The Lady's Disgrace (3 page)

“What you are attempting to tell me is, if I came with no dowry, you would still entertain the idea of marrying me?”

He gave himself a minute to reflect on her question. Abigail was a woman most men would want to marry. Beautiful, smart and possessed of curves even a man of the church desired. She’d been trained to be an advantageous wife to a titled gentleman. She was graceful, witty, and gently bred. Energy radiated from her, even now making the air snap with vitality. To have all that energy in his life—and bed—would make him a fortunate man indeed. Except she was seeking to put restrictions on the bedding part of it. He sighed. Something he would need to work on. “Yes, I would.”

“Then you are wrong. You
are
a fool.”

“How so?”

“Because I don’t want a marriage that is more than two friends working together to create something worthwhile. I held out for three years for what I thought was a love match. But apparently, that wasn’t true. So now all I want is a home of my own, children, and to be needed.” Though she pierced him with a determined look, her eyes rimmed with tears.

His insides tightened at the look of emptiness on her face that hadn’t been there before. Since he’d always been half in love with her, placing restrictions on their relationship could prove difficult to live with. But he was not prepared to miss this chance to have Abigail as his wife. “I will honor your wishes, if that is truly what you want.”

“It is.”

Joseph slid off the sofa and bent to one knee, taking her hands in his. “Will you honor me then, Lady Abigail, and make me the happiest of men, by consenting to be my wife?”

At first he thought she would refuse. Then she leaned her head to one side and said softly, “Yes, Joseph Fox. I will.”

He rose and pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her waist. Bending his head to kiss her, he was once again jolted at the emotions welling up within him. Her hand slowly snaked its way up his arm until it settled on his shoulder. He cupped the back of her head and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to tease her until she allowed him to enter. After tasting the sweet nectar, he drew back. “Perhaps we should speak with your brother.”

Abigail hesitated for a moment, her eyes dazed, then she seemed to pull herself together. “Yes, of course. I will have him come to us.”

…

Abigail hurried across the room and quickly left the library, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the wall and took in a deep breath, touching her fingers to her swollen lips. Her heart was pounding as if she’d run a race. Her hands shook, and her belly did a ballet.

Hell and damnation. What have I gotten myself into?

Chapter Three

Abigail stared out the window at the rose garden cloaked in pale sunlight. Beyond her view, the dirt and smell of London on a hot summer day was a stark contrast to the peace and serenity below. The tip of her finger traced a heart on the glass, and she sighed. Her wedding day, the day of which every young girl dreams.

How different her life would now be, given the path she’d chosen. Or, more accurately, had been thrust upon her. Growing up, she’d always planned for a love match, assuming she would marry a titled gentleman and continue her life as it had always been. Country manor, London townhouse, the Season, parties, balls, musicales, the theatre.

Her love match had defected, and instead she was marrying a childhood friend. One she was deathly afraid of developing unwanted feelings for. Her life would not be one of drudgery, to be sure, but a rector’s wife was not one of leisure, either. The thought energized her, filled her with excitement.

For some time now, the entire Season had become dull. She’d already spurned most of the suitable gentlemen. Each year she ached for the man who would be her true love, her life partner. She’d thought she’d found it in Redgrave, but apparently not. As much as she hated to admit it, her love hadn’t quite died. Although, deep down inside she was grateful to discover the cad that he was before she married him.

Redgrave was handsome, charming and obviously a great pretender. As well as a scoundrel. On the other hand, Joseph Fox was an honorable man. Loyal and dependable, and determined to do the right thing. Qualities she’d deemed boring in previous suitors. A lesson learned.

“Abigail, you look lovely!” Her mother floated into the room in a swirl of dark blue silk.

“Thank you, Mother.” She rose and closed the distance between them and took her mother’s hands in hers. “Am I doing the right thing?”

“Oh, my dear. Come, let us sit.”

Abigail clutched her mother’s hands tightly. That still didn’t stop their shaking. “Should I take this step that will change my life so?”

“You’ve made a wise decision. I watched Joseph grow from a small boisterous child into a kind, devoted man. He cares deeply for the people of his village and church. He will be true to you. There really isn’t much more to ask for in a marriage. You get along well, and I can see the two of you working toward a goal, accomplishing a great deal.”

Abigail smiled softly. “I notice you left out love.”

“Because I didn’t wish you to snap at me,” her mother said wryly, smoothing her skirts.

“I am determined to eschew love. I will never again put myself into a position where I can be hurt.”

“Well, dearling, we’ve had this discussion before. In fact, so many times recently that there really isn’t any more to say on the subject. Now it is time to leave for the church. Drake is waiting downstairs to escort you.” She pulled Abigail into her arms in a tight hug. “Be happy, my daughter.”

Several hours later, Abigail once more glanced at the wedding band on her left hand. She sat across from Joseph, who studied the scenery as their coach rumbled along toward her new home in Addysby End. She twisted the gold and emerald ring around her finger. It was done. She was now Lady Abigail Fox, wife to Rector Joseph Fox. Whether this was the right thing for her to do or not, no longer mattered. She had a new life ahead of her, and she was determined to make the best of it.

Gathering clouds cast the late afternoon into a gray pallor. They’d been on the road for a few hours, the wedding already a blur in her mind.

“Are you comfortable enough?” Joseph asked.

“Yes.”

The heavy silence hung in the air. They’d already had a stilted conversation about the wedding, the food, and the change of scenery from London to the lovely countryside. Abigail was rarely at a loss for words, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her new husband. A moment of panic seized her as she thought of the possibility of years of numbing silence every time she and Joseph were alone.

They could discuss the school again, but most of the planning had been done, with not much left to consider until they spoke with the contractor who would construct the building.

She stole a glance at him under her eyelashes. At first he appeared relaxed, but after careful consideration, she realized he held himself stiffly, as if waiting for a blow. No longer able to handle the quietude, she blurted, “Will we be driving straight through?”

Startled from his musings, Joseph said, “No. There is an inn I’ve stayed at many times before. It is a tad more than half way from London to Addysby End. They have plain, but tasty food and comfortable beds. I’m sure the fare won’t be at all what you are used to, but I’m afraid it is the best we can do.”

Her eyes snapped. “I have stayed at inns before and am familiar with their offerings. I’m sure it will be fine.”

The censure in her voice brought a slight flush to Joseph’s face. Abigail immediately regretted her tone, but, honestly, did the man think she never traveled? And his presumption that she would somehow find the accommodations lacking vexed her. It did not bode well for this marriage if he assumed she could only survive with luxuries at her fingertips.

She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. The strain of the last few weeks had taken its toll. It was not like her to snap at people, and appearing to be a shrew was not how she wanted to start off their relationship.

Joseph’s coach was not as luxurious as her family’s conveyance. She shifted a bit to get more comfortable.

“I’m sorry about the carriage. I do have a larger one, but generally use this one for lengthier trips. Particularly since I am almost always alone.”

“It is fine.” Abigail tried to tamp down her rising anger. If he said one more thing to indicate he thought her to be high in the instep and unable to bear the least amount of inconvenience, she would take off her shoe and hurl it at his head. That would certainly disabuse him of this notion that she was a princess.

She might be a duke’s daughter, but she’d spent enough of her childhood running around and playing hard just like any other urchin. And if anyone should know that, it was her husband. Wasn’t it he and her brother who’d tied her to a tree? She smiled at the memory. No, there was certainly nothing high in the instep about her family.

…

Joseph could have bitten off his tongue. What the devil was the matter with him? He knew quite well the Lacey family members did not think of themselves above everyone else. But now that he had Abigail sitting across from him, traveling to his home to begin their marriage, his brain seemed to be disconnected from his mouth.

The wedding had been quick. While they’d waited for the bride to appear, he’d tried to make small talk with his father, who stood up for him, but it hadn’t worked. He still couldn’t believe he was about to marry Lady Abigail. The one woman he had put firmly from his mind years ago. Despite what he’d had her believe back then, he too had felt the attraction between the two of them, but knew it could go nowhere.

But then, maybe it hadn’t been so impossible. Despite being a duke, her brother had married a woman who had been raised in America and was a botanist, certainly outside the strictures of
ton
society. Penelope also still worked at her science. During the two weeks Joseph had stayed with the family, waiting for the wedding, he’d been witness to Drake following his duchess around with a shovel to do her digging, lest she fall and hurt herself. He shook his head and grinned. One only had to spend less than a half an hour in the couple’s company to know they were very much in love, and devoted to each other.

Perhaps one day…He shoved that idea from his mind. Abigail had made it plain when they’d formed their original arrangement that she wanted nothing more from this union than children and the opportunity to help him with his school. As much as he wanted to see his project come to fruition, it was the begetting of children that had occupied most of his thoughts the past couple of weeks.

He slid his gaze from the gloomy exterior to his wife. Her eyes were closed, and from the peaceful expression on her face and her slightly parted lips, it was obvious she’d fallen into a deep sleep. He took the opportunity to study her closely.

While an attractive woman, her beauty actually came from her personality, her various expressions. At rest she looked lovely, but when she was awake and being Abigail, she was stunningly beautiful. Not one to be overly impressed with a woman’s exterior, he was actually more fascinated by her person.

During the fleeting moments they’d been able to spend together since their betrothal, she’d questioned him relentlessly on his plans for the school. Her enthusiasm for the project stunned him, as did her suggestions. He found in his future wife a vital and energetic partner with ideas to make the design of the school much more efficient. In fact, he’d sat speechless as she’d slid paper after paper under his nose with her ideas.

But in all the times they discussed the plans and talked about various programs for the children, he’d found it hard to concentrate on her words. He’d watched her plump lips move, wanting to cover them with his own. His hands itched to feel the softness of her breasts that rose and fell with each breath. He ached to pull her onto his lap, feel her rounded bottom against his hardness.

Thinking of those conversations now had him hard, forcing him to shift in the seat to ease the discomfort.

Abigail jerked as the carriage hit a bump in the road. She blinked a few times as if confused, then her brows furrowed as she looked out the small window. She swung her gaze to him and a combination of confusion and mirth slid across her face as she clutched the strap in the carriage. “Bumpy ride.”

“If you prefer, you can sit alongside me, and I’ll hold onto you.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine over here. How long was I asleep?”

“Not long. Only about fifteen minutes.”

She stretched her muscles. “Do you mind if I read?”

“Not at all. I’ve a book myself.” With dusk encroaching, he reached up and lit the lantern hanging alongside him, casting the space into a cozy niche.

She reached into a small bag at her feet and withdrew a book. Opening to a page marked with a small card, she began to read.

Joseph opened his book, but instead of reading, he watched her from under half-closed eyelids, observing her staring at the same page for over five minutes. Then he grinned at the fact that she held the book upside down.

Suddenly the carriage hit a large hole in the road. “Oh!” Abigail’s book flew from her hands, and she landed on the floor, her skirts up around her knees. She glanced up at him, her face a bright red as she shoved her skirts down.

Joseph reached for her and pulled her up alongside him. Abigail swatted at his hands when he tried to right her jacket. “I’m fine.” She smoothed her hair back, and scooted once more to the other side of the carriage, her forgotten tome still at her feet. “Do you suppose we might stop for tea?”

“Of course.” He didn’t know whether to be amused or hurt that she was so quick to bat his hand away. Did she expect that he would never touch her?

He tapped on the ceiling of the carriage as a signal to the driver to stop at the next posting inn.

As it turned out, it was the inn where Joseph had planned to stop for the evening. He checked his timepiece. “It seems we will be partaking of dinner instead of tea.”

“Goodness. Is it that late already?”

“Almost seven.”

“It will be good to be free of the coach and ease my muscles.”

The footman opened the door, and Joseph jumped out, turning to assist Abigail. The warmth of her hand in his once more brought his attention to what lay ahead of them. His wedding night.

“Mr. Fox, how nice to see you again.” The innkeeper greeted them as they entered the main room.

“And you as well, Weston.” Joseph pulled Abigail forward. “I’m pleased to inform you I’ve recently married, and this is my wife, Lady Abigail Fox.”

The man immediately bowed and pulled on his forelock. “Milady.”

Abigail smiled in return before the innkeeper nodded to Joseph. “May I congratulate you on your marriage and your lovely bride?”

“Thank you. May we have a private dining room?”

“Of course. My wife will be happy to assist your lady to refresh herself.” He led them through the common dining area to a small room at the back. Even though it was early summer, a fire burned, keeping the night dampness from the room.

“Please excuse me, I will send in Mrs. Weston.”

Abigail moved toward the fireplace extending her hands. Within minutes, the innkeeper’s wife arrived and escorted her to the privy.

The two women departed, and Joseph tamped down the nervous twitches in his stomach. He wanted everything to be perfect for her. There was no doubt any feelings Abigail had for him stemmed from their childhood. If in the future, she ever felt anything more, he would consider it a blessing. To have her for his wife was beyond anything of which he’d ever dreamed. As much as he’d like to beat Redgrave to a pulp for what he’d done to Abigail, he should send the man a thank you note. Abigail was now his.

Abigail returned to the private dining room the same time the innkeeper was delivering a drink to Joseph.

“I asked for tea to be sent.” He said as he held her chair.

“Thank you. I think I need that more than I do food, at this point.” She studied him for a moment. “Joseph, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“You have known me and my family for many years.”

He nodded as he took a sip of his brandy. Once again he was having a difficult time concentrating on her words. All he saw where those plump, ripe lips moving. His groin tightened as his thoughts drifted toward the bedrooms upstairs where he soon would be alone with his wife to nibble on those soft lips, and then proceed south from there…

“You must remember my mother organizing games for the village children. Do you recall how she used to rescue puppies and lead us all in snowball fights?”

He pulled himself back from his lascivious thoughts and replayed her question in his mind, grinning at the picture of the dowager duchess behaving in a most un-duchess like manner many times over the years. It was one of the reasons he’d always been so comfortable at Manchester Manor. Never did anyone make him feel as though he was beneath them and had no right to be there. He and Drake had been friends throughout their childhood.