The Secret Christmas Ciphers (3 page)

He would have liked to explain his actions to Abigail, but he could not help wishing she had given him the benefit of the doubt. On the other hand, perhaps it was for the best that she had not. Now, with the war escalating and his particular talents in special demand, he needed to keep his wits about him and be free to travel as required.

Abigail would be safest not knowing that his seemingly casual lifestyle during the past several months was a cover for his work toward aiding the war effort. Only when his superiors had determined he would be more useful if he were part of a regiment did he ask his father to buy him a commission.

His father had agreed to buy the commission if Derek would agree to marry Abigail. After all—or so his father claimed—some sort of excuse was required for his finally allowing his only heir to go into the army, and everyone in the neighborhood understood that Abigail’s father was so eager to marry her off, he was offering an unusually generous marriage settlement. While Derek suspected his father’s reasons were much more complex than that, he had agreed for reasons of his own.

Those reasons, of course, revolved around a combination of guilt and regret that was complicated by his intense feelings for Abigail. He was less sure as to why Abigail had agreed to marry him. She made no secret of the fact that she detested him. Surely the prospect of living with a stepmother was not sufficient reason for her to marry a man she hated.

But at least they were wed now, and if he lived through the coming months, he was going to devote his full attention to earning his wife’s regard.

And if he did not live, well then, Abigail would be left a virgin widow free to seek love elsewhere.

Chapter Two

The log Derek had thrown on the fire had almost burned itself out before Abigail got her emotions under control and managed to stop crying. She hated the enmity between them, but she’d far rather Derek dislike her than that he pity her, so she was determined to continue pretending to despise him.

She’d just begun to feel a tiny bit sleepy when she heard the slow screech of door hinges and felt a cold blast of air sweep into the room. She sat up in bed. The dying fire still cast enough light that she could make out a form slipping in from the corridor.

“Pssst. Abigail? Are you asleep?”

Recognizing the voice, Abigail heaved a sigh. “For god’s sake, Catherine. Do you make a habit of visiting brides on their wedding nights?”

Catherine ignored the question. She dashed across the room, jumped into bed, and slipped her cold feet over onto Abigail’s legs.

Used to such behavior from Derek’s stepsisters, Abigail merely grimaced and turned on her side to face her friend. “What do you want, Catherine, besides scaring me and then freezing me to death? Are you trying to turn your stepbrother into a widower on his wedding night?”

Catherine snuggled under the covers. “I knew you’d be alone and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Couldn’t it wait until morning?”

Again Catherine ignored Abigail’s question. “I want you to take me to London with you.”

“What?”

“You
are
going for the Little Season, aren’t you?”

“Well—”

“Just think about it,” Catherine interrupted. “If you make plans to go alone, your father will try to insist that you hire a companion. But if you take me, I can invite my cousin Parsetta to go with us. Did you meet her when she came for Mama’s funeral?”

Abigail paused to think. She’d met very few of the sisters’ relatives on their mother’s side of the family. The Earl of Melton, she knew, had married the sisters’ mother several years after Derek’s mother passed away. He’d hoped, some people said, to have a second son to serve as a spare since he had only Derek by his first marriage. Unfortunately, the second Countess of Melton had died in childbirth along with the baby that would have been her fourth daughter. Abigail had been introduced to only a few of the people who came for the countess’s funeral. “I don’t recall meeting anyone named Parsetta.”

“You wouldn’t necessarily remember her,” Catherine said. “She’s one of those people who is eminently forgettable. Very quiet, shy, withdrawing. That’s why she’d be perfect to accompany us to London. She’d never get in our way.”

“Where is this paragon of nothingness now?”

“She’s staying with one of mother’s sisters, who is no doubt using poor Parsetta to help look after her thirteen children. Parsetta would be thrilled at the prospect of moving to London with us and having no duties to speak of beyond accompanying us to an occasional party.”

“Actually,” Abigail said, “I wasn’t planning on going out in society. You know I have no female relatives to sponsor me. I’m merely going to London to visit the bookstores, see the museums, walk in the parks, and in general lead a quiet life.”

Catherine snorted. “In other words, despite your youth, you want to bury yourself in the dull activities appropriate for an old maiden lady. That, my dear Abigail, is exactly why you need me to go with you. With the Little Season underway, we’ll have opportunities to attend balls and routs and all manner of enjoyable events.”

Abigail was aware she’d already lost this war, but she was determined to continue fighting. “What about the twins? You know they won’t want you to leave them behind, and they’re still too young to go.”

“I’ve already talked to the twins. They’ve received an invitation from another of our mother’s sisters to visit her in Bath, and our aunt has even hinted that they can attend a ball or two with her. They’re excited about the prospect of meeting new people and seeing new sights. Besides, they understand that if you and I establish ourselves in London society now, we’ll be better equipped to sponsor them when they make their debut in two years.”

Abigail pushed herself up in bed, then pulled the covers up around her shoulders. This old castle was cold. “You know you would have to behave yourself in London. If you started carrying on risqué conversations with the footmen and grooms there, your reputation would soon be in such tatters that no one could salvage it.”

Catherine sighed. “You’re right. I know that. I’ll behave because I’m hoping to catch a husband and have a man in my bed every night if I wish. Unlike you, I might add.”

Abigail was glad that the near darkness hid her blushes. “Very well. We’ll talk to your Papa tomorrow and see if he’ll send for your cousin Parsetta.”

“Wonderful.” Catherine paused for a second before continuing. “So why did you really decide to marry Derek? I know it wasn’t because your father is remarrying, and I also know you haven’t forgiven Derek for proposing to Melonnie.”

Abigail didn’t respond immediately because she wasn’t sure she was ready to dig deep enough into her own heart to find the answer. Finally she said, “Maybe I want to find out why he betrayed me.”

Catherine reached for Abigail’s hand under the covers and gave it a squeeze. “Maybe,” she agreed softly before throwing back the covers and slipping out of bed. “Don’t forget to get up and see Derek off in the morning.”

“I won’t forget.” Abigail scooted back down in bed. She waited until the soft screech of the door hinges indicated Catherine had left the room. Then she murmured to herself, “I have a husband…of sorts.”

She turned on her side so she could see the flicker of the dying flames and watched, dry eyed, until the last ember had gone black and the room was in total darkness.

* * *

Dawn had barely started turning the sky pink the next morning when Abigail heard Derek moving around in the adjoining chamber. How she wished her new husband had not betrayed her love. She wished even more that she understood exactly why he had still been willing to marry her.

But she doubted he would ever tell her, just as she would never tell him her reasons for agreeing to the marriage. She pushed herself up in bed. One of the maids should be coming soon to build up the fire, but Abigail had no intention of staying in bed until then.

She rose, wrapped herself in a warm robe and hurried over to the fireplace to see if there might be a spark left from which she could nurture a flame. With luck, some dry kindling and a fair amount of skill, she soon had enough of a fire going that she could stop shivering.

Her next step was to light a candle from the flames and then make her way over to the wardrobe on the far side of her chamber. She needed to decide on a gown for the morning activities, and she wasn’t sure what Mary had packed to bring with them. Fortunately, she’d brought along a long-sleeved, high-necked woolen dress. Abigail spread it out on the bed, but only after making sure to turn the covers back enough to reveal the spots of blood she’d left there the night before. Then she rang for Mary.

Forty-five minutes later, Abigail stood on the front steps with her new father-in-law and the upper servants. Derek’s stepsisters had not bothered to rise early to see their brother off.

Derek’s groom had already brought his mount around when Abigail stepped outside. A layer of frost covered most of the grounds, and her breath formed a tiny cloud of white when she breathed out. She pretended that it was the sharpness of the air that brought tears to her eyes, and she quickly pulled her knitted scarf more tightly around her neck.

Derek had been facing away from the house checking the condition of his horse when Abigail came out. When he turned and saw her, a smile brightened his face and an expression of fondness—she could only assume it was feigned—crinkled the corners of his eyes. He immediately left his horse in the care of the groom and hurried to her side, his boots thudding against the stone steps, seemingly in rhythm with the beats of her heart. She forced an answering smile, then started when he wrapped her in a hug.

He put his mouth close to her ear. “Well, my lady wife, I see you are a woman of your word. You’re here to see me off.”

Abigail shivered as his warm breath tickled her ear. She straightened her spine and wondered if he could feel her resolve. If so, he would never understand how much it cost her to respond to him in kind. “As you say, dear husband, I am a woman of my word. I’ve come to wish you a safe journey.”

She heard a hitch in his breath. What was he feeling at this moment? Anger? Disappointment? Fear? No, more likely he was feeling relief. He’d wanted to join a regiment to fight against Napoleon for years. Now, by marrying her, he was going to realize his dream.

By marrying her and then leaving her.

“I’m taking Catherine to London with me.” Now why had she told him that? He could have no interest in her comings and goings, except as it might reflect on his name, she supposed. Did he know that his stepsisters had a tendency toward being unruly?

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Can you rein her in?”

Abigail’s heart rate sped up. Gad, but his eyes were gorgeous. This morning, however, they seemed a bit too piercing. She held his gaze although it wasn’t easy. “I’ll manage.”

He nodded once. “I’m going to kiss you now. For appearance’s sake, of course. You’ll not bite or kick me, I hope?”

“I’ll pretend to welcome your embraces. I’ve always been a good actress.”

“Have you?” He stared more deeply into her eyes. “I wonder. Well, this will test your skills.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than Derek tilted his head, tightened his embrace and pulled her into what she could easily judge was a deeply passionate kiss. Because she’d been about to speak, her lips were already parted, so he immediately thrust his tongue inside her mouth.

Had he not been holding her so tightly, Abigail would have pulled back from the sheer surprise of the kiss. He’d kissed her before, of course, many times, but generally those had been chaste kisses, nothing in comparison to this one.

What really surprised her, though, was her reaction to this morning’s kiss. She’d never expected to feel such a multitude of delightful sensations, sensations that traveled through mysterious routes all the way down her torso and into the deepest part of her belly. She could almost begin to understand why the sisters were so enthralled with the various aspects of physical contact.

Except she had no doubt that for her, these sensations would have been absent had her kisser been anyone other than Derek. She already dreaded the absence of his touch, so she wrapped her arms as tightly around him as she could and engaged her tongue with his, hoping to encourage him to continue this delicious experience.

That she’d surprised him seemed obvious because he paused for a split second, but then he continued with increased fervor. Abigail felt a moan of pleasure rising in her throat. She had no doubt it would have escaped had her father-in-law not chosen that particular moment to har-rump quite loudly.

She and Derek pulled back simultaneously and turned their heads to look at the Earl of Melton. His frown of disapproval warred with an understanding smile. “I quite see,” he said, “that the two of you dislike the idea of parting so soon, but it’s past time for you to be on your way, my son.”

Derek bit his lip as though trying to regain control over his emotions, then grasped Abigail’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze before turning away from her. “You’re right, sir.”

He bowed to his father, waved to the housekeeper, butler, and footman, and dashed down the steps. He mounted his horse and rode away without once looking back at Abigail.

Chapter Three

London, mid October 1813

Despite her desire for independence, Abigail couldn’t help feeling relieved when her father-in-law announced he would accompany her and Catherine to London. Although Catherine swore that she would behave herself, Abigail had no confidence in her friend’s judgment or self-control. Perhaps having the earl in residence at the town house would encourage caution on Catherine’s part.

They traveled to the city together on a sunny but chilly day in the earl’s luxurious traveling coach, arriving in late afternoon. Catherine’s cousin, Parsetta, had arrived the previous day and awaited them. She’d taken it upon herself to alert the servants, and the housekeeper had already assigned bedchambers. Lord Melton was to have the largest chamber with its dressing room and adjoining bedchamber. Abigail, as wife of the heir, was assigned the next largest bedchamber, and Catherine was a couple of doors down the hall. Cousin Parsetta was next door to Catherine.