When this house party ended, he could not let Abigail go back to Plymouth to face her family - or Mr., Burleigh - alone.  Propriety all but dictated that he accompany his mother and Sophia on to Willowby Hill where they intended to summer until the Little Season began.  Yet he also knew that Lord Blackmore would likely accompany them if Adam asked - and paid him handsomely.

He fully intended to do just that.  For he was afraid that if he allowed Abigail to return to her family without him, they might just have her leg shackled to Burleigh before he could arrive to claim her properly.  The letter he had found at the breakfast table that morning had indicated as such.

Though he and Abigail had planned to breakfast together, Adam had arrived later than anticipated because Jenkins, his valet, had been all thumbs and unable to shave Adam properly.  By the time he had arrived, Abigail was gone from her usual spot.  However, she had left behind a letter from her mother that had just arrived that morning.  Mrs. Northrup was eager for Abigail to come home so that she could wed Mr. Burleigh with all possible haste.

Adam had sought Abigail out immediately afterwards, hoping to speak about the matter, but then he had seen her at the edge of the labyrinth looking for him, and he had been overcome with the sudden need to couple with her again.  In fact, the idea of taking her out of doors, with her mounting him and riding him like a stallion, had all but made him spill himself where he stood - just like some green youth.

Now that he had experienced the wonder that was Miss Abigail Northrup, Adam found that he craved her constantly and that his brain all but turned to mush when he was near her.  He would have to work on that in the future.  Couldn't have him attacking his wife when the servants were about, after all.  Then again, he was a duke, so perhaps he could.

Now, with dreams of Abigail as his wife dancing through his head, Adam pushed his way through the crowd, growing a bit more desperate to find her.  Even in this crush, he should have seen some sign of her.  After all, in that dress, she was certain to be one of the most popular ladies present.  Yet there was no sign of her.  Still, he wasn't concerned until Lady Charlotte dashed up to him, all but out of breath.  She had removed her mask and Adam could see that there was genuine concern in her expression.  This was not good.  Not good at all.

"My lady?" Adam asked as she came up to him and took his arm.  "Is something amiss?"

"Have you seen Abigail?"  Charlotte wasted no time in getting directly to the point.

Adam shook his head.  "No.  I thought she was with you.  The ball is only but half an hour old, after all,"

"She was with me."  Charlotte bit her lip and glanced about the room.  "I know from past masquerades that the men and women always separate at the very beginning and then seek out their first partners for the night.  We discussed the practice at length the other day and she was rather excited to break the rules for a night."  Another couple whirled by and Charlotte peered at them closely.  "I turned my back for a moment to speak with Lady Adelaide, as she had hoped to secure a partner early and I was going to help her since Francis, er, I mean Lord Underhill was prepared to seek me out when the dancing began."

This time when a couple went by, Adam could tell it was all Charlotte could do to keep from yanking the man's mask off.  "When I turned back around, Abigail was gone."  Lady Charlotte looked up at him worriedly.  "This is not like her.  I am afraid that something has happened.  This entire situation?  It...feels wrong.  Both in my head and in my heart.  I cannot explain it any better than that."

She did not need to, for Adam felt the same unease.  He had for some time now, in fact from the very moment the unknown woman in bronze had asked him to dance when he was seeking out Abigail.  He knew most of the courtesans and widows of London, and that woman had not been one of them.  It could have been someone from the surrounding countryside, he supposed, but she moved like a lady with some experience.  She was not an innocent, and he had the horrible sensation that she had been sent to distract him.

Another visual sweep of the ballroom showed that the crowd had thinned a bit.  The orchestra was now well into the second set and some of the more eager couples were already sneaking off into the night to be alone.  Yet Abigail was not among the crowds remaining.

"Go find Lord Underhill," Adam urged Lady Charlotte.  "And anyone else you can find.  Especially Lord Enwright or Lord Blackmore if you encounter them first.  We need to rouse a search party.  I fear Abigail has been kidnapped."

"Your grace?"  Lady Charlotte seemed frozen in place.  "Who would do such a thing?"

"A man named Mr. Burleigh," he replied quickly.  "He is apparently seeking her hand by way of her family.  They wish her to wed him.  As I am certain you know, she does not feel the same."

Lady Charlotte nodded in understanding.  "She has chosen you instead and he is not happy about her choice."

"She is a prize he is being denied and based on a letter I found this morning, I fear that he means to take her by whatever means necessary.  He is not a patient man."  Adam gave Charlotte a little push.  "Now go.  I am not certain how long Abigail has been gone, but I do know where they are likely headed."

The other woman nodded, and Adam was pleased to see that like Abigail, Lady Charlotte Cleary was no shrinking violet.  "Gretna."

It was a single word but it filled Adam with absolute terror.  If Abigail and Burleigh reached Scotland before he could rescue her, there would be no undoing the damage.  She would be lost to him forever.  Hell and blazes.  He nodded, his eyes still searching the room just in case.  "Just so.  Now go and find some strong, capable men.  Before it is too late."  Then Adam turned and began pushing his way through the throng of people, desperate to find men capable of helping him get Abigail back.

Because Adam had been wrong when he thought that he could grow to love her.  He already did love Abigail.  And idiot that he was, he had never told her, even the other night as they made love and he had begun to suspect the truth.  Because Adam had been a coward, too afraid of his own feelings to confess them to the very woman who needed to hear them the most.  That was likely the greatest sin Adam had ever committed in his life.  Even greater than when he had thrown over Lady Diana.  And that was truly saying something.