Page 102 of A Perfect Gentleman

“That silly creature! Why would she try to stop me? Graeme will be free!”

“Perhaps because she’s a decent human being who doesn’t want to see anyone murdered?” Abby took a quick step backward as the branch whipped across in front of her. As it came back, she blocked it with her own “weapon.”

“She doesn’t know! She doesn’t understand! They think you’re nice.” Mrs. Ponsonby made a scornful sound. “As if that mattered. You have no name, no lineage. You don’t deserve to be married to a Parr. I stopped when I found out you were carrying his baby.”

She continued to swing her weapon in a dangerous arc, driving Abby toward the bridge . . . and the water. Abby didn’t dare take her eyes from the branch, but she feared that she would eventually step backward, all unknowing, into the stream.

“Of course you did,” Abby agreed. “That’s why you must stop now. You don’t want to hurt Graeme’s baby. You can’t kill his heir, the future Lord Montclair.”

“No, no, I realized!” Mrs. Ponsonby’s voice rose in excitement. “Your blood will taint them. You’re nothing but a mongrel American. God only knows where your family came from.”

“But it’s just a baby! You cannot wish to kill a child.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if Graeme hadn’t kept after it! I thought it was over when he sent you away. But now he’s here and as besotted with you as ever. He’s gone to see the vicar.”

“What does that matter? What does the vicar know?”

“I don’t know! Nothing. Everything. Eventually Graeme will find out the truth. And I won’t let you ruin his name.”

“Whose name? Graeme’s? How—”

“No!” Enraged, Mrs. Ponsonby slammed the end of the branch against the ground. Abby was pleased to see that the blow snapped off the end. “George! My George—you ruined him, you and your father.”

“George? Your husband? He was the one who embezzled the funds?” Abby was so startled she dropped her guard. But fortunately Mrs. Ponsonby was too much in the grip of her obsession to take advantage.

“He would have put it back!” she shrieked. “He would never have taken the money if Thurston hadn’t dazzled them with all his talk. George thought he would double his money. Triple it. No one would have noticed it had been missing a fortnight or two. It was your fault!” She swung wildly at Abby.

Abby knocked it away, taking another step back. “Me? I had nothing to do with it.”

“Yes, you! You were the reason for all of it, so Graeme would have to take you. George lost everything—not only the money, but his good name. And Reggie! They were like brothers and then Montclair looked at him as if he were a worm, just because of that one little mistake. He—he abjured him! George, who had been his best friend his whole life, who’d always done whatever Reggie wanted. George couldn’t bear to live anymore. All because of you!”

Eyes lit with fury, the other woman threw herself at Abby, swinging with all her might. Abby jerked to the side, blocking with the parasol, which finally snapped and went spinning away. Mrs. Ponsonby roared with triumph and raised the branch again.

chapter 34

Abby threw up her hands and caught the branch as it came down. The rough bark scraped her palms; the shock of it shot up her arms. But she held Mrs. Ponsonby off. The two women grappled over the stick, not even registering the shouts or the sound of running footsteps.

Suddenly Graeme loomed up behind Mrs. Ponsonby and, clasping his hands together, brought them down hard on the back of her head. The woman crumpled. Abby staggered at the sudden release of pressure on the stick, but Graeme lashed out with one hand and grabbed her arm, keeping her upright.

Abby flung herself into his arms. He squeezed her to him so tightly it took the breath from her; then he took her by the shoulders and set her back, anxiously examining her face and form.

“Are you all right? Did she hurt you?” Before Abby could answer, he wrapped his arms around her again. Cradling her to him, he kissed her hair and face, saying in broken spurts, “I was so worried. And then, when I found Mother and Grandmother . . . I knew she had gone after you. Are you all right? Truly?”

“Yes. Yes.” Abby nodded, faintly surprised to find that tears were running down her cheeks. “Oh, Graeme! I was scared she was going to hurt the baby. But she didn’t,” she added hastily when his arms tightened around her. “Wait. Laura! She hurt Laura.”

“Laura! You’re right. I forgot.” They turned. Laura lay motionless a few feet away. “I saw her, but I couldn’t stop.”

They hurried over and knelt beside the blond woman.

“Look at all this blood,” Abby gasped. “Is she—”

“No. I saw her fingers twitch. Head wounds bleed a great deal. Do you have a handkerchief?”

“No, it’s in my reticule back inside. But no doubt Laura does.” She found the pocket of the other woman’s skirts and triumphantly pulled out a tidy white square.

Graeme chuckled. “Of course she would.” He pressed the square against the cut, and Laura let out a groan. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Graeme?” Her face cleared. “Graeme! Abigail—Mrs.—” She struggled to sit up.