Baron of Blasphemy (Lords of Scandal 12)

“Papa,” Abigail said again as though she wasn’t able to say anything else. She stepped closer to Chad, her hand touching his back. She needed to touch his solid form because the entire world had shifted. “This is the Baron of Blackwater, my husband.”

“Your husband?” Her father’s rough voice grated. “But he stole you out of a ball, visibly carrying you, loaded you into a hack, and hurried straight out of London without any luggage or…”

“It was you,” Chad interrupted. “That I saw outside the palace.”

“It was,” her father answered, crossing his arms. “Why did you leave London in such a rush?”

“Dishonor…your partner.” Abigail moved closer to Chad and he straightened, wrapping an arm about her. She should run to her father and hug him, but something held her back. She’d missed her father, of course. But also…

Her mind was struggling to make sense of all this, and as Chad pulled her closer, she settled against him, drawing from his strength. “He flushed out the London thieves. One of them tried to kidnap Emily.”

Chad squeezed her closer even as her father let out a rush of air. “Where is Emily now?” he asked.

“On a ship somewhere with Dishonor. And Eliza left with her husband, The Marquess of Milton, and Isabella with hers…the Duke of Devonhall.”

Her father scrubbed his face. “You’re all married. All of you?”

Abigail swallowed. “I don’t know about Emily. There were plans, of course.”

Her father ran his hand down his face. “I’m sorry that I left you. I hope you understand I was trying to protect you.”

And then she understood why she hadn’t run to her father. Her hands tightened around Chad. “I hope you understand how much Eliza and Isabella sacrificed because of your choice.” Her hands clenched into Chad’s side.

All this time, he’d acted in his own best interest. And as his favorite, she’d been molded into his likeness. Demanding without giving. Until now. She’d be like Eliza or Isabella. She’d give to her family, not just take from it.

Her father lifted his hands. “Abby. I had to protect the business. Our legacy.”

“We are your legacy,” she cried out. “And Isabella and Eliza were both nearly ruined for it.”

His face paled. “I came as soon as I could.”

Chad’s hand massaged her back, as he silently watched. Her voice trembled, but she pushed out the words. “Go back to saving your business. We’ve saved ourselves. I’ll tell my sisters that you’re alive and allow each of them to decide if they want to see you again. But you’ll not visit them until I’ve told them.” This was her moment. Her time to protect them.

His eyes crinkled. “Abby. How could you hold them and yourself away from me? I—”

“You left us to fend for ourselves. We did. Congratulate yourself. We’ve all learned that the people in this world we can count on are each other.” Then she looked at Chad. “And our husbands.”

* * *

Chad felt her trembling next to him. Being hurt by those that, by all accounts, should be giving love was something he understood deeply. He wished he’d actually punched the man before he’d learned who he was.

He knew that Abigail and her sisters were capable of fierce love. The sort that would lift up those around them.

But her father had tossed that away.

“Abby,” her father pleaded. “I didn’t abandon you. I was protecting you. These men were capable of hurting you.”

Chad felt Abigail stiffen. “I’m aware they are capable of great harm. We faced that alone.”

“When I left your mother…”

“Our mother—your wife—died. I know you knew. We sent you missive after missive.” Her voice grew louder with every word.

He winced. “I had to free our family from their clutches.”

Abigail shook her head. “We’re getting nowhere.” He squeezed her tighter. “When I return to London, I will tell them all that you’ve said.”

He grimaced. “There is so much more I need to say.”