Page 87 of A Perfect Gentleman

“Of course it was important. A fall—she could have lost the baby.”

Laura’s eyes widened. “Oh. You mean she’s—”

“Yes.” He smiled faintly, feeling pleased, proud, and slightly embarrassed.

“I’m very happy for you. And Lady Montclair.” If there was a faint tremor in her voice, it was quickly suppressed. “But that makes me even more concerned. As I said, I put it down to an accident, but this morning, Mrs. Penwyler came to call, along with one of her friends, and one of them mentioned Lady Montclair. Cousin Elizabeth said something about Lady Montclair almost falling—I had told her, you see—and Mrs. Penwyler said Lady Montclair was always stirring things up. She said Montclair’s wife was always acting as if something had happened to her—falling in the river and getting trapped in a fire. She intimated that Lady Montclair had set the fire herself, just to attract attention.”

“What rubbish.”

“Well, you know Mrs. Penwyler; she’s a harpy. But the thing is, it didn’t sound at all like the woman I met.”

“No, of course not. Abby is more likely to pretend nothing happened than to dramatize a situation.”

“I also thought it was very peculiar that she had had several ‘accidents.’ I thought about that ‘accident’ on the stairs. And it seemed to me, looking back on it, well . . . that she had been pushed rather than that she had stumbled.”

“Pushed!” Graeme’s heart began to pound in his chest. “Are you sure?”

“No. That’s just it. I’m not. The whole thing happened very fast, and I was more intent on catching her arm than anything else. I didn’t actually see anyone push Lady Montclair. But I didn’t see her stumble, either. She lurched forward and to the side very suddenly. It didn’t appear that she had caught her toe in her skirts or anything like that. I think I was the one who then stepped on her ruffle and tore it as I jumped to catch her arm. She wasn’t hurrying. There were people in front of us, so she couldn’t have.” Laura stopped, uncertain. “Am I being foolish, Graeme?”

“No. Not at all. I am the one who’s been a fool.” He shoved a hand back through his hair. “God help me, I’ve been blind. I thought the danger long past. I thought she was safe with me. I was sure no one could have gotten into the house to set the fire.”

“Safe from what? What danger?”

“That’s just it. I’ve no idea. I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings I’ve ignored everything else.” He stood up. “I have to go. I’m sorry, but I—”

“There’s no need to apologize. Of course you must go to her.”

Graeme rushed out, in such a hurry that he did not realize until later that he had forgotten his hat. He hailed a hansom this time, unwilling to waste even the time of walking. As he rode, his mind raced, dread, frustration, and anger rising in him. When the carriage pulled up in front of his home, he fairly shot out of it, tossing money at the driver without even asking the amount.

Charging up the steps, he strode through the front door, nearly bowling over a footman. He went first to the less formal sitting room downstairs, but only his grandmother and her companion were there. “Good heavens, Montclair, what is the—”

But he was gone before Lady Eugenia could finish her sentence, pounding up the stairs and into Abby’s bedroom. Abby was staring out the window, and she jumped and whirled around at his abrupt entrance.

“Graeme! What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” he shot back, all the emotions that had been building in him rushing up in a surge of fury. “What the devil are you doing? Why didn’t you tell me you fell on the stairs? Did you think I didn’t deserve to have even that bit of knowledge about you?” She made no reply, only stared at him in astonishment. It served to fuel his anger. “Don’t you realize what could have happened?”

“Of course I realize it!” Abby snapped back, breaking out of her momentary paralysis. “It’s not as if I set out to stumble on the stairs! I didn’t hide it from you; I had other things on my mind at the time.”

“Yes, I know, you were too busy punishing me because you met Laura.”

“What?” Her voice rose, and she practically jumped forward. “How dare you accuse me of hurting you! I gave you what you’ve wanted all along—your freedom. Now you’re castigating me because I had an accident? Because I didn’t report to you? You don’t control me.”

“I understand that you don’t want me, but, damn it, I am still your husband. You had no right to hide it from me.”

“I didn’t hide it from you.” She held herself rigidly, fists knotted at her side. Her voice was tight, but level. “Clearly it would have done no good if I had. Obviously you have your own sources of information. I would ask who told you about the accident on the stairs, but we both know the answer to that.”

A prickle of unease ran through him.

“No, don’t bother to lie.” Abby’s voice was acidic. She dug into her pocket and threw a piece of paper at him. It fell to the floor at his feet. He didn’t need to pick it up to see that it was Laura’s note. “I know you’ve been with your . . . friend.” Abby’s mouth twisted bitterly.

“I wasn’t going to lie.” Graeme’s chest was so tight he felt as if he might choke. “And yes, she is my friend. Yours, too, more than you know.”

“Mine?” Her eyebrows lifted mockingly.

“Yes, yours. She asked me to call on her because she was worried about you.”

“What? Oh, yes, I am certain she was most concerned about me.”