Chapter 15

Abigail thought he was only kidding when he said he extended his visit, but to her horror, he was still there tomorrow, the next day, and the day after that. She tried everything in her power to avoid him at all costs and was thankful that his busy schedule and complicated business contracts kept him in his study. And fortunately for her, his living quarters were strictly out of her line of duties. She was at least thankful for that.

One day, Sir Barrington called her into one of his offices with a request. When she appeared, he instantly knew she was not herself and had not been the last couple of days.

"Something the matter, little Missy?" He took his glasses off.

Abigail didn't know she was that obvious and scrambled to make an excuse for her mood.

"Just nervous about university."

"It's unbelievable that you're already this grown. I still remembered when you were born as if it was yesterday."

He was seated behind a grandeur mahogany desk. Unlike her Father's clustered one, his desk only consisted of a pen holder and a picture of his wife holding a young Lucas. When she didn't answer, he thought it nice to change the subject.

"You look so much like your mother. Marybelle."

Abigail looked up from the floor.

"Father doesn't talk about her much."

"Of course he doesn't and don't expect him to, child. It hurts for him to talk about it. He loved her so much."

She thought about his comment for a moment. If that were true, it must also be the other way around.

"Sir, you must love Lady Barrington too, since you don't talk about her."

She wasn't afraid to bring up the topic of the Lady. She knew Sir Barrington was approachable and open to discussing any subject.

"The most fearless woman I've ever met." A large smile appeared on his lips as he reminisced about his wife. "Did you know that before you were born, she smacked the bloody crap out of Lucas for taking one of John's toys? It was a spectacle to behold." The smile turned into laughter. "Oh, the times when that man was still a squirt of a boy. Now he's taller than me and thinks he's smarter than me."

The focus of the topic had geared off to someone she didn't want to mention. He saw this and retracted.

"Willow was tough on Lucas because she wanted him to become a better person for something she couldn't have. What she wanted most in this world was a baby girl to call her own. We tried for so many years but we just couldn't have one. And then you came along. Sweet, little Abigail."

Abigail remembered the Lady more than her Mother. While her Mother was busy with work around the Manor, Lady Barrington would play with her, take her on walks and brush her hair. It was always the topic of scrutiny but also attention and love. Her hair. She had a lot and they were wavy and got caught in everything. The Lady enjoyed dazzling her hair in different styles and decorating it with bows and pins, although she was much defeated by the disorderly of it at the end.

"Lady Barrington was very kind," she managed to say. Right after making this comment, she was immediately reminded of how different the parents were from their child.

"She was indeed," he agreed.

There was a moment of pause as they were deep in their own thoughts. There was a question she had always wanted to ask, and she did ask when she was younger, but she was dismissed and told never to think about it again. But she wanted to and there was no one else better than him.

"Sir, if you don't mind me inquiring about the deaths of my Mother and the Lady, how did they die?"

She could tell the Master's face changed just slightly to accommodate the topic.

"Well, you know that they died in a car accident." His answer was neither a statement nor a question. He fidgeted in his seat.

"In the same car?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

She wasn't convinced.

"Where were they going?"

He opened his mouth but caught himself as if he was contemplating being discreet. Finally, he pressed his lips together into a rough smile.

"That story will soil the mood. But if you really want to know, I'll tell you right after you do something for me."

He rolled his chair back a ways while holding up a finger. Pulling out a drawer, he reached in to grab something.

"Can you please return this to Lucas?"

Sir Barrington handed her a leather notebook. It was the same one she saw in his closet. The book was the size of a regular spiral notebook with thick leather covers. She had completely forgotten about it and at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to be drawn into knowing Lucas's dangerous life.

She took the item from him and felt the weight of it in her hand.

"Tell him that if he wants to destroy it, he should do it himself."

She was puzzled at the strange request but didn't refuse. On the other hand, she couldn't help but sense the opportunity was too good to be true. She had wanted to look into it, and now it's given to her with no doubt. She became suspicious. And Sir Barrington changing the subject like that. Could it be a trap?

She stepped out of the office with the book in her arms.

No matter what it was, no one could tell if she took a peek right? If he already planned to throw it out, she should get to it before it's gone forever.

She gave herself the time frame of finding Lucas to pressure the morals of her principles. In this case, if she found him before understanding the contents inside then it should be left at that.

Abigail was in the middle of a hallway. The book suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. She slowly parted the pages to a random spot, and it happened to have a parchment slipped inside. When she realized what it was, she stopped and told herself she needed a table.

The magnificent advantage of Penrose Manor was its many rooms. She walked into the nearest one, which happened to be a library, and quickly closed the door behind her. Finding Lucas could wait a few more minutes.

There was a table in the middle of the room and she took its seat. The parchment wedged between the pages was a blueprint. Abigail took it out and unfold it onto the table. It was small for a blueprint, but it was blue nonetheless.

What piqued her interest wasn't the blueprint itself, but the name etched to the bottom of it.

The Shed.

The paper was an exact print of her shed in the garden. And as she started to flip through the pages of the notebook, there were tons of initial hand drawings of the original, of shelves and cabinets inside.

There were also labels and dates. She couldn't recognize the handwriting, but there was one thing she knew for sure. This was not Sir Barrington's handwriting.

When the shed was first built, she was told that Sir Barrington built it for her because she wanted to start gardening and needed distraction from thinking about her Mother.

Or did he? Why would he do such a big favor as to build a property on his estate for her anyways? It couldn't possibly be because he adored her as the daughter he never had. There's got to be more than that. Something to consider was his fair equality such that if he did one thing for her, he would also do something for John as well. Which he didn't.

Unless this time, someone told him to and that someone was his son.

When she came to this realization she could not figure out why, though. Why was she so special in the Barrington's eyes? Anyone would beg for attention from this family, the wealthiest family in the country, the family that donated special projects to the Queen and funded enough capital to develop two new types of missiles for the military. Who was she to deserve this? She's only a maid in the household. She didn't ask for it and she didn't want it.

And now that Lucas wanted to marry her? The idea was too absurd to even take him seriously. There are tons of other suitable women out there with equivalent social status and wealth. She's pretty sure he's even got an arranged fiance somewhere, ready to appear at any moment.

Abigail folded the blueprint along its original creases and stuffed it back in the same spot. The life she wanted was a secluded simple life that the Barringtons couldn't give her. A small town where she would grow her own vegetables and open a flower shop on the corner. She would volunteer at the town center and go swimming in the ocean. Occasionally, she would tread through the parks on long hikes. It sounded like someone else's life, but it was what she wanted.

She found Lucas in the last place she thought he would be. He never looked the type to be in sweats and t-shirts, and he rarely wears them anyways. However, he had to given that he's in the gym and he looked marvelous in them. It's also probably why he stayed in impeccable shape.

As much as his busy schedule would allow, he would free whatever time he had to work out some stress. His muscle tones were visible through the shirt that hugged him, especially his thick biceps and abdomen.

There were three people in the gym. Two she recognized, one she didn't.

Lucas and Asher were boxing on the padded flooring that was made for sparring. They were both damped in sweat and panting but their fists weren't slowing down. Asher jabbed and Lucas blocked, but he would return the favor with a snarl and even attack.

"Getting tired yet?" Asher uttered with a knee kick.

"Not until I smash that face," Lucas panted.

"You're gonna have to train a couple more years before you can do that."

Asher was more agile and quick on his reflexes. He was on defense, blocking all of Lucas's heavy punches that were a tad slower but if they land, the bones would break.

"Easy for you to say. While you spent ten years in the Navy learning combat, I was typing away behind a computer." Lucas carried out a series of kicks that were all blocked.

Asher smirked, but that just irked his opponent even more. The heated man threw a few more brutal consecutive blows to the head that caused him to cower into a low position but his arms were up to protect him.

Asher reminded him to conclude the session.

"I sense you're scared?"

"Says the person who hadn't landed a hit yet. Like I said, you need more training to--"

Just as he thought Lucas was going to execute his infamous right hook and he brought both his arms up to block, leaving his left side completely open, Lucas changed hands swiftly and punched a mean left squarely onto Asher's jaw.

Abigail gasped and that drew their attention away from the victory. She had little experience around violence and watched as Asher cracked his jaw back into place with a snap. She flinched just seeing his pain. Lucas turned around, his chest heaving and his eyes sizing her up. She was immediately anxious as soon as their eyes met.