The Spinster and the Duke Read Online Free PDF

leaned heavily against the door. Shock radiated through her, leaving her body humming as though she were a bow string that had just been plucked. “I never knew… That is to say, I never guessed…” A sudden thought occurred to her and she snapped upright. “Martha, is this why we have never been able to come to terms for all these years? Because you secretly harbored feelings for Reginald?”
    But it seemed Martha was done divulging secrets. Composing herself, she gestured towards the door. “I think it is best you leave now, Abigail. Thank you for taking the time to visit. I am afraid I will not be able to see you again before I leave for Hampshire, but perhaps we can arrange for tea when the Season begins.”
    “I really believe we should talk—”
    “Thank you,” she said, speaking through clenched teeth, “for visiting. Now I truly must bid you farewell.”
    Before Abigail quite knew what was happening she found herself all but thrown out onto the street.
    “Why I never,” she exclaimed as she turned in a quick circle. Martha had not even given her time to collect her gloves and she was forced to shove her hands beneath the voluminous folds of her shawl as the wind picked up, sending leaves and debris spinning through the air.
    The air had grown markedly colder while she was inside and the sky was heavy with rain. It began to fall before she made it halfway home, slapping at her face and chest in an icy spray that soaked through her shawl in a matter of moments.
    “Brilliant,” she muttered under her breath as a cold trickle of water slid beneath the high collar of her dress and raced down her back. “Absolutely bloody brilliant.”
    Two fancy phaetons raced past, their large wheels splashing through puddles and soaking Abigail’s skirts. She shook her fist at the reckless drivers, not that they paid her any mind, and shouted a curse a lady was not supposed to know, let alone say out loud.
    When she heard another carriage approaching she stepped to the side and waited for it to pass. When it did not – when the clip clop of hooves on cobblestone actually slowed – she peeked out from behind the lace trimmed edge of her bonnet and, squinting against the rain, gazed up at the impressively sized vehicle as it came to a halt directly beside her.
    It was a barouche carriage in gleaming black with the top drawn up, hiding the passenger from view. The driver, a tall, thin man who held the reins of the carriage’s two matching bay’s in a well practiced grip, nodded his head in greeting. Noting he was just as wet as she – if not more so – Abigail offered him a sympathetic smile before her gaze flicked curiously to the silent passenger.
    He was sitting back, revealing long legs clad in dark gray trousers. When he said nothing Abigail took a hesitant step closer, her brow furrowing in bewilderment. Besides her sister and Dianna she knew next to no one on this stretch of street, let alone someone who would approach her in the middle of a storm in such a fancy vehicle.
    “Hello?” she called up tentatively, raising her voice to be heard over the slap of the rain on the carriage’s thick leather roof. “Do I know you?”
    The man leaned forward. “Hello, Abby.”  
    Even if she had not recognized his face, she surely would have remembered his voice. How could it sound the same even after all these years? She stutter stepped back as her heart gave one hard thump inside her chest. “Rocky,” she whispered.
    She wanted to say something else. She needed to say something else. Anything, anything at all, but the words she had memorized long ago fell flat and faded into oblivion before they could push past her lips.
    Reginald extended his arm, a silent offer for her to join him in the carriage. She stared at his gloved fingers in wide-eyed amazement, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say. She had dreamed of this very moment for so many years and now that it was here she wished it fervently away to a