“But…” Gertrude sputtered, looking positively aghast. “But when do you ever sleep?”
“We take different shifts,” Gavin explained. “And now Lieutenant Harris—you remember him from yesterday? He helps us throughout the day when it storms.”
“My goodness.” Gertrude turned white.
Abigail wondered if the woman was going to be sick. But then, white had to be better than the shade of green her face had taken on the day before.
“Myttin da,” greeted an elderly man near the ribbons. He wore a frayed gray cap that did nothing but accentuate the wrinkles covering every bit of his face.
Gertrude stared blankly at the cart owner before shaking away her surprise at his foreign tongue and smiling. “Do you, perhaps, have a lovely shade of Pomona?”
The man reached for a green ribbon hanging behind the others and extended it to Gertrude.
“Excellent. Thank you, sir.” She handed him two coins and led the group forward once more. “Oh, look here.”
She motioned toward The Golden Arms Inn, where a paper was nailed near the front door. The corners of the notice flapped up and down in the breeze.
As they approached, Gertrude read the words aloud. “A public assembly. How delightfully refreshing would it be to attend a quaint, country dance after the grand balls we hold at Clowey Hall? I’m certain the both of you were already planning to attend, though.”
Her light brown eyes searched the others with excitement, but Gavin shook his head. “No, we weren’t, actually.”
Abigail studied the paper as half a plan formulated in her mind.
Two days. Help with the lamps. Public assembly. Gavin would certainly be pleased.
“Oh. Yes.” Gertrude’s face fell. “I’m afraid I have forgotten already. You must watch over the lighthouse.”
But Abigail hardly heard, still mulling over the idea. She knew Gavin would have no problem paying the subscription, nor attending at all. Of course, she did not know many of the dances—she had no reason to. But it was not unheard of for a wife to sit out an entire assembly. And since dancing with one’s spouse was hardly customary, she would not wish to partner with anyone at all anyway.
She tried to convince herself that going to an assembly without dancing would be hardly worth the effort. But then…Gavin was worth the effort. And she would like to show him that she had changed, that she could attend a public gathering without leaving in an insecure and furious huff.
The memory of what had occurred during Abigail’s last social outing nearly prevented her from speaking at all. The Stedmans would most certainly attend the assembly. However, the gathering would be large enough that Abigail might not even cross their paths.
Besides, Gavin knew the truth about Mrs. Stedman now. And he would defend Abigail should anything adverse occur. Of that she was sure.
“What a pity,” Gertrude said. “I’m certain a bit of entertainment and country dancing would have ridden me of this headache for good.”
Abigail drew a deep breath and finally spoke up. “Perhaps…” She glanced to Gavin. “Perhaps we could attend. If the weather holds, Lieutenant Harris could watch over the lighthouse for a few hours. What do you think, Captain?”
Gavin’s eyes brightened, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “I think it a very fine idea.”
“Oh, do you really think so?” Gertrude placed a hand to her chest. “That would be delightful. I simply adore dancing.”
She spoke about her abilities with the pastime as she directed their small party farther down the street. Gavin held Abigail back as they walked slowly together.
“Are you ill?” he asked softly.
She laughed. “Why?”
“Because of what you just agreed to. Have you ever been to an assembly before?”
“No, but I always wished to.” She paused. “Do you not want to go?”
“No, no, I do. Very much so.”
“Good. Then I’m certain we shall enjoy ourselves.”
He brought her hand up to place a lingering kiss to her fingers. “You are full of surprises, Mrs. Kendricks. What other secrets have you yet to tell me?”
His eyes danced, but Abigail nearly tripped as the words jolted sense into her. Her mind scrambled for a response, but Lionel spoke over his shoulder, saving her from needing to reply.
A blush blazed across her face. Gavin’s words had struck far too close to the truth.
Secrets. Her life, her past, was inundated with secrets. Secrets that would drive a wedge between herself and Gavin, should he ever discover them.
She glanced up at him as he laughed at something his brother said. The cheerful sound and his easy smile strengthened her resolve. She could not allow their relationship to weaken. Not when they were so happy together. Not after everything they had overcome.
She would tell him. Just as soon as she found the courage to do so.
Chapter Twelve
Two days later, Gavin paced back and forth in the sitting room. He knew he would be ready for the assembly that evening long before Lionel and Gertrude would end their primping. But as Abigail had yet to emerge from her room, as well, his anxiousness increased.
Mrs. Honeysett and Poppy had already left after helping Abigail to dress. He couldn’t imagine what was still keeping her. He’d never known her to spend so much time on anything, especially fussing over her looks.
But perhaps it was his own impatience that was the issue. After all, he had been looking forward to the evening for days. He was thrilled when she’d first suggested going, and, admittedly, a little worried, if only for Abigail’s sake. The Stedmans would certainly be there. Even so, he was determined to be vigilant.
And if anything was said to his wife, the Stedmans could be sure that Gavin would be there to see the matter resolved.
“Gavin?”
He stopped pacing and looked to the doorway, but Abigail did not appear. “Yes?”
“Has Lieutenant Harris arrived yet?”
He left the room and peered down the hallway, seeing her door slightly open. Only the tip of her nose was visible from within the room.
“Yes,” he replied. “He is situated in the watch room, and the lamps have already been lit.”
“He knows to inform us should anything out of the ordinary happen?” she asked. “Even if it is another cat?”
“Yes. He is fully prepared.” Gavin struggled to regain his carefree state, setting aside his thoughts of Myles. He refused to dwell on the boy who, to his relief, had kept away from St. Just.
“Thank you,” Abigail said, and she pulled back within her room.
He waited for a moment, staring at the closed door before returning to the sitting room and resuming his pacing.
“Gavin?”
He paused again with amusement. “Yes?”
“Would you…” Her voice lowered. “Would you come here for a moment?”
“Of course.” He moved down the hallway and paused just outside of the slightly-opened door. He knocked. “Abigail?”
“Yes, come in.”
He entered the room. “Did you need…”
Words failed him. His feet rooted to the floor.
“Does this suit?” she asked, holding out the folds of her gown and twisting back and forth. She eyed the length, her lips twisted in displeasure.
Abigail stood tall and regal, her light green gown modestly accentuating her feminine form with delicate lace and flowing fabric. Cream slippers peeked out from her dress, and white gloves reached far up her slender arms. A golden ribbon was tied beneath her bodice and poured down her back.
Her auburn hair was twisted and curled to sit high upon the crown of her head. A few tendrils trailed down from her chignon and graced her temples, heightening the blue in her eyes and the light speckling of freckles across her cheeks and nose.
Gavin had always found Abigail attractive, but that evening? That evening, she made it difficult for him to breathe.
“I feel it is too much,�
�� she said with a scowl.
He closed the door behind him. “No, you look…perfect.”
“Honestly, Gavin,” she said, still eying the dress with disdain, “I need you to be serious. I fear it is too extravagant for a simple public assembly.”
The fact that she was unaware of her beauty made her even more attractive. “I am speaking honestly, Abigail. You are beautiful.”
“Are you quite certain?” she asked. She had yet to look at him. “Mrs. Follett assured me it was the latest fashion, but I cannot help but think she said so only to see more of your fortune fall into her hands.”
Gavin chuckled. “That may be so. But perhaps you think it too fine because you are comparing it to your work dresses.”
“Well, I would be a great deal more comfortable wearing one of those, I assure you.” She huffed, scratching at the lace on her shoulder. “Oh, this color simply does not suit me. I am sure of it. No, I ought to change. I cannot arrive—”
“Abigail?”
“—appearing to be someone I am not. My hair must be a sight, as well. I told Mrs. Honeysett to not make it so very grand. Oh, I cannot imagine why I have spent so long doing this when—”
“Abigail.”
“—it is all for naught. No, I shall not be attending the dance. Please, accept my apologies. I do feel a bit of an ache in my head. Perhaps the ocean is affecting me as it does Mrs. Kendricks. Yes, that is what has happened. I shall not—”
Gavin reached forth, placing his hands on either side of her face, and staring directly into her eyes. She stopped, blinking in stunned silence.
“Abigail,” he repeated softer, “you are stunning.”
Her blue eyes peered up at him, humility shining in their depths. He caressed her soft cheeks with his thumbs.
He had managed to control himself for weeks now, to discover if Abigail’s feelings for him had grown to love yet. He had noticed the way her eyes twinkled whenever they spoke, and the way she wistfully sighed as she stared at him. But mostly, he noticed how quickly and substantially his own willpower waned.
And now, in that moment, in her room—with her eyes framed with long, dark eyelashes and her neck long and gracefully curved as she looked up at him—he could no longer help himself. He had to kiss those pink and perfectly parted lips once more. He closed the distance between them, their lips a breath apart.
But the door next to their room opened, and his brother’s voice floated toward them as he traveled down the hallway.
With a great sigh and a considerable amount of restraint, Gavin slid his fingers from her face. He allowed them to trail down her shoulders and arms before holding her hands softly in his own. “I suppose we shouldn’t keep them.”
His desire to kiss Abigail strengthened as he noted her own disappointment on her face. And so he vowed that before the night was over, he would kiss his wife again.
And properly.
* * *
With every jostle of the carriage, Abigail drew closer to Gavin. Their shoulders touched, and his knee pressed against hers. Her heart skipped a beat with each beguiling look he sent in her direction, each furtive glance to her mouth.
He looked strapping, as usual, in his dark jacket and polished shoes. His dark green waistcoat complimented her own gown nicely, and his cravat made his jaw appear even stronger.
And his lips…she had been so close to kissing those lips again. But now was certainly not the time to dwell on such things. Not with his family seated right across from them.
She looked to Gertrude and Lionel and was surprised to see somber expressions from both of them.
“I’m afraid we have some very unpleasant news to share with the both of you,” Lionel said.
“Yes, we do,” Gertrude agreed. She waited until all eyes were upon her before continuing. “You see, this will be our last night with you at Golowduyn.”
Abigail pulled back in surprise. Their last night? But they were supposed to stay for weeks, weren’t they? Did that mean she would have her home and Gavin all to herself again? She tried to squelch her hope. After all, they could be teasing.
“I’m sure you are both wondering why we have chosen to cut our visit so short,” Gertrude continued. “Let me first assure you that it was not of your own doing. You both have made us feel so welcome. Indeed, we shall miss your lovely lighthouse. We merely leave because the waves of the sea have become too great for me to bear.”
So she did not jest. They were, in actuality, leaving. A rush of excitement overcame Abigail. She could hardly believe her fortune.
“We truly are sorry to leave you both so soon,” Lionel added. He sent an apologetic look in his brother’s direction.
Suddenly, shame washed over Abigail. She was so focused on her own comfort that she had not even considered how Gavin might feel about the news.
She glanced up at him but was surprised to find that his expression had not changed from before. He looked perfectly content and not the least bit surprised.
“Well, we certainly do not wish you to stay if you are suffering so greatly here,” he said. “But we will miss you. Will you return to Clowey Hall now or spend the remainder of your time in London?”
“No, we are to take the waters in Bath,” Gertrude said with a pained look, though Abigail was certain she caught a glimpse of excitement in the woman’s eyes. “My cousin, Mr. Quigley, has often requested our presence at his new lodging on the Royal Crescent. I sent a letter to him only this morning. I am certain he will be most accommodating.”
She carried on about the success she had often received by taking the waters, but Abigail listened only intermittently as she stared out of the coach window.
A flock of birds flew above the trees in the distance, no doubt headed for their homes, and the summer skies quickly darkened to reveal the first twinkling stars of the night. Everything about the peaceful scene should have calmed Abigail’s nerves, but instead of sighing with relaxation, she gripped the fan she held in her hands even tighter, trying to make sense of the range of emotions spinning within her.
Gavin must be upset at no longer seeing his brother, despite his outward, placid appearance. She was sure of it. Just as she was sure that she should not be feeling so happy about the same matter that caused him such distress.
The conflict within her grew as she considered the assembly next. She was more confident in her relationship with Gavin but still dreaded facing the Stedmans—and whoever else might think her unfit to be in attendance.
However, she, herself, had chosen to come to the assembly. No one had pressured her into it. And as Gavin’s wife, she had just as much right as anyone to attend.
Yet, when they reached St. Just, her resolve threatened to dissipate. The eyes of those filing into the inn focused on the Kendricks’s impressive carriage as they pulled to a stop. Their stately arrival was certainly not going to help Abigail, who had just decided to go about the evening as unnoticed as possible.
Gavin and Lionel exited first before helping their wives from the coach. Abigail ducked her head, avoiding the stares, though she could still hear the words around them.
“Such a fine coach.”
“Who are they, Mama?”
“Why, is that the lighthouse keeper?”
She grasped onto Gavin’s arm as he escorted her toward the line slowly filing into the inn.
“You must be pleased,” he said, leaning in close.
She struggled to make sense of his words. How could she be pleased with their ostentatious entrance and the talk that had already begun to sound around them?
“About my brother leaving,” he clarified.
“Oh, yes.” How could she have forgotten? “I mean, no. No, I am sorry to see them go, of course, for your sake.”
“Well, you needn’t worry about me.”
She looked up at him with her brows drawn. “Why ever not?”
Before he could explain, their turn had come to enter the inn. They passed through the large doors to the fa
r right of the establishment. Abigail looked around her, taking in the sights.
The room’s dark, wooden walls were lit by the shining chandeliers above. Flowers, arranged in arches, decorated the top of each doorway. Women spun in circles in the single dance set that lined the large hall, their finery and beaming faces flashing for all to take notice and admire.
Three musicians sat at the front of the room, playing their music as loudly as possible to be heard over the laughter, conversation, and cheering. Chairs and benches lined the edges of the room, filled to their occupancy with mothers gossiping with one another as they watched their dancing daughters.
Abigail’s stomach became a jumbled mess as she thought of being near the others and all their grandeur. She pulled out her fan and waved it beneath her chin, praying the cool air would calm her nerves.
However, when she noticed a few younger women standing nearby—daughters of local farmers and fishermen—enjoying themselves as they laughed and danced with their friends and companions, Abigail took comfort in knowing that she was not entirely out of place after all.
They entered a smaller room, adjoined with a simple archway and opened double-doors. Tables were set up with light refreshments, and the occupants gathered in small groups to speak above the sound of the lively music.
The four Kendrickses paused near the entryway. From her vantage point, Abigail could see another room beyond, filled with heavy smoke and dim lighting—the card room. She shuffled her feet to face another direction. She did not wish to see the men inside with their glassy eyes and worried brows. It reminded her too much of how her uncle might have appeared when he’d lost all of their money.
Soon, a small group gathered around them, and Gavin introduced his brother and sister-in-law to Mr. Rennalls, the Summerfields, and the Biddles.
Those in the group fairly fawned over Gertrude in all her grace and elegance. Abigail wondered if that was the reason the woman had wanted to attend the assembly in the first place.
Abigail could not blame her, nor was she unhappy with the attention Gertrude did receive. For any attention that was on Gertrude, was attention that was off of Abigail. And that was certainly something to be happy about.
Behind The Light 0f Golowduyn (A Cornish Romance Book 1) Page 23