My Brother's Bride by Rachael Anderson

Author:Rachael Anderson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2018-11-23T18:00:00+00:00

ABBY HAD NEVER felt more stifled. After the shuttlecock fiasco, Lady Brigston became her shadow. Not only did she plan every second of every hour of every day, but she was in the breakfast parlor when Abby first came down, and she didn’t leave the drawing room in the evenings until Abby or Brigston retired.

She was a taskmaster, of sorts, keeping Abby busy with various ladylike activities. They embroidered cushions, sketched, painted, gardened, and walked about the grounds. At first, Abby was pleased to see Lady Brigston in better spirits, but as the days passed and Abby’s interactions with Brigston dwindled to almost nothing, she decided she didn’t care much for the change.

She missed Brigston. Their brief exchanges in the breakfast parlor or dining room did not suffice. With his mother’s constant supervision, conversation was stilted at best. Abby ached for the easy camaraderie they’d once shared. She wanted to walk with him, play shuttlecock with him, read with him, and laugh with him. Lady Brigston was enjoyable enough to be around, but she wasn’t her son. Abby didn’t smile as much, and her heart never danced.

One particular morning, Abby sat near the drawing room window, her attention caught by Brigston, who was returning to the stables on the back of his horse. He rode with grace and looked dashing dressed in all black. If only she could have joined him on the ride that morning.

Lady Brigston bustled into the room, her black taffeta skirts swishing in a grating manor. Abby did her best to hide her frustration, but could she not enjoy the solace for at least a few minutes? She was tempted to complain of a headache and spend the day in her room, just to be free of the woman’s constant hovering. But Abby would never really do such a thing. Her mother-in-law was simply craving the distraction company brought. Abby had once felt the same.

“Only see what just arrived, Abby,” said Lady Brigston, clearly excited about something. She cradled a pile of lace, fabrics, and ribbons in her arms and held them up for Abby’s inspection. “I ordered these from London months ago, and they’ve finally come.”

Curiosity piqued, Abby perused the various folds of fabric, oohing and ahhing at the white embroidered muslin and pastel-colored cottons—there was a blue and white polka-dot, cream with little peach flowers, and a green fabric covered with small, black diamonds.

“What do you plan to do with these, my lady?” Abby asked.

Lady Brigston pointed to the pastels. “I thought we could make some small quilts from these. And this”—she lifted the white muslin and smiled—“is for the christening gown. Isn’t it lovely?”

Abby’s fingers stilled on the muslin. For the christening gown.

The words echoed in her mind while her stomach twisted into knots. Abby stared at the closest relation she had to a mother, praying she’d purchased the fabric for someone else.

“A christening gown for whom?” she asked quietly.

Lady Brigston chuckled. “Silly girl. My grandchild, of course.”

But it’s not really your grandchild, Abby thought as the cold reality washed over her.

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