by Fiona Miers
Chapter Eight
As James approached, Abigail’s heart soared and a strange knot formed in her stomach.
Despite the tightness, she couldn’t help but smile as James stared at her intently. “Good evening, Miss Abigail, Mrs. Roth. What a delight that you both could attend this evening.”
“Thank you for the invitation, my lord. It is truly an honour,” her mother said and smiled in gratitude.
James opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by another gentleman who could only be James’ brother. He had the same dark hair and eyes.
He turned to her. “Good evening, Miss Abigail. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, although I feel as though I already know you.”
Abigail briefly glanced at James but smiled back at the man she had to assume was the duke. “It is an honour to meet Your Grace.”
“Please, do address me as Charles. There is no place for formalities this evening.”
“Very well.” Abigail said stiffly, swallowing hard. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you,” Charles said with a nod and gracefully motioned to the dining table. “Ladies, do have a seat. Dinner will be served very shortly, and you can enjoy the orchestra while you dine.”
“How lovely,” her mother gushed.
They were escorted to their table by both Charles and James. Abigail thought she noticed a brief moment shared between the brothers, but she couldn’t be certain. Their expressions as well the choice of words Charles used, gave her the impression that James had spoken to his brother about her, and much more than briefly mentioning he wished to invite her this evening.
Her heart fell. It was logical that James had mentioned her, as it was Charles’ home. But there was also a glint in both brothers’ eyes that suggested a deeper conversation. One that would not bode well for her.
She decided to shift those thoughts to the back of her mind and enjoy the evening.
“Abigail?”
Abigail grinned as she recognised the cheerful voice behind her. Her very good friend, Julia Gould approached her with open arms.
“Julia,” Abigail said as she stood up and embraced her friend. “What in heaven’s name are you doing here?”
“As a neighbour to the duke, I simply cannot be overlooked,” Julia said with a giggle, which in turn made Abigail smile.
The presence of her friend made Abigail feel at ease and now she hoped to enjoy the occasion more than she had anticipated. It had troubled her to think she would be surrounded by the Duke’s aristocratic friends but knowing that Julia was here made it much easier to breathe.
Even if she was seated directly next to James.
The orchestra was truly delightful, and the dinner consisted of a creamy soup, salad filled with colourful fresh vegetables, roasted duck, and creamy potatoes. It was the most delicious and decadent meal Abigail had ever tasted.
“Abigail,” James said as the maidservants began to clear the plates and cutlery from the table after the meal. He leaned in closer to her. “I wasn’t aware you and Miss Julia knew one another.”
Abigail smiled and glanced at Julia, who was in a rather spirited conversation with Emma, and nodded. “Indeed. I met her a few weeks ago and she has been one of the few people I decided to immediately trust. It is a strange feeling to explain but she has become my confidant. Only we cannot see one another every day, as she accompanies her great-aunt mostly.”
“Indeed. She is a lovely young woman.”
Abigail nodded in agreement and looked into James’s eyes.
James’s brow raised slightly and he cocked his head. “You should not stare so intently into a man’s eyes, Abigail, especially not with eyes as hypnotizing as yours. The consequences may be dire.”
“Is that so?” Her tone had a hint of amusement, but she struggled to smile at his teasing.
She was, indeed, attracted to James, as he was a very handsome man. And as he leaned in close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her face, her stomach clenched, and her breath caught in her throat.
Throughout the evening thus far, he had been very attentive, and he seemed to have a genuine interest in her. Of course, Abigail found the encouraging glances from his brothers directed to him to be rather adorable.
Amazingly, she also felt comfortable in his presence. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.
This was important. She’d been through a lifetime of discomfort. All she wished was to feel at ease with herself, and James made her feel exactly that, along with a few more emotions she had promised herself she would never feel again.
James was precisely the kind of man whom she was able to imagine sharing a future with, and that feeling only grew with every moment she spent with him. Sadly, that made for a tragic end, as it made her future seem bleaker. Abigail couldn’t leave her mother while her family’s financial situation was so uncertain.
There would be no one to care for Mrs. Roth, and she would not be able to live with herself if something were to happen if she abandoned her mother for a man.
Abigail pressed her lips together as she realized how foolish she was being. She had allowed herself to think too far into the future, already thinking that James loved her and would ask her to be his wife.
Which was utterly ridiculous.
“Would you care to dance, Abigail?” James asked.
Abigail nodded slowly. “I would love to.”
James flashed a brilliant smile at her and they strolled to the dance floor. Abigail placed her hand in James’ and rested her other arm on his shoulders.
The orchestra continued to play a peaceful melody, caressing Abigail’s soul. She sighed and gazed at James.
“This song is beautiful,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“It is one of my favourites as well. It certainly beats the sound of cannonball fire and rifle shots,” James said nonchalantly.
“I beg your pardon?” Abigail asked, her mouth falling open. She had no idea James had been a soldier.
“My apologies. I was merely stating that the music is a pleasant change from...”
“From what? Battle?”
James stared at her, not speaking.
She sighed softly. “You were in the war against Napoleon?”
“Indeed,” James said.
“How long?”
“Six years.”
Oh, my... “That is a long time. Especially to be away from the people whom you care for.” His brothers. His family.
“Time is a warped perception, especially when days and nights fade into one.”
Abigail frowned as she noticed the sadness in his eyes, still raw with the trauma that had no doubt followed him home. “I did not realise you are soldier.”
“I was. I no longer am. I served for six years, and it was... enough. I am grateful to be alive and unscathed.”
“Are you really? Unscathed, that is?” Abigail asked and cocked her head.
She stared at him intently, knowing he was guarding his true feelings of terror from his time at war. He was a strong and proud man, and he would not allow her to see him vulnerable.
Or perhaps not yet.
“Let us not discuss these things at such a delightful soiree and enjoy the evening instead.”
As expected, James managed to change the topic of conversation in an attempt to distract Abigail. Which she’d allow... for the moment.
James spun her around the dance floor with grace and enthusiasm, and Abigail relished in the undivided attention she was receiving from him. She allowed herself to enjoy the evening, and not dwell on the possibility that James did not perceive her as worthy of his affections, or that there was a need to abandon her mother. She simply enjoyed the evening with James.
Abigail did, however, notice that James held back during certain moments and she could understand why. James had seen and experienced things that she could neither comprehend, nor imagine. She didn’t pester him or question him about it.
She would allow him t
he space to speak of it on his own accord, without her asking about it.
As the gathering neared the end of the festivities, Abigail’s mother approached her, saying that she was tired and wished to return to their townhouse.
“Of course, Mother,” Abigail said.
They thanked the duke and duchess for a wonderful evening and Abigail noticed James follow closely behind them as she and her mother prepared to leave.
Her mother, who would not allow her fatigue to stand in the way of socialising, approached another older woman and immediately struck up a conversation.
Abigail sighed. They might be there another hour longer.
A warm hand brushed her shoulder and she turned, gazing up into James’ eyes.
“Before you leave, there is something I must give you,” James said, his baritone voice sending shivers through Abigail’s body. “This way.”
Her heart pounded in her chest as he pulled her aside, dizzied by his closeness. What would she do if he attempted to kiss her?
Did she want him to kiss her?
James reached inside the pocket of his dress jacket and retrieved a folded letter. He handed it to her, and she unfolded it with a furrowed brow.
“What is it?” she asked, breathlessly.
“It is an approved subscription to the Assembly Rooms. It admits you to all the exclusive functions in Weymouth, hosted by the noblest of people.”
“And you wish to give me this?” she asked.
“I truly cannot think of a better suited person to bestow this upon, Abigail,” James said.
A smile formed on her lips. “Thank you, James. This means the world to me.”
James inclined his head. “I had a wonderful evening, and I do hope we can have another, to be honest.”
“I would like that very much as well,” Abigail said, feeling guilty for being untruthful.
In a manner of speaking, Abigail wished to spend as much time with James as possible, but in doing so, she risked falling in love.
And the risk came from the fact that James may or may not feel the same way.
On the one hand, she could marry James and be happy, but her mother would be abandoned and left to her own devices. Or she could choose to stay with her mother and care for her but give up on a future that could possibly involve James.
“There is also something I wish to ask you, Abigail.”
Abigail bit her bottom lip and waited for him to speak once more.
“There is an evening of poetry reading at the Assembly Rooms in a few evenings’ time. Despite my adoration of poetry, it would be much more delightful if you were to join me.”
“A poetry reading?”
“Does that surprise you?” he asked.
She smiled, happiness fluttering like a butterfly in her belly. “It does, but it is refreshing to meet a man of such diverse interests.”
“I will take that as a compliment.”
A sigh emerged from her throat. “As much as I would love to, regrettably I cannot. Even the subscription is too much. I cannot accept it.” She held out the letter for him to take back.
“Why not? Is it something I said?” James frowned, his lips thinning as he pressed them together.
“Is everything all right, Abigail?” her mother asked suddenly.
“James and I are just talking,” Abigail said.
“Is that an approved subscription?” Mrs. Roth asked and motioned to the letter in Abigail’s hand.
Abigail bit her lip. Darn it. Her mother would not hand it back the way she wanted to.
James grinned. “Indeed, it is. I wish to bestow it upon Abigail, as well as invite her to join me at the Assembly Rooms for a poetry reading. But she declined.”
“Don’t be silly, Abigail,” her mother said and turned to James. “Nothing would mean more to her than to accept. You have such a generous heart.”
James looked expectantly at Abigail, whose cheeks flushed with heat.
She forced herself to say what was expected. “Forgive me for declining. I was merely concerned for my mother’s health.”
“If it pleases you and Mrs. Roth, I can arrange a companion to care for your mother while you join me at the social events. Those she does not feel up to attending herself, of course.”
“That is wonderful, James. Thank you,” Mrs. Roth said.
“Indeed. Thank you for being so generous,” Abigail said, truly grateful.
“Very well. I will send for a footman to deliver the specifics of the poetry reading to your townhouse,” James said.
Abigail nodded gratefully and followed her mother down the hallway towards the large wooden doors that led to the outside where their carriage awaited.
“Mother, there was no reason for you to interject,” Abigail said with an annoyed tone in her voice.
“And there was no reason to lie and use me as an excuse so that you didn’t have a man such as James accompany you for the off-season. I may be in failing health, but I will not allow you to jeopardise any chance of being happy.”
“My happiness and your happiness are not the same thing,” Abigail said firmly. “I do have a choice in the matter.”
“You did the first time. This time, you might need help.”
Abigail’s jaw dropped and she watched her mother march away.
Chapter Nine
James drew in a deep breath as he placed the book of poetry on the bookshelf in his bedchamber and ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe that he’d successfully invited Abigail to accompany him to a poetry reading at the Assembly Rooms that evening. Despite not being as much of a poetry enthusiast as he’d claimed to be, her company would certainly make it more bearable.
James shook his head. Perhaps he was not equipped to court a woman as intelligent and witty as Abigail. He was used to women falling at his feet, prepared to do his bidding at the drop of a hat. Abigail was different. She did not swoon as the other young women did while in his presence.
Was it the resentment he felt within himself after he was dismissed from service that now made him feel worthless? Or perhaps the accomplishments of his older brother made him feel inadequate.
“I most certainly did not think you were a poetry enthusiast, brother.”
Thomas’ amused voice sounded behind him and he turned on his heel. The smug smile on his brother’s face made him roll his eyes and he stepped away from the bookshelf.
“War has certainly changed you.” Thomas smirked.
“Now is not the time, Thomas. I felt anxious enough already before your comment. And, of course, war changed me. Would it not change any man?”
“I merely meant it as a joke.”
“It was not very humorous.”
Thomas nodded sharply, his normally curved lips pulled down into a frown. “Pardon my insensitivity, brother. It simply struck me as odd that you would choose a poetry reading as the first evening you will spend alone with the young lady.”
“It was the earliest event of the off-season. I wish to see her as soon as it is possible,” James admitted.
“You truly do not mind listening to an evening of poetry?” Thomas asked.
“Not as long as she is beside me.”
Thomas narrowed his eyes momentarily and shifted his weight. “You have grown fond of her in a short period of time. The soiree at the estate was the first evening, and you gave her an access to every social event at the Assembly Rooms. You have never done such a thing for any woman.”
James ran a hand through his hair, ready to admit aloud that he was indeed, acting out of character. “My pursuit of Abigail is... unexpected. She is unlike any woman I have ever met. She does not swoon openly in my presence and she has her own manner of thinking, which is rather refreshing.”
“Such as?”
“I can converse with her comfortably and, although there is the occasional moment when I feel anxious, our conversations have meaning. It is not the same mindless chatter of money and status, and how large my—”
“Spare me,” Thomas interjected.
James narrowed his gaze at his younger brother. “I was going to say estate. Your mind requires a scrubbing.”
Thomas snickered and cocked his head. “Perhaps it is because she has no status? Her father had no title. Her uncle is an earl, but that is how far the lineage goes. Perhaps status and money don’t matter to her? Believe it or not, women such as she do exist. They are simply rare, especially in Weymouth.”
“She certainly is very different from the women I have known.”
“And in a startling turn of events, it did not scare her away when she saw you naked,” Thomas said with a chuckle.
“I suggest you leave me be, brother,” James said and rolled his eyes.
“Allow me to assist. You are not dressed appropriately for a poetry reading,” Thomas said and approached James’s dresser.
“Very well,” James said.
James watched helplessly, as his brother moved about his bedchambers, choosing the perfect combination of attire for the evening.
Within the hour, James was attired in a delightful ensemble chosen by Thomas, and he had to admit, he didn’t look terrible.
Thomas stepped back and smiled. “I have done what I can, now you may shine, brother.”
James shook his head, but his heart was full. “You are much too theatrical for your own good, brother, but thank you for your trouble.”
“It is no trouble at all. Now go sweep that lovely young woman off her feet.”
JAMES SAT IN THE COACH and glanced at Abigail, who sat opposite him. She was dressed in a lovely deep green dress with capped sleeves and her dark hair was pinned at the nape of her neck. Soft, wavy tendrils swept her face on both sides, and her skin glowed in the light of the sunset, shining in through the window.
“I have been looking forward to this evening, James. My mother as well, although she was not the one who was invited. Her enthusiasm is quite intense,” Abigail said with a wry smile.
“I noticed that. She is a very spirited woman when it comes to you.”
Abigail nodded and a smile formed on her lips. “Indeed. I am the last of her daughters who still lives with her. I do feel responsible in caring for my mother, especially since my father passed. It has been difficult.”