Chapter 11: You Again

Abigail wondered if this was all worth it, if this life was worth all of the difficulties that came with it. She felt entirely out of place here, where everyone else seemed to fit so seamlessly into this world, and this house.

Even Lyall, who wasn’t even family, seemed to be able to deal with the staff in his own personal way. And even though Charlotte didn’t seem to like him, at least she wasn’t openly hostile to him.

Her stepmother would see her thrown out of this house, if she could. And Abigail had done absolutely nothing to her. She knew she had been born before Charlotte and her dad had even gotten together. Olivia two years younger than her. And it wasn’t like her father had signed all their wealth over to Abigail, just given her a fraction of what Olivia had been given.

Olivia herself had said so, that everything Abigail had, her clothes and jewels and money, were trifling pieces compared to the fortune Olivia had just in her clothing.

And Olivia, what even could she make out about her sister? One minute she was nice, and the next she was more insulting than her mother. When they were alone she was the kindest person to Abigail, and as soon as someone else was involved, she had to try and destroy her in any way she could.

And above everything, she hadn’t counted on missing her mother, and her old life, this much.

And to think, she had come all this way, done all these things, to be closer to her father. Who just couldn’t seem to care. He had to rush out this morning when she finally made it back in, then to discover he hadn’t actually gone out, just to his private office. And then to think he had requested – so politely! – for Lyall to come to his office but couldn’t be bothered to just stay a few more minutes with Abigail at breakfast, just because she had been late and in the wrong room.

How did he expect her to just adjust to everything all at once? And why hadn’t he thought to invite her into his office?

Abigail sat, sobbing into her clothing, when she heard the branches crackle around her.

What, had Lyall come again? Maybe he wanted his chance to run her down today, too. After Mark, then Olivia and Charlotte. And her dad this morning, taking his shot before anyone else even got a chance.

Abigail looked up, ready to attack whoever disturbed her.

But she deflated when she saw that it was only the gardener again. Did he have to work here? Wasn’t there any other part of the land that needed his attention right now?

Abigail bit her tongue, but then thought better of it. Why should she? Why should she be the one keeping her thoughts and words quiet all the time? And just enduring everyone’s abuse.

“Is there nowhere else you can work right this minute?” Abigail asked, a little more bite to her voice than she’d imagined. But oh, well, she deserved a little outrage of her own.

“I’m working here,” Mark told her, his lips pressed into a tight line, his voice stern and unyielding. “This is the part of the forest that requires my urgent attention, this is where I need to be.”

Abigail briefly considered just getting up and leaving. But that would mean going back into the house in this condition. And she really did not want to run into Olivia or Charlotte or even Lyall in this condition. And even if they didn’t see her, there was a good chance she would run into some servant or other.

It was virtually impossible not to run into servants in that house.

And Abigail had no idea where most of their loyalties lay. With her luck, they might just go running to Charlotte or Olivia or both and report her condition to them. With her luck right now, they might even take pictures.

And then they would know how much they had hurt her, and how close to breaking down she was.

No. Abigail shook her head. She had to stay here. She had to stand her ground here. If she couldn’t even keep her head above water with the servants, what chance did she stand against the two mistresses of the household?

She needed to stay here. At least until her crying episode subsided, and all evidence of it was gone from her face.

She might even have to wash her face in the pond she’d passed on her way here.

“Please,” Abigail begged, her irritation showing through her words, she closed her eyes in exasperation. “Can you please just go somewhere else, just for a little bit? I promise not to complain to my father about you. And if he asks, I’ll say I asked you to leave me alone here for a bit.”

Abigail was trying to be accommodating. She was trying to be rational. She was trying to find a way that she could make this work for the both of them. But she was losing her momentum and energy. She was very close to falling apart and she would just like a few moments to herself to do that in private.

“Threatening me with your father, huh?” Mark snorted. “Tell me again how not a rich spoiled brat you are? You know you’re following the lines word for word, right? What, you going to threaten to get me fired next if I don’t stop doing my very job?”

“Are you so heartless,” Abigail spat, “You can’t even give me a few minutes to myself in my own father’s garden?”

She sounded like Olivia. Like Charlotte. Abigail sounded like a spoiled little rich girl, exactly what Mark accused her of being, and she knew it. But right now, Abigail couldn’t be bothered to care. She just wanted five god d*mn minutes alone to cry. Why was that so much to ask for?

“What,” Mark said, clearly irritated and oblivious to the distraught feelings going through Abigail. “Daddy refused to get you the bracelet you wanted from the Museum of History even though it would look so much better on your arm than for the public to see the history of the world?”

Abigail felt a moment of calm go through her, before she felt rage well up inside her. She climbed off the rock she was sitting on, and – tears still streaming down her face – marched until she was close enough in touching distance of Mark.

“You know what,” She seethed at him. “You have no damn right to judge me! To say anything like that to me!”

“Yeah, why?!” Mark prodded, stepping closer to her as well, even though they were both yelling so loud they could probably hear each other if they stood on opposite ends of the property at this point.

“Because you don’t know a damn thing about me!” Abigail answered. “You don’t know anything about the truth of what’s going on around here, or who I actually am.”

“Rich girl, daddy’s fortune, what’s there to understand, really?” Mark asked seriously this time. It was like he was actually questioning the validity of her life. How could there be anything wrong in her perfect life.

“To understand,” Abigail said again, softer this time, though with no less edge to her voice. “What there is to understand, is that I wasn’t born into this. I was born to a single mother who lived in an apartment smaller than the gardening shed on this place. I was born without knowing who my father was, even though he knew I existed all my life. I grew up thinking he didn’t want me, and it was true.”

Abigail’s voice broke as she spoke, but she forced herself to continue.

“For my whole life, he just pretended I didn’t exist,” Abigail said. “And then yesterday – yesterday! – he just sweeps in and introduces me to my new family, to my new life. A new life I don’t know how to live. A new family that hates me!”

Abigail sobbed. “And he took me away from my mother, so that I could get to know him, but where is he? Leaving me alone with my half-sister who only speaks in insults, and my step-mother who might try to poison me at any minute. A stepmother who, besides the verbal abuse I’ve endured so far, hasn’t even bothered to look at me. I doubt she even knows my name.”

“And where is my father? My reason for being here?” Abigail asked. “In his study, in his private office, with his protégé, who had the pleasure of meeting this morning.”

Mark stood staring at her in shock for the duration of her tirade, trying very hard to process everything she was saying to him.

When Abigail finally broke down, her anger vented, Mark had absolutely no idea what to say. And when Abigail started crying again, Mark acted without thinking. He stepped closer to her, closing the barely five-centimeter space between them, and pulled her against his chest.

Abigail froze for a few moments in his arms, and then, after a moment, relaxed entirely, and broke down sobbing against him.