Miss Watson's First Scandal (Miss Mayhem 1)

“Watson, before you go I have to ask; may I call upon your sister today?”

Watson nodded. “Yes. Yes. Forgive me. I never should have behaved so boorishly.” He hurried out and when he was gone David leaned back in his chair, quite certain Peter Watson had no inkling of the type of call David wanted to make. However, he was too wise to set Watson straight.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I cannot believe you would do this,” Abigail argued. “You don’t even care for him. You said you would only marry if there was love involved.”

A sad smile crossed Imogen’s face and deepened Abigail’s distress. “I know. But a woman has the right to change her mind. Your brother is a decent sort and I can help. Would you really rather have Miss Radley and her scowls than me for a sister?”

“No. Of course not. I only want what’s best for you.”

Imogen patted her hand. “This will be. I’m sure your brother and I will rub along well. After all, he’ll have what he wants and likely go his own way. Marriage will give me quite a bit of freedom. We’ll not need to wait and arrange a suitable chaperone to accompany us when we go out anymore. It will be my pleasure to take you anywhere you want to go.”

Abigail nibbled on a fingertip. A week ago the idea would have appealed to her. But not like this.

“We could go to London on occasion,” Imogen offered. “You enjoyed your time there.”

“I did but, I doubt your time will be entirely your own.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Imogen stood and moved to the window.

“Well, you will be Peter’s wife and he will wish to spend time with you. He may not like you leaving Brighton without him.” Abigail stared at Imogen’s back, saw her shoulders rise at the idea of being followed around by her brother. If Abigail were to marry David, she’d be ecstatic to spend her days in his company. Not to mention the nights. It did not seem likely Imogen experienced the same sense of anticipation about becoming Peter’s constant companion.

“Your brother was in my company this morning when I saw Mr. Hawke. I believe the air has been cleared between them although they may never return to their former footing.”

A blush burned Abigail’s skin. “He leaves soon.” Her voice sounded so small and pathetic to even her own ears that she buried her face in her hands to hide her distress. The deadline for David’s departure was approaching too rapidly for her comfort.

Imogen faced her and smoothed her hair back from her face gently. “What am I going to do with you? Do you really want him?”

Abigail slowly nodded. She’d thought of him every other moment. She wanted to know what he did with his day, all alone in his empty house. She didn’t like him being on his own. He should have someone with him to make him laugh.

“Your brother promised me he would end his foolish plan to banish Hawke from visiting. Absurd idea. I imagine if Hawke’s heart is engaged and he’s the good man you claim, following that discussion he might request to call on you.”

Abigail surged to her feet, anxious she might have missed him. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Imogen chuckled. “Well, you’ve been berating me so well for settling on a marriage of convenience I thought you’d best get it out of your system as soon as possible.” Imogen kissed her cheek. “Go on. Off with you. You’ll never be satisfied until you see Hawke again.”

Abigail

hugged her friend tightly to her. “Thank you.” She fled for home, snatching up her bonnet and gloves from the startled housekeeper’s hands. She burst onto the street, turned for her house and barreled into a broad chest.

“Miss Watson,” David murmured as he steadied her. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Abigail stared up into David’s face and couldn’t contain her smile. “Good morning.”

He winked. “I had just called on you, but was told you were out visiting your friend. May I walk you home?”

When he held out his arm, Abigail blushed as she took it. “Thank you.”

They strolled the very short distance to her house and when she entered, David followed her inside and handed his hat and gloves to her butler. “I trust everything is in order.”

Abigail stepped into the parlor, conscious that the man who’d introduced her to the delights of the bedroom lingered a painfully short distance away and she couldn’t touch him yet. She glanced around him and caught her butler’s eye. “Simpson, might we have tea sent up and make sure to include the seed cake that was made this morning.”

“My favorite,” David murmured when Simpson had gone, leaving the door ajar.

Abigail grinned and sat down on the settee. David sat at her side, turned slightly so he faced her. He held her gaze a long moment and then he swooped in to kiss her lips. When he lifted his head, Abigail’s senses were spinning wildly.

“I missed you,” he whispered.