“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you knew what you were doing.” Abby took off her bonnet and stripped off her gloves. Bunching them together, she hurled them across the room.
Looking around at the duck-egg-blue walls and gold drapes, she knew how lucky she was to live as she did, but that did not stop her wishing for more. Meeting Daniel had confirmed what form that more could be.
Freedom to be herself.
Her relationship with her brothers had been strained of late, so they’d taken her to the flower festival today—and of course Mrs. Secomb. She’d agreed, and even enjoyed it until she’d found Daniel. He’d stood there with his niece and nephew, and her chest had grown tight. Handsome, yes, but there was so much more to him that she did not know but wanted to. Those children had been content with him. They loved him, and she wanted to know what made up the man that enamored her.
“And that was not likely to happen.” Abby pulled off one of her half boots and hurled it across the room. It hit the door with a far more satisfying clunk than the gloves had.
The humiliation over what her brothers had done almost made her wish she never had to leave this room. When her back was turned, they had confronted Daniel, simply because they’d seen her speaking with him.
Yes, they had reason to be angry, but they didn’t know that. God willing, they never would.
Looking at the paper on her small desk, she thought about writing to her aunt in Devon. Aunt Louisa was like a mother to her and had been since her mother’s death. She would understand and likely write a strongly worded letter to Gabe.
Sinking onto the bed, Abby wondered what Daniel thought of her now.
She’d been wrong not to tell him who she was, but for a brief time she’d wanted to be someone different. Not the sister of four fiercely protective brothers, one who was an earl, but just Abby. Companion to a crotchety old lady.
He would never forgive her. She’d deceived him, and he would see only that and not her reasons why. Abby loathed lies, and she was sure he was no different.
The thud of feet approaching her door alerted her to the confrontation that was about to occur.
“Abby! Open this bloody door!” These words came with a fist hammering on the wood.
“No.” She fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her heart hurt that she would not see Daniel again. What did that mean?
“How could you catch a hackney like that? It was foolish and irresponsible! Anyone could have grabbed you.”
Sitting upright, she glared at the door.
“Yes, because women are always being plucked right off the street, in fact every minute of every day!”
“Don’t be flippant with me!”
The frustration and rage inside her were suddenly like the molten lava of a volcano she’d read about in one of the books in her brother’s library.
“You want us to treat you like a responsible adult and then you do something like this!” His fist thumped on the door again, making it shudder. “You can bloody well stay home tonight and think about your actions.”
“Go to hell!”
“What did you say?” The door handle rattled ominously. “Don’t you dare speak in such a vulgar way!”
Abby went to the door so Gabe would hear her every word clearly.
“Your behavior today was humiliating. I am not likely to forgive you for a very long time… if ever! You and the others masquerade as noblemen, but you are a pack of wild animals!”
“You’re hysterical.”
She wasn’t hysterical; she was angry.
“Go to hell,” she muttered again, because she couldn’t think of anything else.
“Vulgarity is unbecoming in a lady.”
“You’re calling me vulgar when you behave as you do! Whores, drinking, and gambling! You and those other fools I am related to have absolutely no right to speak to me about vulgarity!”
“Open this door now, and we will talk, Abigail.”
She knew what would come next. He would calm down and reason with her. However, she was far from calm.
“I don’t like you very much at the moment, Gabriel, so I think it best I don’t.”
“You left Mrs. Secomb behind, which is inexcusable.”
That hadn’t been good of her, but she’d had provocation.
“Abby, please open the door.”
Clamping her lips together, she knew that continuing this discussion now was fruitless. She’d provoked him enough. Instead she returned to her bed and settled against the headboard. Picking up the letter from her cousin Georgiana, she reread every word.
I miss you, Abby. Miss the stories you would make up and fun we had together. Life is very quiet in the village since you left.
Georgie was Aunt Louisa’s daughter, and they’d always been friends, even though there were three years between them. The sister she’d never had.
Tears were hopeless and simply made her feel tired, but right then she really wanted to give in to a good bout of them.
“You’re a bloody bully to her is what you are!”
Abby knew that voice. Hurrying to the door, she unlocked it. Standing outside were Dimity and Gabe, the former with her hands on her hips. She had never been intimidated by the Deville brothers, and especially not this one, who was well above her on society’s ladder.
“How I care for my sister is no concern of yours.” He was pointing a finger at her rudely. Dimity didn’t back down. “And I have said you are forbidden to see her!”
“You and your brothers are blithering idiots,” Dimity said in disgust. “Your sister is a good girl. Stop smothering her!”
“Shut up! You’re a bloody piano teacher. You have no right to speak to me that way!”
“You,” Dimity pointed a finger right back at him, and Abby held her breath, “are no better than me just because you were born on soft sheets with a bloody golden goblet on your nightstand!”
“I’m an
