Rescued by the Duke by Catherine Mayfair

Author:Catherine Mayfair
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2019-09-20T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

A sound woke Abigail with a start. The last of the candlelight flickered beside the bed; she had blown out the others once Richard had stormed from the room. There was no sense in allowing them to burn down once he had gone.

As her mind raced and her heart thumped in her chest, she cursed herself for falling asleep. She had planned to remain awake until Richard returned, but she was unaccustomed to the amount of exercise she had done. Plus, the fact she and Richard had argued had left her more exhausted than the walking and climbing she had done earlier.

Another short rasp on the door had her sitting upright as lightening sent a glow in the room. Still in her dress from earlier, she went to the door and opened it, praying it was Richard, that he had come to his senses and returned so they could decide how to continue on in their marriage.

However, it was not Richard waiting when she opened the door but rather the young boy drenched to the bone.

“Oh, no,” she gasped, pulling him into the room. “You are soaked.”

“It’s raining.”

She chuckled at the obviousness of the statement. “And did you find him?”

The boy shook his head. “No, I’m sorry,” he said with a sad expression. “And I looked everywhere.”

Abigail pulled a chair close to the dying fire. “Come. Sit here.” She added several logs to the fire and stoked it until it was roaring brightly once again. “And there is no need to apologize for not finding him. He might not wish to be found.” She grabbed a towel from the wash basin, took off the boy’s dilapidated hat, and began to pat away the water. “Your mother will be angry to know I sent you out in such weather.”

The boy’s expression saddened even more. “My mum is dead.” He said the words in such a matter-of-fact way, Abigail was taken aback.

“Well, your father, then.”

The boy shook his head. “My father is gone, too.”

Abigail clicked her tongue. “Then, who cares for you? Who do you live with?”

He shrugged. “Just me,” he said, offering her a grin. “I look after myself.”

Hearing such words brought tears to her eyes, though she tried to hide them.

However, her attempt failed, and the boy stood up and took her hand in his. “No lady like you should cry,” he said. Before Abigail knew what had happened, she found herself in the chair and the boy consoling her! “Don’t ya worry none. I’m fine. I sent a search party to find your husband already.”

Abigail stared at the boy. “You did?” she asked, wiping a handkerchief across her eyes.

The boy nodded. “I did. I told the men that you’d pay them. I hope you’re not mad at me.”

Overcome by his innocence, Abigail pulled the boy into her arms and kissed the top of his head. “Never,” she replied. Then she looked down at him. “What is your name?”

“Patrick,” he said. “Patrick Winstop.”

“Well, Master Winstop, it is a pleasure to know your name.

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