His Perfect Game (21 page)

“Is that why you require the use of two maids?”

Tilting her head as if confused by his statement, Abigail swallowed her worry. Thinking back over the botched conversation in the garden made her stomach roll. He’d spoken politely but clearly he’d known something was amiss. Joshua hadn’t offered much help, but it appeared his minimal words had achieved more success than she and Sandra had.

“I do have two maids, but I can’t see how my illness accounts for them.”

He took a sip of his tea while studying her over the rim of the cup. “When I asked for you, I noticed your maid going out into the garden. Mistakenly believing you were enjoying the beautiful day, I followed her. As it turns out, she met with your other maid, who, I was told, needed to inform you I arrived with the first girl.”

“Oh, I see your confusion now. I don’t require two maid’s assistance at one time. As I’m not sure of Sandra’s motivations, I can’t answer for her. But, I can call her if you would like.” Abigail held her breath, waiting for his decision. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he insisted upon questioning Sandra.

“No, what your maid does is none of
my
affair.”

His tone made it clear he referred to her husband’s right to know what occurred on his estate. Considering his close relationship to Lord Merrick, she imagined his entire experience here would be detailed to her husband. The thought filled her with dread.

The remainder of their conversation passed in either small talk or uncomfortable silences. When he finally took his leave, Abigail slumped in relief. She genuinely liked Lord Jonathan, but her worry he would discover her secret put a strain on his visit.

Heading directly to her bedchamber, Abigail wasn’t surprised to see Sandra falling in step behind her. The girl had been shaken by Lord Jonathan’s sudden arrival.

“Did he suspect anything?” Sandra asked as soon as the door closed.

Abigail sat on the edge of the bed, trying to force the tension from her body. “Yes, but I’m not sure what.”

“What do you mean?”

“He knows I’m withholding something from him, but I don’t believe he has any idea what.”

Sandra sighed deeply then crossed the room to sit beside Abigail.

“I’m relieved your secret will not be revealed to Lord Merrick, but I think you need to give up being a servant, regardless.”

“Why?” Abigail’s heart constricted at the idea of losing her freedom.

“It’s only a matter of time before you are caught. Also, I can’t stand seeing that gardener treating you like you are beneath him.”

“Joshua isn’t cruel or mean. Besides, he doesn’t know to act any better toward me.”

Abigail couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Sandra. From the beginning Sandra had been the one encouraging her and planning everything. Either Lord Jonathan had scared Sandra more than Abigail suspected, or something more happened that she didn’t say.

“I still believe you need to end this charade.”

“Please tell me what is really going on,” Abigail pleaded.

Sandra turned her face and sat silently for a long moment. When she stood and crossed the room, Abigail worried she would leave, but she stopped halfway to the door.

“There has been some talk,” Sandra began. “It isn’t your fault, but since you are playing two roles, you don’t have time to befriend anyone below stairs.”

“Are you telling me the staff already knows my secret?” Abigail’s breathing increased. If someone wrote to her husband in London, describing her deception, surely he would require proof. Was that why Lord Jonathan arrived unannounced, to check up on her?

The idea of her husband knowing of her charade shot her to her feet. Her body filled with the desire to act, but there was nothing she could do. Thoughts and plans flooded her mind as she grew desperate to prevent disaster, but none of them were feasible. She could only wait for him to come and punish her for her trickery.

“No. It’s nothing like that.”

It took a few moments for Sandra’s words to sink in and calm Abigail’s racing mind. Gently sitting back down, she took a deep breath and then slowly released the air.

“Then what is the talk about?”

“Both Matthews and Mrs. Coushings have discovered several items have gone missing. Although they have questioned most of the staff, the consensus is that you are the thief.”

Abigail’s mouth dropped open. The fact such a thing had happened shocked her, but that she was suspected confounded her. She had never done anything that could be misconstrued as dishonest.

“Why me?”

“Like I said, they don’t know you. Also, the problems began since your ‘employment,’ so some of them are trying to make a connection.”

“What about our quarters? Give them our permission to search the room.”

“They don’t need permission. Mrs. Coushings conducted the search this morning. That is why she has not approached you directly, but rumors are still being spread.”

A sick feeling rested in the pit of her stomach. Although she didn’t think living two lives would be easy, she’d never imagined this sort of complication. Surely normal people didn’t get accused of thievery.

Biting her lip, she thought over her options. If she allowed her maid persona to quit her position, she would be forbidden from ever being herself again. On the other hand, if she confessed, Lord Merrick would be notified. Only one choice remained available.

“Then tomorrow I’ll present myself, as a maid, to them. I’ll undergo any interrogations necessary in order to clear my name.”

“But, my lady, if you told them who you really are, they would—”

“No. That is asking too much.” Abigail squared her shoulders. “In the morning, I’ll face my fate head on and deal with the consequences.”

Abigail had no idea what the outcome would be. She just hoped she didn’t clear her name only to have the theft bring her husband to Merrick, regardless.

Chapter 12

Greyson tossed back his brandy then poured another. The situation with Algers had pushed him too far. Although he’d spent a great deal of money purchasing information, the updates had all come back the same. No one knew where Algers had disappeared to so quickly. Greyson took another long draw. He wanted to forget about Algers and move on, but a nagging sense in the back of his mind would not let him. He would not forgive himself if something happened to Lady Merrick.

Unlike before, Greyson now fully realized why Richard had given up his share of Ravenhurst. Knowing the club had brought about the threat to his wife gave Greyson a sour taste in his mouth. Why would he continue putting his time and effort in an endeavor that could bring more trouble for him or his wife?

“A little early to be drinking, is it not?” Jonathan asked from the doorway.

Greyson inwardly cringed. He’d not expected his friend to be back in London so soon. Since Jonathan had left to spend time with his ailing father, Greyson thought he would be gone for quite a while.

“How is your father?”

“Spry enough to kick me out of the house.” Jonathan grabbed an empty glass and filled it. “He claims the doctors are wrong, and he will live to be one hundred.”

“I suppose that is a good sign.”

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders as he refilled his glass. “With as hard as that man is, I doubt death wants to take him anyway.”

Seeing a sadness pass through Jonathan’s eyes, Greyson felt sorry for him. He’d grown up with acceptance from his father, but ridicule from everyone else. Jonathan, on the other hand, was accepted by everyone but his father.

“Easy with the brandy.” Greyson held his hand over the decanter as Jonathan reached to fill his glass a third time. “I thought you said the hour was too early for drinking.”

“Too early for you, my friend, not for me.” Jonathan set his glass down and leaned back in his chair. “So is there anything new to report?”

“Unfortunately not. Algers is gone, and frankly I’m getting tired of the whole situation.” Greyson pressed his fingers to his forehead, wondering if he should tell his friend what he had been thinking.

“What situation are you referring to?” A pained look crossed Jonathan’s face.

Greyson worried over his friend’s distress. Did Jonathan know he wanted to sell his share of the club? If so, was the idea of being sole owner of Ravenhurst causing him discomfort? Although Greyson didn’t wish to upset his friend, he could no longer continue like this.

“Ravenhurst. As much as the club has done for me personally, I hate to leave it, but look at the trouble it caused. Lady Stonemede barely escaped unscathed. Now my wife . . .” Greyson could not continue. Unlike Richard’s wife, danger loomed for Lady Merrick.

“I suspected your thoughts were leaning this direction for some time now. Although I’ll miss your management, I believe you trained Nathaniel well, so I will not have to detract from my more pleasurable activities.” Jonathan winked. “Besides, you will always hold your membership.”

Greyson wanted to experience relief from Jonathan’s response, but he still felt his friend’s uneasiness.

“I have no reason to rush my plans. If you would prefer I continue longer, I would be happy to oblige.”

“Don’t do so on my account. I haven’t decided how I will proceed. Who knows, I may sell to Barton’s after all.”

“Then I’ll have my solicitor draw up the papers.”

“Very good.”

“Now that this is settled, tell me about your visit to Merrick. Is my wife as blissfully happy as she expected to be?” Greyson could not stop his bitterness from escaping.

Instead of being a relaxing change of subject, Greyson was surprised to see Jonathan’s discomfort grow. His friend stood and walked across the room without looking at him directly. Greyson’s heart sped up. What had happened? He had not received any news of Lady Merrick suffering from any harm.

“Yes, I believe she is.” Jonathan’s tone held no emotion.

“What is it?” Greyson demanded. “What are you not telling me?”

Jonathan took a deep breath before turning to face him. “She’s cuckolding you.”

Greyson reeled back. It could not be true. His innocent wife had been clear in her desire to avoid intimacy and had rejected his advances. How could she throw herself into the arms of another man less than two months after being apart from him? The answer to the question burned in his mind, but he refused to acknowledge it.

“Are you certain?” Greyson chest constricted with inner turmoil.

“Yes. From what I heard, Lady Merrick is rarely seen by the staff. They believe she is a sickly woman as she only manages to leave her bedchamber once or twice a day.”

“Perhaps the country weather isn’t agreeable to her delicate constitution.” Greyson felt relieved to latch on to another explanation so quickly. He couldn’t accept Jonathan’s claims.

“I assumed as much until I sent her maid to fetch her. The girl turned toward the staircase, but I saw her quickly alter her direction. Had I not previously been acquainted with the layout of your house, I would have thought nothing of it.”

“Did you follow her?” Greyson poured a brandy knowing he would need the help to listen to the rest of the story. Gazing at the amber liquid, his stomach rolled, but he downed it regardless. The burn gave him comfort, unlike anything else in the room.

“She went out to speak with another maid in the garden. When I questioned her, she explained the girl was an additional maid, hired by your wife. Both of them appeared flustered by my appearance.”

“Did they collect Lady Merrick or deny you an audience?”

“I was sent to the drawing room to wait for her. When she arrived, she’d clearly dressed in a hurry. Her gown was askew and several times I noticed her tugging on it. And her hair. I can’t even begin to describe how . . . how unnatural it looked.”

Greyson stared past Jonathan, seeing his wife in his mind’s eye. He wanted to deny the validity, to rebuke the claims, but he could not. There were too many details, too many facts painting the picture. After all the years of mistreatment he endured, he had never felt so betrayed.

“When I suggested you check on my wife, I didn’t notify her first. It wasn’t my intention to catch her unaware. I simply didn’t want to give her an opportunity to question my decision.” Greyson heard the hollowness echoing in his voice.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you, but . . .”

“I know, and I thank you.” Greyson rubbed his head. “If there is nothing else, I believe I need some time to think.”

“Of course.” Jonathan nodded, shot him a reluctant glance, then left.

As Greyson sat, staring unseeingly ahead, the shock from the news faded. His wife had never cared for him, so her decision to turn to another must have been easy. Greyson slammed his hand down on his desk. This wasn’t the way of things. She’d agreed to bear his heirs, and until then, she had no right to share her body with another man.

Determined to fix this, Greyson shot to his feet. As he exited the study, he noticed the silver salver filled with invitations. For so many years he’d longed to see such an amount addressed to him. However, observing the pile now only increased his anger.

He grabbed the offending salver and tossed it across the room. Seeing the letters strewn along the floor didn’t ease his anger. Stomping past the mess and up the stairs, he called for Holland. He would have his belongings packed immediately.

Lady Merrick should beware, for he was coming, and he fully intended to teach her lover a lesson. Then he would lock her in her bedchamber until she forgot about any other man but him.

“He is here.” The breeze wafted through the garden, bringing Sandra’s soft voice.

Hearing those three words out of Sandra’s mouth sent Abigail’s heart beating wildly. She had been waiting to hear word from her husband, but she didn’t expect him to come himself to discover what Lord Jonathan missed.

“When did he arrive?” Abigail whispered so Joshua would not overhear them.

“No longer than ten minutes. Quick, we have to get you ready to receive him before he notices you missing.”

Abigail dropped her trowel and rose swiftly. Although panicked, she was grateful Sandra discovered his arrival so soon.