What the heart wants
The day was almost perfect as Abigail wandered out through the busy market stalls, greeting those as she went. Samuel was trying to eagerly sell her another cod, holding it up proudly as she walked by. She reminded him that she and Jamie had only just polished off the one from the night before, but did commend him on another spectacular catch.
Esther's stall was (as usual) covered in brightly dyed fabrics and garments that made Abigail want to stop and buy everything to decorate her house. And (as usual) she managed to restrain herself and walked on by, already pleased with today's purchases. She'd gotten all the food she needed and finding that she had extra, decided to treat Jamie with a small surprise. As she browsed the last few stalls, thinking carefully, she wondered what she could possibly give him today to top the Sugar Plums she'd surprised him with the other day.
Lemon Peels? She could make him better ones than they sold at the market. Rose and Violet Petals? Too sweet. Licorice root? She'd end up eating the majority of it.
As she deliberated on what to get him, a loud voice suddenly caught her attention, followed by the screams of a small child.
"ANGELIQUE! YOU DAMNED CHILD!"
No one else seemed to notice or really care, but Abigail looked around her and hurried out of the bustling market, heading towards the shouts and cries. Whatever was happening, it wasn't good.
As she came between two houses and into an empty lane, she saw something that made her blood boil. A man she had never seen before had a child in one hand and was hitting her repeatedly with something. The child cried out at every strike and desperately tried to wriggle free from his grip.
It was only when Abigail dropped her basket in shock did she see that he was using a thick leather belt to strike the child.
Without another thought, she ran at them and screamed as loud as she could.
"STOP. STOP IT! LEAVE HER!"
The man seemed to pay no mind to her protests and carried on hitting the child, though the small creature looked up at Abigail and reached out towards her.
"STOP IT!"
Abigail wasn't about to let her down.
Not caring for her own safety, she quickly got in between the two and wrenched the man's grasp off of the child. She shoved him away and quickly turned back to the girl.
"Go, quickly," she gently pushed her along and turned back to the man as he stumbled back up from where he had fallen.
"Out of my way-"
"Don't you DARE think of raising that thing to me!" Abigail held her arms out either side and began to walk around with him, blocking him off from escaping and going after the girl, "I will get the authorities on you if you so much as leave a dirty mark on me!"
The man stopped in his tracks and lowered the hand his belt was in. Abigail noticed his slightly drunken state, though she had a feeling that wasn't necessarily all to blame for what he had been doing.
He sneered at Abigail and took a step towards her, trying to appear threatening and dominating, but Abigail merely jutted her chin out at him and stood her ground.
"How dare you intervene between a man and his property!" He spat out at her and Abigail wanted to reach up and wipe her face, but her anger wasn't letting her head clear long enough to do sensible thing.
"It's my place to intervene when I see a man hitting a child with a belt as if she were no more than an animal!"
"She didn't complete her duties. And now, thanks to you, she's run off," he took another step towards her and she could smell the whiskey on his breath, "I should be the one to call the authorities on you. But I've wasted enough time."
He turned away from her and began to swagger off, but not before turning and yelling one last time, "ANGELIQUE, IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU, YOU'LL BE HOME WITHIN THE HOUR!"
Abigail watched him leave and it was only when he was out of sight and hearing did she finally allow her real emotions to break through her surprisingly calm composure. She took deep, shuddering breaths and the adrenaline pumping through her body now seemed to be very evident. Despite the tough exterior, she had felt terrified at the confrontation, not knowing what he had been capable of. But at least the girl had ran as Abigail had instructed her to.
Turning back to her basket and looking about her, she found she was very much alone. She was thankful she'd had the bundles of perishables wrapped up and put everything back as carefully as she could. She was thinking of walking home when it dawned on her that the girl would not have had time to go far. She was still in earshot, that's why the man had yelled.
As she walked past the houses, she turned into another hidden walkway, much smaller than the other. It led to a small warehouse that was littered with old and new barrels.
Abigail remembered fondly playing hide and seek with her brother. She remembered the shipyards and old warehouses they would explore and how when it was her turn to hide, she'd find the smallest places she could fit in. Most of the times, it was a barrel.
She stopped and looked around herself. Whilst there was only about fifteen, she didn't really have the time to search each one. So she had a better idea.
"Hello? It's all right, he's gone now. You can come out."
"She heard a small shuffling sound to her right and saw one of the barrels lids was not QUITE sealed.
She went over to it, placed her basket down and slowly took off the lid. When she peered inside, a pair of brown, scared eyes peered back at her.
"It's all right, I promise he's not here," she carefully placed the lid on the ground beside it and put one hand in towards the girl, "And I won't let him hurt you. All right?"
It was a few seconds of staring as warmly as she could at the girl and hoping she hadn't been so badly scared from human contact from what he had done to her. Luckily, her small hand raised shakily and slowly slipped into Abigail's. She nodded shyly, letting her know she was ok.
"Right then," Abigail gently squeezed the hand in her own, "let's get you out of that barrel and somewhere safe, savvy?"
A short while later...
Jamie wasn't expecting anything strange when he came inside that day. He'd been working fruitlessly down the road where Farmer Goddet lived and he felt that it was his duty to work for his keep. He'd bartered for firewood and more painting supplies for his home and rather than spend his money, took on the odd jobs that the old farmer could no longer do.
So after a hard but fulfilling day of work, when he walked into his home, he'd expected Abigail to be there, preparing supper or cleaning away or just ready to greet him.
What he HADN'T been expected was to find a small child, whom he'd never seen before, dressed in ratty, dirty clothes and sitting at his kitchen table, eating a hearty meal.
When he walked in through the door, the child looked warily at him and held tightly onto what was left on her plate, as if he'd come in and take it away from her. Jamie did want to know what she was doing there, but he didn't like the look of fear she was giving him, so he decided that confused friendliness was definitely the way to go.
"Hello...Urm...I'm Jamie," he bowed his head slightly and received a small nod in return, "are-are you...a friend of Abigail's?"
The girl nodded again and Jamie had a feeling he wasn't going to find much conversation with his current companion. He quickly called around him for his wife, smiling nervously as the small child just watched him.
On cue, Abigail came in through the back door, her arms full of the clean and dry clothes she must have brought in off the line. She looked down at the little girl and gave her a small smile, before catching sight of her husband.
"Hello darling," she dumped the clothes on the countertop and walked straight over to give Jamie a warm and loving kiss, "I see you've met Angelique."
Jamie looked back over at the little girl, who still seemed very unnerved by his presence there. He nodded his head politely and smiled.
"Yes...Hello, Ms. Angelique."
"Angelique, this is my husband, Jamie," Abigail waved a hand between the two and spoke in gentle tones, "would it be all right if you say hello to him? He has had a very hard day and I think he'd appreciate it."
Angelique, still nervous and quiet as a mouse, looked directly at Jamie and said, 'Hello', before she continued to gobble up her food.
Jamie turned to his wife and she shrugged her shoulders.
"She doesn't talk much," she lowered her voice and lent in close to her husband, "and she's starving, so I made her a giant sausage roll...might have to make some more."
"Darling," Jamie spoke in the same quiet tones and made sure to at least appear happy encase the child suddenly turned to them, "not that I'm complaining, but...there's a small child in our kitchen. And...well, I've never seen her before. Who is she?"
Abigail turned surprised eyes to Jamie.
"Right...you know, it would help if I didn't automatically assume I'd already introduced you two," Abigail gave him an apologetic look before continuing, "come over here, by the door and we'll talk."
Jamie stood, obedient and quiet when Abigail told him the story. As expected, he grew angry not only at the treatment the child had suffered from, but also slightly at his wife for standing in the way of a threatening man with a belt. He was also furious at the man as well.
"Whilst I do commend your bravery-"
"Don't. Say it," Abigail gave him a stern look but softened and nodded her head towards Angelique, "you would have done the same thing and I would have done it had it been four or five men. And I would have used the basket as a weapon."
"Yes, that's what worries me sometimes," Jamie sighed but decided to let THAT thought go, "but I'm glad you're ok. Now...why exactly is she here?"
Abigail shook her head sadly at him and lowered her voice more.
"She has no one. No where to go. When I asked about her home and her parents...where that man lived was her home. Her mother and father are dead and I-I didn't really think of any other safe place. I just thought she could stay here."
"For...how long?"
Abigail shrugged, a little guiltily when she realised she hadn't really discussed it with her husband.
"Until I can get something sorted out for her...I don't know. Can we talk about it later?" She looked at him apologetically, hoping he wasn't too mad. On the contrary, Jamie pressed a kiss against the side of her head and whispered, "she can stay as long as you want her to and as long as she cares to. Well done."
"For?" She turned to him and arched her brow.
"For always doing what's right."
"Excuse me, Mrs. Norrington?"
They both turned their attention to Angelique, who was standing up and holding her now empty plate in front of her.
"I've finished my food. Where do you want me to wash this?"
Abigail stepped forward and smiled down at Angelique.
"Well, you are my guest so you don't have to wash it, pass it here," she took the plate from her and asked, "Do you want anymore? Or do you want to wait until supper?"
"Supper, please."
"All right, I'll just wash this up and then, if you still want to, we can read that book I was telling you about?"
The girl nodded and followed Abigail around, shadowing her every move and still helping her as she bustled about the kitchen.
Jamie watched for a bit, amused at seeing such a small child mimic and stand by his wife when they'd only just met. But then, she'd always had a way to make friends quickly.
Seeing as he was not needed, he thought it best to look busy and knelt down in the living room, preparing for the fire they would have that night since a guest was over.
After cleaning up and waiting for the broth to cook for supper, Abigail led the girl over to the large bookcase and quickly skimmed over their collection of books. After Jamie had agreed to the bookcase, their had been no stopping her and she bought home every cheap book she could get her hands on, from old to new. She had read to him some of her favourites and they'd collected almost the complete works of Shakespeare, Milton and fairytale collection books that had impressed even him.
She slipped one of the titles from it's place and held it out to Angelique.
"This was my favourite when I was your age, I think you'll love it!"
The girl tentatively took hold of one end of the book, scanned the cover and held it back up to Abigail.
"Do you not want to read it?"
Angelique looked worried for a moment, before looking back down at the book.
"I can't read it."
Abigail could have kicked herself. She'd never actually asked if Angelique could read, she just assumed
"Well, would you like a hand? I can read it and then we can have a go, together?"
She nodded and Abigail pulled her over to the armchair. Intending to seat Angelique down on the arm, she was pleasantly surprised when the girl instantly crawled into her lap and held the book out for Abigail.
"You know, I meant to say," Abigail looked the little girl in the eye and nodded sincerely, "Angelique, is a very pretty name."
Angelique frowned and looked away.
"What's wrong?"
"That's the name he gave me. He said it was better for me than mine."
Abigail felt a little bit of anger rise in her anger. The girl's very identity had been taken from her by that man.
"All right...so what is your name?"
The little girl on her lap hesitated before she quietly said, "My mother called Mafi. She told me it meant 'forgive'."
Abigail reached up and carefully stroked back the long, black hair that had escaped from the girl's ponytail.
"Mafi. You know, I like it. Much better."
Mafi gave her the first real, genuine smile since they'd met and Abigail returned the gesture before she looked down at the book and began to read.
"Once upon a time, there lived a Princess..."
A few hours later...
Jamie knew he shouldn't have volunteered himself for the chair, but alas, he was a gentleman and of course, that made it impossible for him not to.
After reading, supper and even helping 'Mafi' bathe, Abigail had called for bed and whilst they could have all slept together, Jamie felt that would have probably proven a bit too much for the girl after such an ordeal.
SO, when he found himself alone, he was at least thankful for the warm fire and his thick coat to keep him company. He already missed his bed, but if it meant the little girl would feel happy and safe as she slept, then he'd swap his bed for months. She was shy, but she had managed a little conversation and she told them snippets of what she had experienced and what she loved. She'd told them of getting beaten before and how she loved the blue butterflies she saw in the garden. She told of how he'd lock her away when she made him mad, but she'd found all these wonderfully patterned spiders and bugs to look at.
'Mr Barner' was not a man Jamie liked the sound of. At all.
He was pulled from his thoughts on what he would like to do to this man by his wife, coming down the stairs slowly and smiling at him as she did so.
"Are you not able to sleep?" Abigail gave him an apologetic look and gestured upstairs, "you can swap with me for a couple of hours and rest? Mafi is fast asleep and didn't stir as I left."
He shook his head and smiled at his thoughtful wife.
"You go back upstairs, I'll be fine," he lied through his teeth, but snuggled deeper into the chair, making a show of how 'comfy' it was, "plus she'll not want to wake up with me, you prefers your face."
Instead of turning back around and walking up the stairs again, Abigail continued down until she reached the bottom. She walked over to him and leant over, her face level with his and her hand coming up to stroke his cheek.
"Thank you for this. I shouldn't have sprung it on you-"
"Stop apologising. You did the right thing," his hand came out of his jacket to gently take her wrist so he could place a quick kiss against her palm, "you always do."
Abigail, feeling bold and wide awake, gently sat down on his lap and held him close. He pulled her into him, snuggling and rubbing his beard against her neck as he rested there. He could sleep like this.
"I'm going to go tomorrow and see if I can talk to that man," she let out a frustrated sigh, "I don't see it going easy, but I'm prepared to offer him whatever money he wants."
"Are you sure? Do you want me to go with you?"
"She cannot go back there. I won't let it happen. You know I've never liked the idea of...owning anyone but that...I've never seen anyone do that before. Let alone to a child," she placed a quick kiss against his forehead, "and no, you don't have to. You can stay here with her and help her with her reading. She's very good at it, just needs a bit of help."
Jamie chuckled and wrapped his arms around his wife's waist.
"Is that my new job? Private tutor?"
"Could be worse. You could be stuck with the original job I had for you tomorrow."
"And that would be?"
Abigail pulled back and winked playfully at him.
"Cleaning the bathroom. Top to bottom."
"...you know, I think I'll get her to read Milton"
Abigail arched her brow at him.
"...fine, fairytales it is."
"You have to do the voices."
Jamie grumbled and buried his head between her clothed breasts. Abigail couldn't help but giggle when he muttered, "you always make me do the voices."
The next day...
Abigail had found the house easy enough. It was a large estate and what had once been a prosperous and clean house seemed to have been run to slight ruin. Windows were broken and boarded up, paint was chipping and peeling on the walls and when she found herself inside, she was greeted by the over powering smell of alcohol and expensive perfume.
But she wasn't here to check out the house. She was also not here to confront the man from yesterday. She was here to get Mafi's papers and keep her with her. She squared her shoulders, set her jaw and reminded herself NOT to snap at him. No matter how he deserved it.
As she followed the servant through the house and into the study, she saw him, lounging back against his desk and reading a letter. He was still as unkempt as he had been the day before, but he appeared more sober than he had been.
"Mrs. Abigail Norrington for you, sir," The girl announced loudly and waited until he waved a dismissive hand at her. Because she couldn't help herself, Abigail turned quickly to the girl and nodded her head, saying, "thank you very much."
She knew he would have disliked the way she talked to 'his' servants, but she just had to. Just one little point to her.
When she turned back to him, he was still seated behind his desk.
"Do forgive me if I don't stand, madam," his tone was anything but polite and he barely made eye contact with her, "but I'm unfortunately in a bind. I'm looking to hire more servants because one of mine has gone missing."
'Don't. Lose. Your. Temper.'
That had been Jamie's words to her when she set off the day and she'd been repeating it to herself over and over again. And he was right. It would do no good to get mad.
She took a deep breath and nodded her head.
"Then I'm sorry you're...in a bind as such. But I've come to compensate you for your troubles."
She got right down to it, no need to beat around the bush when she knew exactly what she wanted. He finally dropped the papers he was holding and looked at her.
"I don't believe we've had a formal introduction," he'd obviously liked the word 'compensation' and stood up, his bow purposefully too low and little too pompous, "Erik Peter Barner. I'd offer you tea but-"
"But you've lost the servant who would bring you tea?" Abigail quickly bit her tongue and amended it by adding, "apologies again. But I'm all right. Will you hear me offer?"
Erik's eyebrows shot up, but seeing as she wasn't willing to make an small talk with him, nodded his head.
"I understand how," Abigail had prepared her words carefully, purposefully making them cool and calculating, knowing he wouldn't go for an emotional speech, "difficult the events of yesterday must have been for you, businesswise. As I said, I'm here to compensate you and offer you a deal: I would like to purchase M-Angelique from you."
She said it. She said the words she never wanted to say in her life and she hated herself for it. She never EVER wanted to 'purchase' a person as if they were an ornament for her home and less than a person.
"Oh?" He walked around his desk and seemed to contemplate this for a moment, before asking, "and how much would you think she is worth?"
Abigail took deep breaths as she prepared to negotiate. She had no head for business, but had watched enough of her father's trades to know to put money on the table before setting a 'final' offer.
"£200."
Erik laughed at her, as she had suspected.
"£300 then."
"No."
Abigail sighed, pretending to get frustrated. But she knew where this was going.
"I'm willing to pay up to £1000 which is more than double for what you would have paid for her."
Erik looked her up and down and she felt like SHE was being assessed for a price, when he asked, "you can afford it?"
"Yes. I can," she wasn't about to explain her entire business and affairs with this man, knowing he may very well use it against her, "I have the appropriate paperwork and my solicitor can show you proof. So, do we have a deal?"
He looked her up and down again and shook his head.
"No."
Abigail felt a little flabbergasted. He had seemed like a man with money on his mind, one that could be easily swayed by the flashing of cash. But she'd underestimated him.
Still, she was willing to go higher.
"Very well. £1,200-"
"I don't want your money."
That stopped her in her tracks. He didn't want money. She hadn't planned on this. She'd planned on going as high as she could to get Mafi out and safe from his house and throwing what money she could at him for her paperwork. But now...what to do.
"Well...there must be something you want?" Abigail thought on her feet, "if not money, some-"
"No trinkets. Rare Ornaments. No furniture. No house. My answer is no."
Abigail was not going to take that was an answer. She felt her anger rise when he turned his back to her, obviously intending to end the conversation there, but she snapped and took a step closer.
"There must be some form of payment you will take?!" She was tempted to add 'please', but knew he wouldn't be moved by that.
He slowly turned back to her when she allowed her anger to take control. He was silent as he looked at her and she waited for him. He turned again from her, but this time, his eyes landed on the piano in the far corner of his room.
"Do you play?"
Abigail looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Surely...he wasn't a man that would take a sweet song as payment? Had she underestimated him again?
"It's been a few years, but...I believe I know one or two."
"Then please. Sit."
Abigail hesitated for a minute. She didn't like the way he kept turning away from her, ending his side of the conversation. But she had to be polite. For Mafi's sake.
She made her way over and sat down on the bench. She dusted off the lid and lifted it up, finding everything in tact. She played a few tentative notes and finding the piano was in tune, slowly began to only song she remembered off by heart. The sound of Bach filled the air around her and she was transported back to her old home. With her brothers and father listening to her as she played for them. She felt safe and warm and in her mind, as she played, she put Jamie with her family. He had never heard her play and not seeing a piano as a necessity, he may never. But it still pleased her to stir the familiar images in her mind with such a simple song.
She faltered only when he moved behind her and a hand rested on her shoulder. It was firm and unmoving, but it still threw her off.
"Keep playing. It's been so long since there's been a woman here to play."
Abigail, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the hand continued onwards, but she faltered again when his other hand came to rest against the side of her neck. Her fingers shook as they rested against the keys and he leant over to whisper into her ear.
"Is that child really so important to you that you'd come all the way here to buy her off of me?" She shuddered in disgust, but he took it as a sign of something else, "No, I think she's just an excuse for what you really want."
Whilst one hand reached around and held her chin, turning her face towards his, the other hand snaked down her front and tried to slip inside her dress. She grabbed at his wrist and tried to pull him off.
"Stop this," her anger grew when he turned her head more forcibly and pressed his lips against hers.
"No!" She managed to shove him and cry out, though when she tried to stand, he went for her again and they stumbled and fell onto the floor.
He continued to grab at her, trying to kiss her and she felt his hot, sticky breath against the skin of her neck.
She remembered how to fight and would have kicked him off, but he grabbed her around her neck with both hands and held her down as he spoke.
"I know you have her. Once I find her again, she'll be back here. All I have to do is show the lawyers and authorities her papers to prove she's mine and they'll take her from you and give her back to me. And I'll lock her in the dark," his grip softened around her neck and his hands began to move downwards, "I just want to touch you. Allow me that and you can have that bastard child."
Abigail couldn't move. Her entire being was filled with terror at his words. At what he wanted. At what he'd do if she didn't let him.
She felt his hands move over her she grasped and weakly grabbed at his wrists as his hands roughly kneaded her breasts over her clothes.
"Please. Please, no," Abigail whimpered as he touched her, his hands staying at the front of her dress and tugging at her lacing. He didn't not answer her, but she watched his eyes roam over her when he finally bared her to his sight. His hands came over her bare skin and roughly grabbed her. His fingers pinched her nipples and she cried out in pain, though it seemed to urge him on more.
"Beautiful," he licked his lips and Abigail felt her skin crawl.
Only one man had touched her like this and she was betraying him. It was killing her inside to let Erik do this and all she could think about was her poor husband.
His hands came away from her breasts and moved lower, quickly pulled up the fabric of her skirts. She again tried to push his hands away, forgetting what she was there for.
"Please. Not there, please!"
"Do you not want her?" He smirked evilly when her hands stopped grabbing him, but they still tried to shove the fabric out of his hands, "Just for a moment. Hold your skirts."
Abigail, finding she needed something to hold onto, held her skirts up to her chest and covered herself so she didn't have to look at him. It made it worse. She felt him tug at her bloomers and pull them swiftly down until they were around her ankles.
His hands came to her thighs and squeezed them as he pulled them apart.
She turned her head to the side and felt hot tears run down her head and fall onto the carpet.
His eyes were on her. She knew he was just looking at her. She waited for him to reach out and touch her again.
He never did.
He stood suddenly and turned away from her.
"Leave," was all he said before he made his way back over to his desk and sat down. Abigail was stunned for a moment as he casually seemed to get back to the work she had interrupted before she had arrived.
She snapped herself out of her frozen and terrified state and quickly rearranged her clothing and turned from him to dry her face.
She got up, went to leave and remembered why she had allowed him to do that to her. She turned back to him and tried to stop her voice shaking.
"I need her papers and a letter of consent. I need it in writing that you agree-"
"No."
Abigail felt sick. He was refusing to let her have the papers to secure Mafi's freedom. Even after she'd let him...she just looked at him and he raised his head to look back at her, a small, sickly grin spreading over his face.
"Come back tomorrow and we'll talk some more then. I think a higher payment is required... but less tears tomorrow. We both know there's no need for dramatics."
A few hours later...
Abigail wasn't sure how she had gotten home. She did manage it eventually, but...everything was a blur. Her mind was whirring and she kept stopping to take deep, shuddering breaths. She'd cried twice and almost vomited in the road, but had maintained some dignity as she made her way back.
When she was outside her home, she knew she couldn't enter it and greet them as she was. She had to at least pretend everything was all right, even if it felt like she could shatter at any moment.
More deep breaths, more rearranging her clothes and smiling as nicely as she could before she opened her door and walked in. Jamie and Mafi were sitting at the table, eating from the bowl of fruit and both leaning over a heavy book on in front of them. They both looked up as Abigail entered and despite her panicked mind, she really did feel warmed by the image in front of her.
"How was it?" Her husband asked as he popped a grape into his mouth and Abigail found herself looking at Mafi and realising that she couldn't lie to him quite yet. So she stalled.
"We'll-we'll talk about it later," she nodded towards the little girl who suddenly looked at the orange in her head and began to peel it eagerly, "Don't let me bother you two, I've got stuff to do," she hurriedly made her way into the kitchen and began to busy herself, preparing water for something.
Jamie did note her odd behaviour, but feeling that it wasn't the right place to question her in front of Mafi, decided to let it go. For now.
He did however watch her go back and forth, like a headless chicken as she seemed to decide different things in different places. An idea came to his head, one that would get her alone and hopefully more comfortable than she was now.
"Darling," he got her attention when she made to move past him again, "why don't you go and bathe now? It'll be less of a hassle than waiting for after dinner and Mafi can have hers then whilst we clean up?"
Abigail nodded at him and quickly began to move about again, tidying up after herself.
"Good idea. A bath sounds...lovely," the way her voice shook at the last word told Jamie she was thinking it was anything but lovely. Something was wrong. And as he watched her hurry upstairs and avoid his gaze, he knew he would have to find out what it was. For Abigail's sake.
Abigail didn't even bother getting a spare change of clothes. She was up and down the stairs with buckets of water and Jamie had kindly prepared her the kettle on the stove. She filled the tub and linens up with water, not caring for oils or fragrance and stripped off hurriedly.
She sat down in the water and frantically began to scrub and wipe at her skin. She could still feel him. Feel the places where his rough and sweaty hands had touched her. And no matter how much she scrubbed, she could still feel him. Her hands shook and she dropped the soap into the water. It was no good. She couldn't wash off what he had done. What she had allowed him to do.
'You fool,' she felt more hot tears spill out and quickly clapped her hand over her mouth, trying to stop herself from sobbing loudly, 'you stupid, foolish woman.'
She let the tears fall into the water as she sat there and tried to get her emotions back under control, but he didn't know what to do. She was torn between her loyalty and love to Jamie and the overwhelming urge to protect Mafi.
Her body shook as she stifled a sob, but there was no point in hiding them now. A small noise alerted her to another presence in the room and she looked up to see Jamie, shutting the door behind him and looking at her with concern.
She couldn't bring herself to even look at him. Shame and guilt flooded her and she just looked down into the water, her hand moving from her mouth to her eyes, trying to hide herself. What could she possibly blame it on? How could she lie to him? How could she tell him the truth?
He came over to her, knelt down by the tub and reached out. As soon as his fingers touched her shoulder, she recoiled. She couldn't let him touch her after what she had done. He would be angry and heartbroken and have every right to feel that way.
But his hand came over her again and even though she flinched, he gently wrapped his fingers into her long hair and spoke softly.
"Darling. What's wrong? What happened?"
Abigail felt her heart clench painfully as she let out a loud sob. He was so kind and good to her and all he cared about was what had happened to her.
"I-I did something terrible. I'm sorry," she was still looking away from him, one hand covering her eyes, when the fingers in her hair moved to the back of her neck.
His other hand came around and tucked underneath her chin. He turned her to look at him and he managed to prise the hand away from her face and she saw the love in his eyes. His love and worry.
"Tell me? Please."
Abigail took a few deep breaths. She would not lie to him. And even if the truth destroyed the trust he had for her, she knew she had to tell him.
"I went to him...to ask him for the papers and the contract. I offered him money and...he didn't want it."
Her hand grabbed Jamie's and she squeezed it, wanting nothing more than to hold onto him forever. Relish what she had and what she thought she was about to destroy.
"He...doesn't want money. He wants...me. He wants me to lay with him."
Anger flashed in Jamie's eyes and he would have moved, but she wasn't finished. She took another shaky breath.
"I-I let him touch me. I'm sorry. He said he would give us Mafi if I let him and he-he lied," unable to control her tears or her sobs, she looked away from him, but still tried to beg his forgiveness, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Jamie's hands moved away from her and out of her grip and she knew he was angry. She'd done it. She'd destroyed what love and trust they had. He was going to get up and leave her in the room. She hoped he wouldn't walk out and leave her.
But he didn't.
Jamie Norrington. Her husband. Climbed into the bath in his clothes and boots and when he knelt in front of her, pulled her into his arms and held her close.
Abigail clung onto him and cried his name, over and over again, apologising every time she remembered to.
"Don't. You tried to do the right thing, don't apologise," his voice was thick and raw with emotion and she now knew the anger she had seen in his eyes before was not for her. It was towards Erik Barner and what he had done.
He held her as she finally managed to stop crying, but she finally registered the gentle rocking motion he was creating for her. The little 'shh' every now and again when she hiccupped or her breath caught. He wasn't leaving her. He was there to stay and he truly did not blame her.
"Love?" He pulled away slightly and made her look up at him, "you need to trust me when I say, this is not your fault. Please, do not blame yourself. You did it for her. Because you believed he would stay true to his word. You could not know. Please...please, do not blame yourself."
Abigail felt every word sink in slowly. She still felt guilty but...he was right. She could not know what a despicable human being Erik Barner was.
But that still left the issue of what would happen tomorrow.
"Jamie, he wants me to return to him tomorrow," she began to shake again at the very idea of him touching her, "he wants...he wants me then. I don't want to go," another sob escaped her lips, "I don't know what to do. Jamie...I can't let her go back there, he'll kill her or worse and I can't-I can't-"
"Love," Jamie pulled her forehead against his own and held either side of her face, "Love, listen to me. We'll think of something. You don't have to go back there, we'll think of something."
"What?" Abigail looked at him desperately, trying to see what he was thinking of, "what can we do? Short of shooting him, he won't give her to us!"
Jamie looked at her in silence for a moment, before a small smile broke over his face.
"I think that's a brilliant idea."
The next day.
Erik Barner was seated in his study again when his servant girl told him he had a guest. And yes, it was Mrs. Abigail Norrington who had called. A sickly grin spread over his face. He bid her leave, downed the last of his glass and poured himself another whiskey. He knew she would come back. He saw how fiery she'd been when they first met and whilst she'd been subdued and calm when she had offered him money, he could tell she was holding herself back. All for the sake of that child.
And when'd had her on the floor, quivering and trying to weakly fight him off, he'd seen how she was like any other woman who had deemed strong and confident: once he had his hands on her bare skin, she powerless to him. He had wanted to take her then and there and fuck her until she was raw and begging him to stop.
But he decided to play with her. If she was coming to satisfy him today, then he'd consider giving her the child. If not...then he'd make her keep returning everyday until he was satisfied.
She walked into his study, calm and composed as the day before and he was surprised by her composure. He had expected her to be a lot more nervous. But no. She stood to her full height and wore a much more pleasing dress than she had worn the day before. Cut lower and with her corset pulled tighter, her breasts appeared fuller. He remembered how they felt in his hands and the way she cried out when he'd pinched her.
As soon as the door shut behind them, the servant girl retreating as quickly as she could, Abigail did not hesitate.
"I've come to discuss the terms. If you're still open as you were yesterday?"
Erik arched a curious brow at her. When she'd left, he was sure he'd broken her by the way she sobbed and retreated as though the hounds of hell were after her. She had seemed so virtuous and now...she was acting more like a businessman than a frightened little mouse.
"I'm still open to it, though you seemed to have some...reservations," he watched and waited for her response, but he got none so he continued, "very well, Mrs. Norrington. What are your terms?"
Abigail squared her shoulders and took a couple of confident steps towards him.
"I agree to the higher payment. But only under two conditions: One is that you swear, once it is fulfilled and we are satisfied you are to hand over the papers and a letter of consent, giving me Mafi."
Erik nodded. Of course, he would wait until after to see how satisfied he was. Hell, if she satisfied him too much, he may very well keep her in place of Mafi.
"Agreed. And the second?"
Abigail suddenly grew nervous and looked at him, fearful and worry creeping into her voice.
"My husband must not find out about this. He was already suspicious when I left the house today to visit you again. He's not a man you want to quarrel with."
"Oh? What is he, a judge? One of King George's men?"
"A former admiral who sustained a near fatal wound fighting pirates. Retired. One of the best and most skilled swordsman and marksman. He has...quite a temper," she cupped her cheek as if remembering an incident and Erik felt a slight pang of fear himself, "Can I trust you with discretion?"
"Of course, Mrs-"
"Please," for the first time since they'd met, she offered him a small, sweet smile, "Abigail."
Erik couldn't have planned this better. Not only was she here and willing, but she seemed more than happy to betray her husband. Perhaps the fear of discovery from yesterday had hindered her want? And perhaps, finding her husband had not discovered WHAT they had done in the study had urged her to return to Erik?
"Abigail...perhaps I underestimated you after all," he smiled and slowly approached her, "I believe we simply got off on the wrong foot."
He stood, a few inches away from her and was pleased to see she didn't flinch away.
"Would you care to join me upstairs-"
Abigail pressed her hand to his lips, cutting him off and shook her head.
"No. Here will do."
Erik felt himself harden at her confidence and eagerness.
"Here? Surely, for your comfort-"
Her hand moved again, as did the rest of her. She pressed her chest to his and he looked down the front of her dress, seeing the generous swell of her breasts pressed against him.
His eyes moved slowly back up to hers and his cock hardened fully when he saw the way she looked at him.
"I'm not looking for comfort. And neither are you."
His hands grabbed her and quickly began to push her backwards. He had to have her. Now. She walked backwards and grabbed hold of his shirt, pulling him with her.
He had her pressed against a hard surface and could have laughed when he saw it was the piano. His hands gripped her hips, lifted her and she sat on the edge, pulling him closer.
Her eyes were not looking at his face anymore, instead concentrating on the buttons of his shirt and waistcoat.
His hands lifted her skirts again, the same way he had done yesterday, but before he had a chance to tug down her bloomers, her hands grabbed at his belt and began to fumble.
"Off. Now," she said in hungry, husky way that made him want to throw her on the floor and fuck her as he had dreamed yesterday. But he also liked the slightly commanding tone in her voice.
Both of them unbuckled his belt, undid the lacing to his trousers and pulled them down, below his waist. His cock sprang free and she gasped in what he could only assume was hunger and admiration. She lifted her head back to look at him and he leaned in closer, wanting to press his lips against hers and taste her again-
The doors behind them sprung open and banged loudly against the walls.
They both quickly looked over and only whilst Erik did not know who this man was, he had a horrible, sinking feeling that Abigail's husband had come to call.
"I knew it," his hands fell to his sides and balled into fists as he glared at them, "A scoundrel and a WHORE!"
He bellowed the last word loudly and stalked towards them, Erik jumping out of the way to quickly pull up and re-do his trousers. He was pleased that he was not the first in the line of fire, Norrington's eyes focused solely on his trembling wife.
She clambered down from the piano and shook her head.
"Darling, no-"
The former admiral grabbed her by her forearms, turned her about so his back was to Erik and threw his hand out to the side.
"How DARE you speak without permission!"
Erik watched in horror as Norrington struck his wife across the face, so hard that she fell to the floor with a scream.
Her head bent low, she cradled the side of her face and stayed down.
"Please, please, darling, no more-"
"I'll deal with you later, at home!" He growled at the quivering figure of his wife before turning around and looking at Erik with cold, hard eyes.
"Sir, I-"
Erik choked on his words when the man drew his pistol from his belt and pointed it directly at his face. They both stared at one another, Erik trembling just as much as Abigail seemed to be.
"If I were as less of a man as you are, I'd shoot you dead. But," slowly he lowered his pistol and scowled at Erik, "my honour and pride has been tarnished. YOU have impeded it. Bring your pistol. Outside. Now. Or I will shoot you and make your death slow and miserable."
He waited. Erik's mouth opened a few times, but no sound came out. The only sound that could be heard was Abigail's frightened sobbing, muffled against her hands.
He had three choices: Refuse to fight and get shot.
Run and risk getting shot if he was too slow.
Or do as the man asked. Bring his pistol outside and duel him, one on one.
Erik was not a confident marksman. He'd practiced when he got drunk, usually aiming at one of the servants if he felt like it. But now, he had no confidence against a man whose wife had described him as one of the best.
It was no good. He tried to think of a way out of it, but looking into Norrington's eyes he could see the man wasn't one to be bargained with. He wanted to fight and by the looks of it, he was going to get his way.
Outside...
"I suspect you've never been in a duel before. Do you know the rules?"
Erik had a loose grasp on the rules. He knew you walked, took a shot and whoever survived without a scratch was a lucky bastard. And if the one that had been shot was not dead straight away, they would be in a week or so. Slow, agonising death by infection, caused by the wound. He'd heard far too many stories from his friends, most of which seemed too good to be true. And now, he was probably going to prove one of those stories correct.
"Sir, I must request we talk about this as civilised Gentlemen," Erik tried to keep himself calm, but his voice shook, "I'm sure we can come to some understanding-"
"If you refuse to fight me now, then I assume you forfeit. Forfeiting allows me to shoot you where you stand. Like a dog," James Norrington's cold look had not changed since they'd left the house, "I'm giving you a chance to salvage your dignity. Now, the rules."
Erik was only half listening as he explained the rules of a duel to him. He was concentrating on keeping himself upright when James moved him so they were back to back. He was also concentrated on not having a heart attack as they began to walk, counting to ten as they went.
As James counted out nine, Erik turned quickly, hoping to catch the man out. But, of course, he'd seen it coming. Before Erik could even fire his pistol, James turned around, aimed and shoot him.
Erik fell to the ground, the pistol flying out of his hand as he cradled his bloodied limb. He looked down and gasped at the sight that greeted him: his two fingers were missing and his ring finger was cut open. Blood dripped down onto the ground beneath him and he cursed and cried out in agony as a wave of pain swept over him.
He was only distracted by the crunching of boots and the sudden appearance of Norrington in front of him. He looked up at him, just in time to see him preparing his pistol again.
"Ten."
He pointed his pistol at Erik's head, anger flashing over his eyes. Erik held up his good hand in surrender.
"Please. Your wife was the one who came to me."
"I'll deal with her later. But give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your brains out now and let you greet God this day?"
"I can pay. I have enough."
"I have sufficient money."
Erik began to grasp desperately at what straws he had. Abigail had pointed out she had money and the only thing she wanted was the girl. Perhaps...
"Then- the girl! Your wife wanted her for your house! You can have her and any other servant as-as compensation!"
The pistol was lowered and Erik watched the man deliberate.
"Yes, we could do with extra help around the house," he callously said and tucked his pistol back into his belt, "we'll take the one for now. If her work is satisfying, we'll return and get the other. Get up."
Erik hurriedly scrambled to his feet and began to lead the way back inside his house, chatting animatedly to his 'new friend' about how wonderful and hardworking his servants were. He was doing it partly to appease Norrington, but also to concentrate on something else other than the pain in his hand.
They walked back into the study, where Abigail was still in the same spot she had been left, her sobs having quietened down, but her hands still shaking and covering her face. Erik watch James ignore her and walk straight to his desk.
"Papers. And letter of consent," he snarled at Erik as the man scuttled around to the other side, "and a personal promise from me, that if I ever catch you with my wife again, I will shoot you."
Erik nodded his head and hurriedly scrabbled into his desk for his papers. He was thankful that Norrington had allowed him to quickly bandage his hand when they'd entered the house, though he wasn't happy to be using on his old coat sleeves.
Still, when he pulled out his papers and began to spread them out on the desk, only a small amount of blood smeared over them. He quickly found the one with 'Angelique's' ownership and scribbled over his name, handing it to the man.
Norrington took it, but gave him a hard stare.
"And the letter."
Erik looked a little startled.
"But, my hand-"
"You've got another one. I'll help."
His idea of helping was to dictate something very short and to the point and have Erik sign his name under it. It was enough and even if he showed it to his lawyers, he knew he wouldn't have a leg to stand on.
As soon as he handed the sheet of paper over, he expected many things. Norrington to change his mind and whip his pistol back out. Norrington to go on a long speech about the repercussions of sleeping with married women, specifically his wife.
What he hadn't expected was the triumphant smile that spread across Norrington's face as he looked at the papers in his hands.
"Yes. This seems satisfactory," he turned around and addressed his wife, "Got it!"
Erik was stupefied as Abigail's hands fell away to reveal a dry face and a smug grin. She quickly got up and walked over to her husband, eagerly taking the papers from him. She scanned the contents quickly and seemingly satisfied, folded them neatly up and shoved them down the front of her dress.
"Brilliant!" She looked at her husband and then at Erik, "Oh dear. I suggest getting that seen to. Could turn nasty. Gangrene and all. Don't want to lose that hand, do you?"
Erik looked between the smiling pair and the truth finally came to him.
"You-you-tricked me!" He blustered, shocked that he'd fallen for it.
Slowly, James Norrington, former Admiral and Commodore walked away from his wife and around the desk that separated them. He was calm, composed and his hands were behind his back as he spoke.
"I could spend all day trying to talk to you, but I have a feeling it won't get through as well as that shot to the hand did. So, count it as a reminder: never raise your hand to anyone here again. If I hear about it, I will come back and show no mercy."
He came to stand in front of Erik, a polite smile on his face.
"And one more thing."
Erik did not move quick enough. Jamie's fist connected with his nose and he flew backwards, hitting his chair and tumbling down onto the ground. More blood began to pool out of him and he held up his bandaged hand to try to stop the flow, the pain radiating from the break being just as bad as the pain in his hand.
Jamie took one step towards him and Erik scuttled back, in fear he would hit him again. But he just stared down at him, the hard glare returning.
"That's for my wife."
Abigail suddenly appeared at Erik's side and crouched down, her face level with his. For one moment, he thought she would show him kindness and tend to his wounds. But her hand grabbed the front of his shirt and she only smiled politely at him.
"And this. This is for Mafi."
Erik's head snapped back when her own fist planted a spectacular punch between his cheek and his eye. The pain quickly doubled and when she released her grip from the front of his shirt, he fell backwards against the floor, whimpering and groaning.
Abigail stood up, dusted off her hands and turned to her husband.
"All right, let's go home."
They walked out from around the table and Jamie's arm slipper happily around her waist as he guided them out. The last thing Erik saw, before the darkest faded, was Abigail and James Norrington, holding one another as they left his house.
They did not stop until they were outside, Abigail quickly shaking the hand out as she tried to get rid of the pain in her knuckles.
"Ow. For someone with such a small brain, he's got a hard head."
"That's what happens when you insist on getting in on the fight," Jamie stopped them and quickly turned her about, his hands coming either side of her head as he inspected her face, "speaking of which, I didn't accidentally catch you, did I? I thought my sleeve may have gotten caught-"
"You're fine, you practiced it and your timing was perfect," Abigail grabbed his hands and pressed kisses to either of his palms, "And well done for only shooting him in the hand."
"Why, where would you have me shoot him?"
Abigail didn't say anything. She merely looked down at the front of his trousers and smiled darkly at him.
He could only shake his head and laugh.
"Too good for the likes of him," he lent forward, intending to kiss her but stopped just before to add, "also, you're not wearing that dress out again."
Abigail purposefully turned her head to the side so his lips landed against her cheek instead.
"Why not?" She asked innocently, though he could hear the teasing in her tone.
"You know why."
"Oh? And what are you going to do if I DO wear it?"
Jamie began to press kisses along the side of her face until he reached her ear. He whispered, "throw it on the fire and put you across my knee."
Abigail giggled and playfully shoved him away.
"Stop that," her fingers entwined with his and she began to pull him along again, "Save it for later. Come on, let's get home and tell Mafi the good news."
As they walked through town and along the dusty, beaten road, Jamie listened to her talk excitedly. His heart sank when she started to discuss plans for Mafi and he knew, he had to stop her when she talked about what to get the girl.
"I have some time tomorrow, I can go to the market and get her some clothes. And a bed with a lovely frame."
"Abigail-"
"And books. She'll want to pick out her own, but I'm sure they'll be ones to help her start off reading-"
Jamie tugged Abigail's hand, forcing her to stop walking and look at him.
"Abigail," he shook his head and spoke as gently as he could, "Darling...you know she can't stay with us."
Abigail looked taken aback for a moment.
"She-She can. It won't be an issue-"
"Not with us. I want her to stay too, but...you know it's not safe," Jamie stepped forward and looked beseechingly at Abigail, "if Erik chooses to stir up trouble for us, he could easily get the law involved. He may have signed the letter of consent and contract, but if he states it was because I attacked him...he may not get Mafi back, but she won't be allowed to stay with us. She'll be sent somewhere else. Possibly someplace worse."
Abigail shook her head and tried to break her hands free from Jamie's, but he refused to let go of her.
"No, we can fight for her, she'll-she'll-"
"There's another way...if we can send her away, someplace far away, she'll be safe."
Abigail's lips began to quiver and he saw the pain in her eyes. She knew he was right but...there was another problem.
"Jamie...Jamie, I love her," Abigail looked at him, hoping he would understand, "I know it's only been a short time, but I do."
"I know, Love," he pulled Abigail against him and tucked her head under his chin as he held her close, "I've grown fond of her also."
Abigail began to cry again as she clung to her husband, knowing that she had to lose this little girl before she really had a chance to get to know her.
"Why...why can't she stay," she whimpered, but already knew the answer.
"She'll be safer away from here, where he can't get his hands on her. Love...it is the right thing to do."
Abigail held onto him and she could only nod to show that she understood. But it didn't make it any easier. In fact, it made her feel ten times worse.
A few days later...
As Abigail tucked the cloak around Mafi and tied the ribbons at the front, she took her time in making a perfect bow, just wanting to stay as close to her as she could.
"There we go, perfect," her hands shook as they fell away from the ribbon, her hands moving over to fuss with the edges of the cloak once more, "nice and warm AND dry."
Abigail was trying to reassure herself more than Mafi. She knew the boat ride would not be easy, but the least she could do was provide her with a warm cloak that wouldn't get wet. She took deep breaths as she prepared herself to let go, but she didn't know if she could.
Jamie had told her of his plans and arrangements countless times, but she still didn't want to let go. Mafi would get on a boat with a family she did not know and be taken to an island owned by a good man. Jamie had assured her that the man was indeed good and whilst he had servants, he never 'kept' people. From what he'd seen and heard, the man was good and the people who lived there were happy. And that's all they wanted for Mafi, was for her to be happy.
"Abigail...it's time."
Abigail turned her head slightly, seeing Jamie standing beside her and his hand brushing against her shoulder, wanting to give her more time but unable to.
Abigail looked back at Mafi and tried to fight back her own tears as Mafi let hers fall freely.
"Be brave. Be brave for me, all right?"
Without warning, Mafi dove forward and held Abigail tightly, her little hands joining together around the back of her neck.
"I wish I could stay with you."
That was it. The wall she had built up, the little string she'd had holding back the bucket of tears...she held Mafi back tightly and cried with her.
"Me too. I wish it so much, but this...this is much better. You'll be happy where you're going and safe."
Reluctantly, she pulled back and kept Mafi at arms length. If she let her hug her again, she really wouldn't let go.
"We have something for you," Abigail took deep breaths to control her wobbling voice and turned to Jamie. He produced a small book, one that they had purchased that morning. He handed it to Mafi, who took it and held it tightly against her.
"I know it may be difficult but...Keep practising. Keep reading. And then, when you can write, I want a letter. I want lots of letters about all the lovely animals you see...ok?"
Mafi nodded at her.
"And I promise, I'll write you back...if you like?"
Mafi finally smiled at her and nodded again.
As soon as Abigail's hands left her small shoulders, she stood up, took a step back and sought out her husband's hand. When fingers locked with hers, she held onto him tightly.
Jamie had already said his polite goodbyes to Mafi, offering his hand for her to shake. Mafi had only hugged him tightly around the waist, Abigail finding a small amount of amusement as she watched him tentatively hug the girl back, as though afraid he would hurt her.
Goodbyes were said between everyone, Jamie asking for a letter so they would know they reached the island safely. Abigail had been unable to take her eyes off of the scared little girl as she clutched the book tightly to her chest.
Everything began to blur together. It hurt so much to watch them all climb into the tiny boat and row away. Mafi looked back and wouldn't turn around.
Abigail and Jamie stood and watched them go. Even when they were a tiny speck on the sea and the sun began to set, she wouldn't move. It was Jamie wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back home that she finally managed to walk. But even getting home was hard. Her heart felt sore and heavy and only Jamie's comforting presence by her side kept her walking. If he stopped, so would she.
Finally, they were back at their own home. And whilst it should have felt warm and welcoming...it felt a little bit emptier this evening.
"Come sit down," Jamie pulled her again and this time, got her to sit at the kitchen table, "I'll make you some tea."
"No, I-I don't want tea," Abigail looked down at the table in front of her, splaying her hands out against the wooden surface, "I don't...I don't think I want anything."
Jamie took the seat opposite her and slowly reached forward. Their slipped together easily.
"I hate to see you like this," his thumb slowly traced over the back of her knuckles, unsure of how to comfort her. Abigail shut her eyes, willing the tears away before they started again.
"I just fell in love with her so easily. She needed my help but...when she was here, we talked and she followed me and I just-I just," Abigail stopped herself, unable to convey how she felt at the moment. How this little girl, whom they had not even known for a week, had effected Abigail in such a way. How for a short time, she may not have been a mother, but she did slip into the parenting role eagerly and happily, especially for such a child as Mafi.
"I know," Jamie told her and whilst she felt he didn't understand, she knew he was sincere. She also knew she couldn't sit around and cry about it for the rest of the night. At least, not all the time in front of Jamie when her being upset would upset him.
"I urm, I left laundry outside earlier," she got up and made quick excuses, "I best go and get it."
She grabbed the basket by the door and headed out, not looking behind her. Truthfully, it was just one dress and shirt, but she needed the air for a minute or two. Just...needed to think.
Mafi had awakened something in her that she hadn't realised she'd been craving. She'd told Jamie that she wanted to spend more time with him and put off starting a family straight away but...she truly wanted that. She had wanted a family with him for so long and Mafi...she had wanted Mafi to be part of that family, regardless of what people would have thought. She would have fought tooth and claw to keep her, but Jamie had been right...if they hadn't of sent her away, she wouldn't be safe. It was the right thing to do.
With a heavy sigh, Abigail took down the two items she'd left out, put them in her basket and walked back inside. Jamie might not understand her current feelings, but he would be there for her. He'd proven that after she told him what Erik did. He'd helped her see that it wasn't her fault what had happened. It made her love for him grow stronger than she thought possible.
As she entered the house again, she was surprised to find Jamie had moved from the table and into his armchair. However, when the sound of the door opening seemed to startle him, he stood suddenly, with his back to her and his arm coming to his face.
"Jamie?" She slowly approached him, wondering what he had been doing.
His shoulders sagged and his head bent low before he turned towards her. In his hand was a small piece of parchment that had some loose scribblings on it. Something he had been helping Mafi with when learning her letters.
In his eyes, were fresh tears and he gave her a guilty sort of smile.
"I told you I'd grown fond of her also."
Abigail knew then that she had underestimated him when she thought he didn't understand her feelings. Dropping the basket onto the table as she walked past, she came to stand in front of him.
"Jamie."
She wanted to tell him she was ready. She wanted to let him know she wanted to start a family with him. To carry his child.
But all words fled as their arms came about one another and they just held on, comforting one another at what could have been. She was ready and she could see he was also, but...there would be time. Not today and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. For now, they were together. And whilst they both wanted more...they were content with the family they had right at that moment.