Miss Foxworth's Fate (6 page)

Abby glanced at the card and waved him away with a sigh.

“Still a much sought-after young miss, ain’t you?”

“Oh Grandmama, it’s such a...a...
bloody
nuisance,” sighed Abigail.

Grandmama snorted. “Pah, gel. Let them worship you. It’s only the ones who’ll touch your heart you need be interested in. And it doesn’t sound like there’s many of those yet, hmm?”

“Only one, Grandmama. Only one.” Abby’s whisper was almost lost as the long-suffering butler reentered, bearing yet another tissue-wrapped package.

This one, however, was not an enormously colorful arrangement of flowers presented fashionably by some local florist. With a slight frown, Abby unrolled the tissue, curious now about this unusual offering.

Inside lay a single rose. Brilliant flares of orange and pink dazzled her eyes, and the fragrance was lush and overwhelming. The stem was carefully wrapped and tied with a glittering golden ribbon.

Abby touched it carefully with her finger. “How beautiful,” she murmured, entranced by the unusual bloom.

“My,” said the Dowager. “
Someone
knows his flowers. “

Abby paid no attention, having reached for the sealed letter which accompanied the rose.

She read its contents silently and leaned back, the lace on her gown rising and falling more rapidly than the arrival of a mere rose should warrant.

“
Dear Abigail,

Forgive me. I moved too fast last night. Will you give us a chance to get to know each other? To find out more about how we think, what ideas we share? Let me make amends for my behavior?

I do hope so. I shall take the liberty of calling at Foxworth House at eleven, in the hopes that I may persuade you to drive with me today.

Please say yes, Abby. It’s my dearest wish to spend time with you, but if the answer is ‘no’, I shall do my best to respect it. Just send the message back with the delivery boy, and I shall return to the country. Alone. And lonely.

Yrs, Philip

P.S. The rose reminded me of you.
”

“Well,” said the Dowager. “Sounds like this Philip fellow might be an interesting companion.”

Abby gasped and snatched the note back from her grandmother’s grasp, but too late to prevent her from reading it.

“Grandmama. How
could
you? That was private.” Abby felt her cheeks color and couldn’t quite meet her grandmother’s knowing gaze.

“Sweetheart,” said the old woman. “Some things are certainly private. But my old eyes tell me that you’re far from happy this morning. I want to know why, and this...” she nodded at the note, “gives me a sizeable clue.”

Abigail pushed back from the table and did what she always did when uncomfortable. She paced. “It’s from Sir Philip Ashton, Grandmama. I met him last night. He’s the one who gave the demonstration and lecture on Mesmerism at Lady Rachel Greenhough’s.”

“Ah,” answered her grandmother, settling in her chair and patiently waiting.

“Ah what?” said Abby, twisting her fingers as she walked.

“
Ah
as in he’s the man who’s got your corsets in a knot this morning, is he?”

“No. Yes. Perhaps, I don’t know.”

“Excellent,” grinned the Dowager wickedly.

“Excellent?
Excellent
? It’s no such thing,” retorted Abby. “The man’s a dull and boring scientist. He lives permanently in the country messing about with scientific things, according to his sister.”

“Ah,” said her grandmother again.

“You’re repeating yourself, Grandmama,” said Abby dryly.

“And I’ll do so for as long as I choose, miss, until you say something useful, and stop spouting silliness.”

“Silliness? What silliness? What do you want me to say?”

“Oh, let me see. Tell me about him. What he looks like, for example.”

Abigail paused, looking out the window but seeing only Philip Ashton. “Well, he’s tall. That’s one good thing about him.”

“The only good thing?” prompted the Dowager.

“Well, no. He does have a fine build to him...”

“That’s good. Go on, gel, go on...”

“His hair is dark, Grandmama. Very dark. Like midnight silk. And longer than many wear it these days. It brushes his shoulders. And his skin is a little darker than normal too. As if he spends time outside in the sunshine...”

“I see,” mumbled the Dowager softly.

“But the one thing that you can’t forget, once you’ve met him, is his eyes.”

“Tell me about them, Abby,” said the old woman, leaning back in her chair and watching her granddaughter with an interested gleam.

Abby struggled for words. “They’re blue. Well, not exactly blue. More like blue with gold flecks in them. They’re like...they’re like...sort of like the setting sun as it dances over the waves of a very blue ocean. They’re like no eyes I’ve ever seen...” Her voice trailed off as a shiver ran over her skin at the memory of those eyes blazing with passion.

The Dowager’s harsh cackle interrupted her thoughts. “Well, well, my dear. He sounds like an interesting man.”

Abby huffed a wry laugh. “Oh he is that, Grandmama.”

“And the problem, then, would be?”

“He’s going too fast. Moving too fast. I’m afraid...I’m scared that I’ll...”

“Toss up your skirts and spread your thighs for him?”

The quick and inappropriate comment surprised a chuckle out of Abby. “No, not that. I’d rather like
that
, I think.”

She blushed. Thankfully, her grandmother didn’t. “Well, that’s good. So what is it about him that scares you?”

Abby shook her head, unable to answer that question.

“Come here, gel.” The Dowager beckoned to Abby. “You’re not your mother, child.”

Abby’s face froze as she knelt by the old woman’s chair. “I...I...”

“Listen to me, Abigail. Women love in different ways, with different amounts of passion, and lust, and desire, and all the mad wildness that goes along with it.”

Abby swallowed, hard. A lump had risen in her throat and she found herself incapable of answering.

The Dowager’s wrinkled hand caressed Abby’s cheek in a loving gesture. “You’re a fine and intelligent woman, my girl, your father raised you well.”

Abby made as if to speak, but found herself silenced by a cool finger pressed to her lips.

“I’m thinking you’d be wise to give this Philip another chance. For today, lay your memories and worries aside, and just be yourself, the happy, bright, clever woman I know you are. Spend time with him. Learn about him. Put all other thoughts away for the time being. Have some
fun
, Abby.”

Abby sighed. Fun. What a novel notion in connection with a man.

“And if he steals a few kisses, so what? Maybe even a touch or two, here or there? Especially
there
...”

A wicked gleam entered the Dowager’s eyes, and Abby knew her cheeks were now on fire. “Grandmama, you’re outrageous,” she giggled, her heart lightening as she realized her decision had been made.

The butler tapped politely on the door. “Will there be any return message, Miss Abigail? The lad’s still waiting...”

Abby stood and shook out her skirts. “There will be no return message, Jenkins, thank you. And Sir Philip Ashton will be arriving at eleven to accompany me on a drive. When he gets here, show him into the front parlor, will you?”

“Very good, Miss,” said the butler, and withdrew, shutting the door behind him.

“Good girl,” said the Dowager, rising slowly from her chair and leaning on her cane. “I’ll deal with that ninnyhammer Eugenia. She won’t be up until long after you’ve left, anyway.”

She closed the distance between them and dropped a light powdery kiss on her granddaughter’s cheek.

“Let the past go, sweetheart. Your present and your future are all that matters now. Find out if Philip is the one you want to share them with. Open your mind and your heart to the possibility. But don’t open your legs until you’re damned sure.”

Abby’s laugh rang out, a mixture of shock and amusement. Mostly amusement. “Grandmama, I love you so dearly. I have no idea what I’d do without you.”

The old woman smiled. “It’s mutual, gel. Now go and pick out your prettiest dress. And make sure it’s not too heavily laced, either. Frustration don’t look good on a man.”

Abby giggled and blushed, and tried to stop her heart from jumping at the visions her grandmother’s words had aroused.

She was going driving with Philip Ashton.

And God help her, she couldn’t wait.

*~~*~~*

Philip Ashton’s heart thumped loudly as he handed Abigail Foxworth up into his curricle. He hadn’t run a mile or carried a heavy load up a long and winding set of stairs, yet he felt just as winded.

The mere sight of her, waiting for him, had been all it took to remove his breath, quicken his pulse, and send a bolt of longing through his breeches.

She wore some filmy gown of cream and green, and her hair was neatly coiled beneath a light bonnet with a broad brim. He’d have that damned thing off her at the earliest possible moment. He wanted to see her face, her lips, her green eyes laughing at him then turning emerald with desire.

He wanted—he sighed. He wanted Abigail.

And today was a new chance to find out if he could make her want him just as much.

“Thank you,” he said to her as he grasped the reins and dismissed his tiger.

“For what, Sir Philip?”

The answer was formal but polite, betraying no hint of what might be going on in this woman’s mind.

“For forgiving me. For agreeing to come with me today and enjoy this lovely weather we’re having.”

He could have kicked himself. The
weather
, for God’s sake. He must sound like the veriest idiot.

She chuckled. Well, perhaps she liked idiots. Philip’s spirits lifted at the happy sound.

“In truth, Sir Philip, I feel that it is I who owe you an apology.”

He risked a glance down beneath the brim of her bonnet to peer at her face. “You do?”

“Indeed I do.” She twisted her hands in her lap. Good, she was nervous. She wouldn’t be nervous if she didn’t feel
anything
.

“I must apologize for losing my temper the way I did. I have never struck a man before, and I do feel quite awful about it,” she said quietly.

Philip carefully steered his pair through the traffic and away from the bustle of the city streets as he considered her words. He took a breath. “I forgive
you
.”

She turned her head and grinned at him. His guts tightened at the beautiful sight.

“Thank you.” Her voice was warm. “Please put it down to the rather confused emotions I was experiencing at the time. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Oh, but I’m hoping it will, Abby.”

She jerked her face upwards towards him again. “You do? You want me to strike you?”

He laughed. “No, not that. You deliver quite a punch, there. I swear you loosened a few teeth.”

She bit her lip against a laugh, obviously not put out by his gentle teasing.

“But I’d like to experience more of those ‘confused emotions’ you spoke of.“ He couldn’t help his honesty.

She dipped her head, but not before he’d caught a glimpse of the color flying into her cheeks. It would seem that the lady herself might not be averse to the notion of sharing some more experiences. She made no demur, just gazed from the curricle as the city streets turned into country lanes.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked.

“A friend of mine has a small estate not far from here. Augustus James. Ever hear of him?”

Abigail was silent for a moment then nodded. “Yes. He’s the man who does some astronomical observations, isn’t he?”

Philip smiled. “Indeed he is. It would seem you share my fascination with the sciences. Not many young women would recognize the name.”

Any lingering awkwardness between them rapidly disappeared as their conversation moved into the path of scientific investigation, theories and a lively discussion of the pros and cons of electricity and what it might mean to their futures.

The miles slipped by as the curricle made its way through the sunlit countryside, and Abby seemed surprised when they eased into a small turn off and the horses halted. “Why have we stopped? Are we here?”

“Not quite. There’s something I must do first,” said Philip.

His hands slipped to her chin and tugged at the ribbon securing her bonnet. He loosened the knot and pulled the offending headgear away from her head, tossing it behind him, where his own hat immediately followed.

“Forgive me, Abigail, but that damned thing hides your face. I want to see you when we talk. Watch your eyes light up, and your smile...” He leaned closer to her, noticing her green eyes blazing as his grasp pulled her chin to within inches of his. “I can’t wait,” he breathed.

With the lightest of touches he brushed her lips with his. The smile he’d been waiting for curved her mouth as he moved back, and a glow began deep in her emerald depths.

“That was...that was most pleasant, Philip,” she said, huskily.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?”

Abby cleared her throat. “But a bit risky, given that we’re in a public lane where anyone could see.”

His brain snickered. If she wanted to see
risky
, she should take a look inside his mind and peek at some of the visions he was having right about now. He sighed. “Not much further.”

He clicked up his horses, and as promised a tidy little estate came into view less than fifteen minutes later. Driving over the gravel road, they found themselves at the foot of a set of stairs leading to a building with walls of warm grey-brown stone.

It was small compared to some other country homes, but had an air of contentment about it, as if it was quite happy the way it was, and so were its residents.

None of whom, apparently, had been notified of their arrival. The front court was empty, and the door closed.

“Is anyone home?” asked Abigail curiously.

“Don’t know,” answered Philip. “I did send a message, but Augustus is notoriously absent-minded when it comes to visitors. He may be here, he may not. It makes no matter. I have a key.”