Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
O nce in the library, neither of them spoke. Abbey sensed it wasn’t out of awkwardness, but more like speaking too soon might shatter the truth blooming between them.
Ewart really did have feelings for her. Strong ones, if her guess was right. His kiss had certainly conveyed a few things.
He led her to one of the wingback chairs and had her sit. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, voice gentle.
She nodded, hugging herself. The room was dim but warm, and noise from the ball outside was more muffled here. Still, she’d rather not listen to what was going on outside.
Ewart must have been thinking the same thing. He crossed the room and shut the door, then turned to her. “I thought you might need a moment to breathe,” he told her softly.
Abbey nodded and rubbed her hands over her arms.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“Shocked is a better word. I can’t seem to stop shaking.”
He went to the chair, pulled her gently to her feet, and wrapped her in his arms. He didn’t press her for anything. Instead, he waited until she was ready to either step out of his embrace or talk.
Abbey wasn’t ready to do either. She was enjoying the feel of his arms around her far too much.
“Abbey.”
“Yes?”
He held her tighter. “I want to kiss you again.”
She sucked in a breath and looked up at him. “I never thought I’d be the kind of woman who got kissed at a ball.”
“You deserved that kiss. And far more,” he said.
She laughed, breath catching. “Ye have no idea how hard I’ve tried to talk myself out of having feelings for ye.”
He didn’t say a word and smiled instead.
“Well, fine,” she went on, her nerves gathering speed. “I told myself ye were above me, that what I felt was foolish. Dangerous, even. I didn’t fancy losing my job. So I thought if I just kept busy and quiet, I’d be able to forget what it felt like to…” She swallowed hard. “Oh, blast it. Yer nay easy to forget, Ewart Bailey.”
His smile broadened.
“I told myself I’d rather be yer friend than nothing at all. But after tonight…” Her voice trembled. “I don’t think I can pretend anymore.”
Ewart looked into her eyes and ran a hand up and down her back. It was warm and comforting, and she didn’t want him to stop. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Abbey,” he said gently.
“Well then…ye might as well know…I’m still scared.”
“So am I,” he whispered, “but not of loving you.”
She blinked back tears as he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss was reverent, and her eyes shut of their own accord. When she opened them, tears clung to her lashes. “Oh, blast it all… I think I’m falling in love with ye.”
Ewart grinned. “Then we’re perfectly matched. Mrs. Pettigrew would be proud.” And with that, he kissed her again.
When he finally pulled away, Abbey rested her head against his chest, and his arms tightened around her like a shield. She listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. And for the first time in days, her own breathing came easier.
“I never expected this,” she murmured against his coat. “Any of it.”
Ewart chuckled, the sound low and content. “Neither did I. But now that it’s happened, I can’t imagine letting it go. Can you?”
She looked up at him, one hand still pressed to the lapel of his coat. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said, brushing a curl from her cheek, “that I want to build something with you. Something lasting. It doesn’t matter if it involves titles or expectations. And I don’t want to hear any argument from you.”
Her eyes widened. “What?” Abbey laughed, even as her heart thudded in her chest. Before she could tease him, a sharp knock sounded at the door. They froze.
The door opened, and in swept Mrs. Pettigrew, followed by Mrs. Fraser and Mr. Tugs. All three were chattering over each other until they spotted Ewart and Abbey. They stopped up short. Mrs. Pettigrew smiled brightly. “Well?”
Mrs. Fraser arched an eyebrow and stage-whispered, “Mr. Tugs, you owe me a tart.”
The butler peered at them with a twinkle in his eye. “I do not. I said they’d sneak off. I mentioned nothing about the two of them sparking in the library.”
Abbey bolted out of Ewart’s arms, her face scarlet. “Mrs. Pettigrew, I didn’t mean…”
“You’ve done nothing wrong, ma petite ,” Mrs. Pettigrew said warmly. “Though you might have warned me before running off with the most eligible bachelor at the ball.”
“Technically,” Mrs. Fraser said, “I think he made off with her.”
“Quite right,” Mr. Tugs added. “And I, for one, am glad for it.”
Abbey buried her face in her hands. “Good grief.”
Ewart cleared his throat. “If I may, since you’re all here, and before anyone else crashes through the door…”
Mrs. Pettigrew laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “By all means, Mr. Bailey. Continue.”
Ewart turned to Abbey, gently pulling her hands from her face. “You said you never expected this, but I did. I think I hoped for it the moment I first saw you. And I know it’s fast, and perhaps even a bit scandalous, but I’m not a man who sees a good thing and walks away from it.”
Abbey stared at him, forgetting how to breathe.
He reached for her hands and dropped to one knee. Mrs. Pettigrew gasped in delight. “Abigail O’Connell,” he said, “I have nothing to offer except myself. What comes with me is an uncertainty of how we’ll live, where we’ll live, or what we’ll do. But I promise you a roof over your head, food on the table, and a heart that will love you for the rest of your life. Will you marry me?”
There was a beat of silence. Mrs. Fraser smacked Mr. Tugs on the arm. “I told you it was a love match.”
Mr. Tugs sniffed and smacked her back. “No, Mrs. Pettigrew said it was a love match. And she said it would be settled before Easter.” He turned to the couple. “Well, Abigail, don’t leave the lad kneeling till his joints lock. Answer him.”
Abbey laughed and dropped to her knees right in front of Ewart. She threw her arms around his neck. “Yes. Yes! I’ll marry you!”
The trio applauded, and Abbey buried her face in Ewart’s shoulder. She laughed then, a sound bright and wild to her own ears.
Ewart kissed her temple. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a match.”
“Yes, my dears,” Mrs. Pettigrew beamed. “An Easter match…just as I knew it would be.”
Easter Sunday…
The church bells rang loud and clear as the final hymn faded and the congregation got to its feet.
Abbey sat still. Her gloved hands were folded neatly in her lap, her heart pounding twice as fast as the bell. So much had happened in so little time.
She’d come to Denver as a maid, was hired on by Mrs. Pettigrew, and though her eccentric employer was a little hard to get used to, she’d settled in quick enough. She planned to be quiet. Ordinary. She was intent on blending in. Her goal had been to stay useful and ask little of the world. But somehow, between folding linens and fetching tea trays, she’d stumbled into something extraordinary.
Love.
She still wasn’t sure how it happened. Perhaps it bloomed in Ewart’s quiet glances and the little kindnesses he gave her day by day. Maybe it had always been there, tucked in some corner of her heart, waiting for someone like him to coax it out. He saw her clearly, after all. And he accepted her. All of her.
Her gaze flicked across the church. Rows of flowers lined the windowsills and aisles, making the sanctuary sweet and fragrant. Across the aisle, Mrs. Pettigrew beamed at her. She had four weddings to plan now, and insisted Abbey’s would take precedence.
Abbey smiled at the thought, though a shadow lingered behind her joy: the Harringtons.
The morning after the ball, Mrs. Pettigrew had invited Rebecca and Mrs. Harrington to tea. They’d sipped their tea politely in her drawing room as if nothing had happened. That is until Mrs. Pettigrew let them have it in withering tones that Abbey was still entirely in awe of.
The Harringtons hadn’t been seen in polite society since. Abbey wondered if they wouldn’t go abroad again for a long, long time.
What sort of scheme Rebecca might be plotting now? Abbey didn’t know. And truthfully, she didn’t care. They’d tried to come between her and Ewart and failed. Bless her future husband, he’d stood firm, and the truth prevailed.
Abbey glanced down at her Sunday clothes. Her dress was a rich cream color with delicate embroidery. Her gloves matched, as did the bonnet she wore. Mrs. Pettigrew insisted she dress for the Easter parade. In fact, all the staff did. But she’d made sure Abbey looked resplendent. After all, she was newly engaged.
Engaged. Abbey’s heart did a little leap at the word. She looked at her gloved hand. Ewart hadn’t had time to get her a ring yet. He’d only proposed a week ago, but tomorrow they were going to the jeweler’s. He wanted her to choose her diamond herself.
“Come now, girl,” Mrs. Fraser said as she stood at the end of the pew. “Time to show Denver what a good match looks like.”
“Couldn’t have happened to better people,” Mr. Tugs added with a wink. He offered his arm to Mrs. Fraser, and together, they headed toward the church doors.
“Well?” Ewart asked at Abbey’s side. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, Mr. Bailey.” She smiled and got to her feet. They left the pew and walked down the aisle. Abbey paused for a moment, taking it all in. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Didn’t you come here last Easter? Or the one before that?” Ewart asked.
“I did. But this year is different.” She looked at him and took his hand. “This year, I have you at my side.”
He gave her hand a squeeze and smiled. They stepped outside. The sun was shining, and the Easter parade stretched down the street in a river of bonnets, dresses, and polished boots. Everyone was in their finest, and some of the flowers from the church had been brought out to decorate the front of the building.
Children dashed about with baskets. The scent of spring flowers mingled with…“Cinnamon rolls?” Ewart asked, sniffing.
Sure enough, Mrs. Fraser stood nearby with a basket. “Well?” she asked. “Do you two want your cinnamon rolls now or later?”
“Later,” Abbey said quickly. “I don’t want to get anything on my gloves.”
“Suit yourself,” Mrs. Fraser replied, reaching into the basket for one.
Ewart looked at Abbey like she was the only person in the world. “Mrs. Fraser says I’m not allowed to speak to any other woman for at least a week.”
Abbey gave him a sly look. “Do you plan to obey her?”
“Of course.”
She laughed and took his arm. They strolled down the street, nodding at well-wishers that attended the ball. Mr. Prosser waved, along with several other servants from neighboring households. The news of their engagement had spread like wildfire through the neighborhood, along with Rebecca and her mother’s antics. Was it any wonder the Harringtons disappeared.
“You’re going to be a proper lady now, Abbey!” someone called.
“She always was,” Ewart called back.
Abbey flushed with happiness. She felt like she was floating.
“I’ve made a decision,” Ewart said, his voice lowered to nearly a whisper.
“Oh?”
“After the wedding, I’d like us to go to England.”
Abbey sucked in a breath, surprised.
“I think my parents deserve the chance to meet their daughter-in-law,” he said. “And perhaps… to be proved wrong about a few things.” He looked down at her, eyes crinkling with affection. “Especially since you’re going to be my wife.”
She smiled, tears springing to her eyes again. “Then I suppose we’d better get packing.”
He grinned and kissed the top of her head.
“I think we have a little time to wait, sweetheart. We’re not getting married until the end of June. There’s still a wedding to plan.”
She stopped and looked at him. “So, Ewart Bailey, does this mean yer finally going to write a romance novel?”
“Oh,” he said thoughtfully, “I suppose I could. Now that I have firsthand research material.”
He grinned. “Let’s see…a young woman under the employ of an eccentric matchmaker. An up-and-coming writer that gets hired as the matchmaker’s assistant. Little do they know they’re the ones about to be matched. How does that sound?”
She grinned at him. “I think it might be a bestseller.”
He laughed and kissed her hair again. “Well then,” he said. “We’d better start researching, hadn’t we?”
“And how do ye propose to do that?” she asked.
He smiled down at her. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart. I have a list of all sorts of things we’ll need to investigate for this book.”
She laughed, took his arm, and leaned in. “Then we’d best get started, hadn’t we?”