His Perfect Game (31 page)

“I will. Thank you both.” Tabitha looked at them with tears in her eyes. “I can’t say how pleased I am to be accepted by members of Lord Hauney’s family.”

The girl was sweet, and Abigail was pleased her brother found such a good match. She just hoped no problems would arise from Tabitha being under the same roof as her father. He wasn’t a very forgiving man. If he believed Tabitha to be the cause of Braiden’s newfound independence, it would not be good for her. Abigail would have to keep an eye out for her. Tabitha had no idea what the duke was capable of.

Chapter 18

“We can’t keep doing this.” Greyson leaned his head back on the sofa in his study, trying to catch his breath.

“I know.” Abigail shrugged, climbing off of him.

When her skirt fell into place, covering her delectable legs, she shot him a look of innocence. Besides slightly swollen lips, no one would have guessed she just shared an intense, pleasurable experience with him. Although he didn’t want their stolen moments to end, he knew they were taking chances.

During the past two weeks with their guests, everything appeared to run smoothly on the surface. He could only feel the undercurrent of tension when the duke was present. Greyson wondered how a man so loved by Society could have so many unresolved issues within his own family.

Shaking off the thoughts of everyone else, he stood and fastened his trousers. Abigail smiled seductively and sauntered toward him. She slid her hands up his chest and wrapped them around his neck. Unable to resist her, he pulled her in tighter and captured her lips.

She curled one leg around his while unfastening his shirt buttons. He groaned, then stopped her busy fingers. His wife was insatiable. Under normal circumstances, he would be overjoyed with that knowledge, but as it stood, every second she spent in his company offered another opportunity for someone to find them.

“Why are you so unconcerned with being caught?” he asked.

“First of all, you worry enough for the both of us. Secondly, I have been sneaking to see you for over a week now, and no one has noticed.”

“All secrets eventually come out in the open, Abigail. It’s only a matter of time.”

He intended his words to hold a double meaning, and from her wide eyes, he could tell she understood. She may never plan to tell him her true identity, but he refused to be put off forever. He would give her a chance, and if she didn’t take it, he would confront her. Silently, he cursed himself for having invited the guests to stay a whole month, for he could do nothing while they remained.

She turned and walked toward the door. “Not if you are careful.”

“Even the most planned out—”

“Greyson, please don’t ruin this. Sometimes I feel so trapped, but with you . . . with you, I feel so free.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

Having no desire to increase her pain, he went up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She shuddered as his lips grazed her neck. He would do whatever she needed him to do. He would be whatever she needed.

“Then you win. When you need me or just want me, I’m here.”

“Thank you.” She turned, lightly pressed her lips to his, then left the room.

Greyson stood there, staring at the door for a minute or two before he returned to his desk. He couldn’t even remember what he had been working on before she so wonderfully interrupted. No longer caring, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

His wife remained a puzzle, and he began to fear he would never solve her. Part of him wanted to drag her back in here and make her confess everything. However, the other side feared her reaction to discovering he knew her secret. He wished someone could come out and tell him how to fix this.

A knock at the door stopped his contemplation. He had at least another two weeks before their guests departed, and he could actually do something about his wife. Relaxing his face, he granted entrance.

“Can I intrude?” Hauney asked, opening the door.

“Certainly. Have a seat. Is everything all right?” Greyson felt uncomfortable with Hauney’s obvious nervousness.

“Everything has been superb, and Lady Tabitha appears to be having an enjoyable time.” The hesitation in Hauney’s tone clearly indicated he wanted to say something entirely different.

“I’m pleased to hear it. I was thinking of arranging a hunt later on. Do you believe the men would be interested?”

“I’m not sure about my father, but Winston and I certainly would welcome the opportunity.”

“Then that settles it.” Greyson surveyed the man with his accessing gaze. As anticipated, Hauney squirmed under the intensity.

Hauney took a deep breath. “I came here today because I wanted to talk to you about my sister.”

Greyson’s eyebrows rose, not expecting his wife to be the reason for Hauney’s visit. Thinking over her behavior as Lady Merrick over the past fortnight, he didn’t see anything to cause her brother concern. She appeared happy and acted as a good hostess. The only discomfort she displayed occurred in the duke’s presence.

“What is your concern?” Greyson kept his tone neutral.

“I don’t wish to cause any problems, but I can’t stay silent any longer. What you are doing isn’t fair to her.”

This is exactly what he’d warned Abigail of only moments ago. He’d noticed Hauney lurking around, making him wonder how long the man had known. Regardless, Greyson would now have to pay for his perceived crime. Although explaining how he did nothing wrong would be easy, he refused to betray his wife.

“What am I doing that is so unfair?”

Hauney shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then he fixed his eyes on Greyson. “Engaging in a relationship with a maid right under her nose. I know she’s been sick lately, but that gives you no excuse. Even worse, you flaunt your infidelity in front of her family.”

Steepling his fingers on the desk, Greyson waited until Hauney finished. “I understand your concern and will take your words under consideration.”

“That is your response? Have you even considered how she would feel if she found out? Abigail has always been such a sweet girl.”

“Abigail?” Greyson repressed his shock, wondering why Hauney would claim to know the maid.

“Yes. Willimena Abigail Thorpe, my sister. She hates her first name and has gone by Abigail since we were children. Does she actually prefer you call her Willimena?”

“What I call my wife is irrelevant.” Although he understood her reasons, he couldn’t help the twinge of pain that shot through him. She didn’t even trust him with her preferred name. As a matter of fact, she’d never even given him leave to use her Christian name either.

“Of course. Now about the maid—”

“Don’t concern yourself over my dealings. Simply know that no matter what I do, I have my wife’s best interest at heart.”

Hauney’s eyes narrowed as he studied Greyson’s face. Greyson was accustomed to bestowing such scrutiny, but he wasn’t used to receiving it. Remaining still, he allowed the man to continue to seek out whatever answer he sought. Finally Hauney’s face softened as he leaned back in his chair.

“Although I don’t understand how you possibly could, I feel compelled to believe you.”

The admission gave Greyson some relief. The last thing he needed was Hauney worrying over his every move, or, worse, demanding to defend his sister’s honor. This visit came as a peace offering, and Greyson decided to heed its warning. Until her family left, he would not touch Abigail again.

Abigail sat back and surveyed her handiwork. The strangled mess of weeds had been removed, leaving the delicate winter flowers room to grow. The chore made her feel good, and, more importantly, made her feel like herself again.

For weeks now she’d been working inside or playing the part of Lady Merrick. The housework had become tedious and no matter what she did, in too short a time, it would be ruined and she had to begin again. The garden, on the other hand, grew and blossomed with only the slightest amount of redoing.

Collecting her tools, she rose and came face-to-face with Julia. Abigail specifically chose this section of garden for its distance from the manor and its lack of eye-catching scenery. Obviously her cousin didn’t choose the path a typical person would.

Quickly dropping her head, Abigail murmured “excuse me,” and sidestepped her cousin. Unfortunately she saw the questioning look in her cousin’s eyes, and she knew Julia would not leave her alone. Abigail cringed as footsteps fell in behind her, confirming her downfall.

“Wait a minute,” Julia called.

Abigail didn’t stop and increased her pace instead.

“Abigail, stop. I know it’s you, so you don’t have to run. I’ll find you eventually.”

Defeated, she slumped her shoulders and faced her cousin. Julia’s eyes twinkled as if her statement had only been a speculation. Abigail silently cursed herself for falling for the trick. Now her cousin knew the truth.

“What are you doing out here?” Abigail decided to pretend she wasn’t dressed like a servant. “The West Garden holds a wider variety of breathtaking flowers, even this time of year.”

“The better question would be, What you are doing here? Especially dressed like that with your hair showing. And your voice. When did your Scottish accent return?”

“I find gardening to be relaxing, and I certainly can’t wear my fine clothing to do it in. The accent is the true me. When I’m comfortable, it comes naturally.”

“And the hair?”

“The powder does not hold up well for long periods in the sun.” Abigail was pleased to be able to explain to her cousin without having to lie.

Julia nodded, seemingly satisfied. As they turned and walked back toward the manor, Abigail felt overwhelmed with relief. If anyone else had caught her like this, they would not understand, whereas Julia didn’t even blink.

“It’s a lovely day to be outside. I’d hoped Winston would be back by now, but with the day being so fine, they may never come back to us.”

“I think we hold more appeal than an everlasting hunt. Besides, Lord Merrick said they planned on returning before dinner.”

“You speak very formally of your husband. I would have thought you would be beyond that, considering he allows you to present yourself as a servant.”

Abigail’s cheeks heated. She wished she had not brought up her husband. Although Julia readily accepted other things, she could never understand the complicated relationship she shared with Greyson. At times, she herself didn’t comprehend it.

“He does not exactly know I do this.”

“How could he not? Has he not seen you out here?”

“He has not known me as long as you, so he can’t tell. Besides, he has no idea what my natural hair color is.”

Julia lifted one eyebrow as she shot Abigail a skeptical look. Choosing to ignore her cousin’s reaction, she went into the shed to replace her tools. After she emerged, Julia naturally headed toward the front entrance, but Abigail hesitated. In this costume, she had no right to use that door, but she didn’t want Julia to discover the extent of her charade.

As they walked through the entryway, Abigail’s eyes darted around for anyone who could catch her. Luckily no one saw her. Then she heard her father and suppressed a shudder. If he were to see her like this, the punishment would be severe.

“I didn’t do anything,” Tabitha said in a high-pitched voice. “Please leave me alone.”

Abigail recognized the panic, and her heart stopped. She had been in that exact situation too many times not to recognize what was happening. She could see the cane in her mind’s eye.

Forgetting about protecting herself, she left Julia and ran to the drawing room. Tabitha had no idea what the duke did in the way of retribution for the slightest thing he perceived as wrong.

“Braiden might be blinded, but I know what you are. You must be punished.”

“Lady Tabitha,” Abigail called out, then shrank back when her father turned to her, his face red with fury. “Lady Lorrian is requesting to see you at once.”

“Tell her she is busy,” her father practically growled. His eyes shifted to the left, and his anger seemed to lessen.

“She can’t, Uncle,” Julia said from behind her. “Tabitha’s mother was very specific.”

Tabitha hurried around the duke to stand with them. Abigail’s hands shook as her father’s eyes narrowed at her. No recognition existed in his face. She could not be sure if that was a good thing or not. Turning from him, they hurried out of the room. Not trusting the safety of anywhere else, Abigail took them upstairs to her bedchamber.

“I don’t think we should be in here. Lady Merrick would not appreciate it,” Tabitha said, trembling.

“Actually, I don’t mind,” Abigail replied using the accent Tabitha would recognize.

“Abigail? You don’t look like yourself at all. With such beautiful hair, why would you hide it?”

Abigail took a deep breath, knowing it was time to tell Tabitha about her father. “It’s because of my father. As you might have noticed, he abhors the color. That is his sole reason for disliking you, and why I hide my natural shade.”

“That is ridiculous. How can he treat someone so badly based on the color of their hair? It isn’t like we have a choice.”

“Uncle Hammond has always had strange views on some topics. I remember my mother telling me not to speak to him when he was in certain moods.”

“What am I supposed to do? He cornered me in the drawing room as if lying in wait for me.” Tabitha’s tone rose higher.

“Then we will not leave you alone. Between the two of us, Braiden, and your mother, there is no reason why you will have to be alone,” Abigail promised.

“Thank you. Do you think I should tell Lord Hauney?”

“I’m not sure.” Julia looked over at Abigail.

“Considering nothing really happened, I think my brother may believe you are overreacting. He has worshiped my father since he was very young.”

Both women nodded. Although Abigail hated that Tabitha had to go through this, she could not help the relief she felt. Since receiving a warning, Abigail knew Tabitha would steer clear of the duke, therefore keeping safe. Abigail only hoped she could do the same for herself.

After leaving his study, Greyson headed toward the door leading to the garden. In the past week, he had not been visited by Abigail, and he wondered if she took his words to heart. This time of day she typically donned her maid’s costume while the other ladies rested in their rooms, but she had not come to him. Although pleased he no longer had to worry about getting caught, his anxiousness to see her and ascertain if he had done something wrong preyed on his mind.