“You have several close friends, I hear,” Abigail continued, looking up with teary eyes.
Leah nodded.
“That is good. Keep them close,” Abigail said softly as if to herself. “The love between friends is a woman’s greatest love. I realized it too late, but there is still hope for you.”
Leah could not bear it any longer. “Are you… quite well, Your Grace? Might I fetch you a handkerchief or ask for some tea?” She hesitated. “I did not mean to upset you. It is the very last thing that I want.”
“You did not upset me, dear,” Abigail replied, drawing a handkerchief out of her sleeve. “I upset myself. I have been doing that a lot as of late. It is London, I think, bringing back so many memories. Happier memories. Goodness, it feels as if they were lived by another woman.”
Leah nodded slowly. “My mother says that, sometimes.”
“She does?” Abigail dabbed her eyes.
“Usually, when she speaks of the days before she married my father,” Leah explained. “My mama has the most wonderful stories of her childhood in Northumberland, running somewhat wild with her sister and her friends. She lost her sister when she was young in a boating accident, but there is never any sadness when my mama speaks of her and the memories they shared; there is only this bright-eyed gratitude that the time they spent together was so… beautiful.”
A choked sound burbled from Abigail’s throat. “Goodness.”
“I have done it again, upsetting you.” Leah could have kicked herself.
But Abigail shook her head effusively. “Not at all. I was just thinking how wonderful it might have been to have a sister.” She glanced up at Leah, a tear escaping. “You have no siblings, do you?”
“None. I, too, have found myself wishing for a sister now and again, but the world saw fit to bring me four—not of blood but of heart,” Leah replied. “Are you certain I cannot bring you something? I would be happy to.”
Abigail expelled a steadying breath, straightening up as she blew into her handkerchief. “Let us have some tea. That never fails to raise my spirits.” She reached for a small silver bell and wiggled it, the musical tinkle ringing out through the drawing room.
The housekeeper appeared at the door a moment later. As soon as she saw Abigail’s obvious distress, the housekeeper’s eyes widened in alarm, her mouth parting slightly as if to ask what was wrong. But seeing Leah, she thought better of it. “Would you like the tea tray now, Your Grace?” she asked instead.
“Thank you, Agatha,” Abigail answered with a wan smile.
“At once, Your Grace. And I’ll put a few more cubes of sugar on the side for you, Your Grace,” the housekeeper said, backing out of the room.
It was a small, seemingly ordinary exchange, but Leah had seen something between the two older women that made her tight muscles relax. There had been a familiarity, a friendliness, a warmth between them, and only good people were friendly with their staff. Perhaps, there really was nothing to fear from the Dowager.
“I suppose you are wondering why I have summoned you here,” Abigail said, sitting up taller on the opposite settee.
Leah dared to smile. “It had crossed my mind. I do not think my family’s carriage required horses at all, for my nerves could have juddered the wheels all the way here.”
“I can see why he likes you,” Abigail remarked, smiling as she caught the last of her errant tears with her handkerchief. “You are amusing. A dying breed, unfortunately.”
“Goodness, do you know if it is catching? What awful ailment is afflicting those of us with a sense of humor?”
Abigail laughed, but it faded quickly. “I wish to apologize for my behavior at our first meeting, Leah. I know we have forged a sort of quiet civility since, but we might be better acquainted if I had not been so… awful at that dinner.”
“You did not know me, Your Grace, and I imagine you were ambushed by the news of our courtship. You have nothing to apologize for; you were merely being wary of a stranger,” Leah replied, grinning. “A stranger who, quite by accident, was in possession of one of your brooches. I must apologize again for that.”
Abigail waved a dismissive hand. “It was not your fault. Indeed, it was churlish of me to even mention it, for I have not worn it in years.” She sighed. “You see, I was annoyed with Nathaniel for finding a lady without my help. Every year, I have tried to seek suitable matches for him, and every year, he has refused them or rebuffed them or outright ignored them, so when he told me of you, I felt… unnecessary. Or that I had somehow wasted my efforts. It was silly, and I am sorry.”
Do not apologize to me, I beg of you,Leah urged silently, not wanting to add another name to the list of people who would be crushed when the ruse came to an end.
“For the past eight-and-twenty years, my sons have been my reason for existing and enduring,” Abigail went on, stilling Leah’s thoughts as she listened. “It is no exaggeration to say that Nathaniel saved my life in more ways than I can say. That is why I wanted to do this for him, to find someone for him who would care for him the way he has cared for me and his brother. I should have known that it was never for me to decide. I do not exactly have the best track record when it comes to love and marriage and… choosing wisely.”
Leah leaned forward, poised to ask what the Dowager meant, when the housekeeper returned with the tea tray. The neat, worried woman poured two cups and put a scone apiece on little plates, setting them in front of Leah and Abigail. For a moment, Leah feared that the housekeeper intended to stay, but after a few more concerned frowns and some wringing of her hands, the kindly woman retreated, closing the drawing room door behind her.
“I fell in love with a man who was not what he appeared to be,” Abigail continued, the very moment the door clicked into the jamb. “When we courted, he made me feel like I was a princess and he was a gallant knight, showering me with gifts, poetry, letters, sweet words, and affection unlike anything I had ever known. I was young—just turned six-and-ten—so I trusted what was in front of me. I did not understand deception or darkness or anything bad in the world back then. Do you understand?”
Leah nodded.More than you know.
“Within days of us being married, it was as if he had been replaced with… a monstrous twin,” Abigail continued. “Everything I did seemed to annoy him. I could not speak without being scolded, I could not enjoy anything without him making unkind remarks, and he would storm out of the manor for the tiniest reason, leaving me alone for days on end: I had set my fork down too loudly; he did not like the style of my hair; my cheeks were too rosy; I had looked at the footman a second too long. And fool that I was, I loved him so much that I did everything I could to please him, but that only seemed to anger him more. My entire existence became a crime to him, and for those crimes, I had to be punished.”
