firmly together and turned away from her, marching resolutely toward a footman
with her command. Abbey had stifled a laugh as she flew up the stairs in search
of a reticule and proper bonnet. Today she would purchase passage to America.
Tonight she would pen her note to the Devil of Darfield, releasing him.
Tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, she would leave Blessing Park forever.
He would be exceedingly happy.
In Pemberheath, Abbey cheerfully instructed her driver and coachman to call for
her in two hours. She might be going home in disgrace, but she would not go
empty-handed. She spent a contented afternoon strolling among the little shops
in search of trinkets. She selected a broach made of lapis for her aunt, and a
china teapot for Virginia. For Victoria, her adventuresome cousin, she purchased
a tweed hunting jacket from a haberdasher.
Pleased with her purchases, she began to make her way to a small office at the
end of a narrow alley, where she had been directed to arrange for passage to
America. Rounding the corner, she almost collided with a man coming out of the
narrow door of a small house. Startled, she caught her packages before they
fell, then smiled upward, prepared to offer her apologies.
The apologies died on her tongue. Dear God, it was her cousin Galen standing
before her, looking more shocked than she. Abbey dropped the packages she had so
carefully caught only moments before and threw her arms around his neck. “Galen!
You didn’t tell me you had come!” she cried.
Galen hugged her fiercely but briefly, and quickly set her away from him.
“I intended to surprise you, but it would seem you have surprised me.” He smiled, glanced surreptitiously toward the main thoroughfare, then up the alley
in the opposite direction. “Come, let me help you with those things,” he said,
and bent to gather her things as Abbey happily plied him with questions.
When
they had gathered the packages, Galen paused to look at a beaming Abbey. A smile
slowly spread his lips.
“My God, little one, what a beauty you’ve become,” he said appreciatively as he
gazed at her for the first time in many years.
Abbey laughed and glanced demurely at her toes. “Galen, really. I’m the same as
the last time we met.”
“Indeed you are not! That was a full five years ago, I am quite certain, and though you were beginning to show signs of natural beauty…”He trailed off and
lifted his hand, brushing his knuckles lightly across her cheek. “I could not have guessed how truly breathtaking you would be,” he said softly.
Abbey, blushing furiously now, gazed shyly into his dark-brown eyes. He was one
to talk with his dark-blond locks and dancing brown eyes. He had sent her into a
bout of severe adolescent devotion many years ago, as he undoubtedly was still
doing to unsuspecting maids. He was as tall as she remembered, his face tanned
from years at sea, and his eyes still twinkled just as mischievously.
She grinned as a flood of warm memories invaded her. “I am so thankful you have
come! I have so longed to see you, you could not imagine!”
Galen grinned charmingly. “I’ve missed you, too, little one. Have you time?
There is a place I know where we might take tea. There is much we have to
discuss.”
“Of course! I have so much to tell you,” Abbey agreed, and began to walk toward
the main thoroughfare.
“Not that way!” Galen called sharply. Abbey glanced curiously over her shoulder;
Galen smiled sheepishly and motioned toward the far end of the alley. “It’s just
here, a small, quaint little place I am sure you will like,” he said, walking slowly away from the main street until Abbey caught up with him.
The place he took her could hardly be called a tearoom, but there was a scarred
table, and a woman did bring them a pot of tea and some stale biscuits.
Abbey
sipped her tea, listening attentively as Galen told her of his many adventures
since leaving the Dancing Maiden.
So many, in fact, she had to wonder if there was more than he might have possibly been able to squeeze into his twenty-five years. He talked of fighting
in strange wars Abbey had never heard of, and having captained his own ship that
unfortunately went down around Cape Horn. Then there was the time he spent
apprenticing in the offices of the East India Trading Company in Amsterdam,
which naturally led to his joining a small but independent shipping firm in Copenhagen sometime later.
As she listened to his thrilling stories, she felt as if she were listening to her aunt read from one of her adventure novels. In all honesty, she was not terribly sure she had not heard some of the stories Galen told in those books.
But she did not care. Her adored cousin had come to visit her, and if he wanted
to embellish a bit, that was perfectly all right with her.
“And what of you?” Galen finally asked after eating the last biscuit and helping
himself to the last cup of tea. “When I last saw you, the captain was sending
you to a Geneva finishing school.”
Abbey laughed. “Geneva, dear God, how long ago that was! I should be ashamed to
confess I lasted only a month in that school. I was much too old for it, I think, and I had a particular dislike for the headmistress, and she for me.
She
was quite appalled that I had been sailing about with a bunch of scalawags, as
she called them. Anyway, it wasn’t very long afterward that Papa’s condition
worsened, and he sent me to live with Aunt Nan.”
Galen looked aggrieved at the mention of her father’s consumption. “I can’t tell
you how terribly sorry I was to hear of your father’s death. He was like a father to me, you know, but I never had the opportunity to tell him just how fond of him I was. I was just about to depart for the West Indies when I heard
the news,” he said sadly.
“I thought you were preparing to depart for America,” Abbey remarked, recalling
his letters.
Galen colored slightly. “Well, I was, in a manner of speaking. To the West Indies first, then to America. I had planned to do a grand tour of sorts and see
the entire family in one long trip,” he said with a dismissive smile. “But the news of his death came, and right on the heels of that, the company I was working for collapsed with debt. An amazing thing, really. I had thought it completely solvent, but apparently it was just making ends meet. One ship was
lost, and the whole enterprise crumbled like a house of cards.”
“Oh, no!” Abbey exclaimed, completely unaware that he had artfully turned the
subject. “What did you do?”
“Fortunately, I had put a small amount aside in savings. It was enough to see me
through for a time, and I had actually planned to join another vessel when I heard you were in England.” He turned a charming grin on her. “I simply had to
come and see my little cousin,” he said, and covering her hand with his, squeezed gently.
“Oh, Galen, you shouldn’t have used your savings to visit me!”
“And why the hell not? I’ve missed you terribly, little one, and I didn’t know when I might have the opportunity again. Family is too important to ignore, don’t you think? Don’t look so surprised—the seas will wait!”
Abbey was not immune to the struggle of most seafaring men to make ends meet,
and immediately worried. Galen was trying very hard, at the moment, to make
light of it. He had always been so carefree; she could remember her papa complaining he was too carefree, too eager to shirk responsibility. But Papa
would have been proud of the man he had become. “Have you sufficient funds? I
mean, while you are here?” she asked boldly.
Galen shrugged and looked at the scarred tabletop, his face clouding a moment
with what Abbey thought was regret.
“You haven’t, I can see it plainly in your face!” she cried, alarmed.
Galen smiled sheepishly. “You shouldn’t worry about me, little one. I’ve enough
to get by. Granted, I won’t be staying in the finest inns, and I won’t be hiring
a curricle for your fancy, either.” He laughed.
Abbey shook her head and reached for her reticule.
“I have no desire to go about in a curricle, Galen. I cannot bear the thought of
you sleeping in some barn! You’ll come to Blessing Park with me—”
“No, no. I am quite fine in Pemberheath for the moment. I shall be all right,”
he assured her weakly. “And in fact, I am off on the morrow for a few days.
I’ve
some business in Portsmouth.” Unthinking, Abbey reached inside her reticule and
withdrew the cash she had put aside for her passage home. “Take this,”
she said,
and as Galen started to shake his head, she grabbed his hand. “Please, Galen, I
want you to have it! I would feel so much better if I knew you had a decent roof
over your head!”
Galen laughed nervously as his fingers closed around the money she held in her
hand. “It’s not nearly as bad as all that, little one. We shall consider this a loan. And for a very short time, I assure you. I am expecting some important
news very soon that I think will alter my situation completely.”
“Really? What?”
Galen shook his head and grinned enigmatically. “In due course I shall tell you
everything. I shouldn’t be surprised if this very important news affects my little cousin, too. In the meantime, however, I should very much like to spend
some time with you, as circumstances permit.”
Time. Abbey was about to ask how his news could affect her, but her eyes flew to
a clock across the room. She was a good quarter of an hour late for her coach.
“Oh, dear God! I told the driver to call for me at precisely four o’clock!” she exclaimed, and started reaching for her packages. “I shouldn’t want them to
worry something has happened.”
Galen looked oddly distracted by her remark for a moment. “No, we would not want
them to worry,” he muttered, and taking the things from her hand, escorted her
outside and began to lead her toward the main thoroughfare.
“So, you’ve been in America all this time, have you?” he asked as they strolled
down the alley.
Abbey nodded. “Until a little more than a month ago, when I came here.”
They came to the point where the alley intersected the thoroughfare. Just down
the street, the Darfield coach was waiting for her, and Abbey waved until she
got the driver’s attention.
Galen thoughtfully eyed the ornate coach over her head. “We hardly had
time to
talk about you! So, my little cousin is to marry the Marquis of Darfield. I suspect the happy event will occur sometime this spring?” he asked as the coach
swung out onto the road and moved toward them.
Abbey hesitated. She was not prepared to tell Galen that her marriage had ended
the moment it had begun, or that she was returning to America very soon.
She was
not quite ready to face her humiliation, not yet. She turned as the coach pulled
to a halt and smiled at the driver, blithely ignoring the suspicious look he gave Galen. A coachman leapt down from his post on the back runners and with a
definite, challenging glare for Galen, took Abbey’s packages. Galen surrendered
them easily, watching both men with a look of amusement.
“You should engage these two to drive you to the church, little one,” he teasingly muttered. “I am quite certain they won’t allow anyone to stand in your
way!”
“Actually, I have already married the marquis,” Abbey said as matter-of-factly
as she could.
Galen jerked a startled gaze to her. “You did what?”
Nonplussed by his reaction, she asked, “What is wrong?” Next to her, the coachman made a great show of opening the coach door.
Galen quickly recovered with a deeply charming smile. “You caught me by surprise. I had thought there would be a period of engagement, that’s all.”
“There was a period of engagement—of about thirteen years!” Abbey giggled
nervously. “I assure you, it was all quite proper!”
Galen smiled down at her. “I should like to meet your marquis, little one.
Perhaps I shall call in a few days. There is so much more we shall have to discuss.” He took a step forward, his arms outstretched. “An embrace for a
long-lost cousin?” Abbey happily obliged, hugging him tightly to her. Galen kissed her on the cheek, slowly released her, and, with a wink, took a step back
as the coachman crowded between to separate them.
“Then you will come to Blessing Park? Very soon?” Abbey asked as she let the
coachman help her inside.
“I shall, just as soon as I return form Portsmouth,” he assured her as the coachman slammed the door shut.
Abbey smiled and waved at him through the window of the barouche as the coach
lurched forward, watching him until she could not see him any longer.
Only then
did she wonder how she would return to America after giving all the money she
had to Galen.
Facing the mirror, Michael finished tying his neckcloth, ignoring Rebecca’s
continuing tirade about broken promises. It had been a mistake to come here, a
colossal mistake. A figurine went flying past him, crashing into the wall, and
Michael impassively looked down at the broken pieces. With a final inspection of
the knot he had just made, he turned and glanced at the pretty blonde, his eyes
drifting over her filmy negligee and the curvaceous figure underneath.
“I never promised you a damn thing, Rebecca,” he said impassively. “You and I
had an arrangement that suited us for a time, but it no longer suits me.”
“You heartless cretin! How dare you waltz in here and take me like some rutting