Chapter 21: The Cruel and Beautiful Tricks of Nature

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Chapter 21: The Cruel and Beautiful Tricks of Nature

"How are you healing?"

Malia didn't move from where she stood and tried to keep her face from betraying her discomfort. "I think I should be in good shape very soon, Mrs. Quincy."

"Good," the blonde beauty smiled wider. "Are you shocked to be here?"

"In your home? Yes."

"Then we share that sentiment," Abigail folded her hands in front of her. "I wasn't expecting John to bring you here, so you can imagine my unfortunate surprise when he had all the servants fawning over you."

"With respect, Mrs. Quincy, I didn't ask to be brought here. The Magistrate said that I needed to be put into protection, that is all I know."

"Malia, you can drop the innocent act," Abigail clenched her jaw. "I know."

Shock ran through Malia like an ice storm and it was all she could do to not turn and run from the study, and as far away from the Quincy home as she could get. "What?"

"I know," Abigail repeated. "About you and my husband, that is. I've known for some time."

"How?"

"I'm his wife, Malia," Abigail said as though that answered everything. "There is nothing about John that I do not know, his whores included."

Malia tried and failed to keep the shock from her face, so much so that her mind didn't even register the insult. "Mrs. Quincy... I..."

"Oh, I am not angry at you," Abigail said, shaking her head. "No, actually I find myself not caring at all. Do you want to why?"

Trembling from head to foot and incapable of forming words, Malia nodded.

"Because he will tire of you soon enough," she said. "He will see that bedding you is a fruitless endeavor, that you will always be and outsider here in England. His lust for you will die out soon enough, and that I can promise. You are the first he has strayed for, yes, but you aren't special enough to latch onto, no matter what he tells you."

Malia didn't know what she felt more: shock, anger, or humiliation. She should have known it would come to this, that her's and John's fantasy would end with the wrong person finding out. She just didn't expect that someone to be Abigail, far from it.

"Shocked speechless I see," Abigail chuckled. "Ah, my dear, young girls with no means to speak of, much like yourself, will always reach too high and forget that it's a long way to fall after it all slips from your hands."

"Is that why you brought me here?" Malia asked. "To tell me that you know?"

"No," Abigail shook her head. "It's not even the most important part."

"What is?"

"Arthur Denning assaulted you that night, because you saw him murder Cromwell."

"I know, I was there."

"What else do you know?"

Malia frowned. "If you're asking if I know about your affair with him, I do."

Abigail closed her eyes in frustration and cursed. "Of course you do. May I ask how? You couldn't have gathered that merely from his attack."

"Why do you care?" Malia asked. "I should think that you wouldn't be too afraid of my telling anyone."

"Words spoken against me in this town will be swallowed up," Abigail said. "And the last thing I need is you blathering on about things you can't possibly know. I have a family to protect, something that your childish brain cannot comprehend, and the news that John and I both have been unfaithful to one another is enough to ruin us. That is why I care."

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