by Fiona Miers
He wished to speak of the proposition he had thought of in order to assist her in rebuilding her reputation, but all his words and thoughts and intentions went awry as soon as she gazed at him, her bright eyes sparkling in the sunlight. The flush was still visible on her cheeks, and James could not risk an adverse reaction to his proposal.
He sighed inwardly at his derailed plans. “I was hoping you would agree to accompany me to the theatre tomorrow evening.”
“To the theatre?”
“Indeed.”
“You enjoy the theatre?” she asked with a giggle.
“As much as anyone, I suppose.”
“I do not believe that,” she said, her smile getting even bigger.
“Do I need to find an excuse to spend time with you, Abigail?”
“You most certainly do not. I wish for you to do so of your own free will and not because you feel guilty for hurting my feelings,” she said.
“I do feel guilty for how I behaved at the estate. It was not fair to you. But I am not inviting you to the theatre out of guilt. I enjoy your company very much. You understand me better than almost anyone. I do not comprehend why, or how that is possible. No woman has ever understood me. Not... the real me.”
She smiled at him, meeting his gaze with a strength that took his breath away. “I only understand because I have been through my own war, as you said. Also, the other women did not take the time to look into your soul. From what I have heard, they were much more interested in your body than your mind and your heart, and you embraced their fascination.”
“Julia spoke of these things?” He could barely believe that women conversed of such things.
She shrugged. “It is only what she heard. It is not her fault those tales hold any truth to them.”
“It is certainly not something I am proud of.”
“Are you merely saying these things to appease me, or because they are truthful?”
James halted abruptly and turned to Abigail, who also stopped by his side. He placed his hand on her shoulder and looked at her intently. “I would never say anything to you that is not true. That, I vow to you.”
“You do not need to vow anything to me, James, but I do appreciate the sentiment.”
“I merely wish for you to trust me. I am not the man I used to be. I have not been that man for a very long time.”
Abigail cocked her head at him, and the gentle breeze blew a lock of dark hair onto her face. James reached up and tucked the lock behind her ear, his gaze still intently focused on her.
“I accept your invitation,” Abigail said breathlessly. “To the theatre. It sounds delightful.”
A smile formed on James’ lips, and for a moment the troubling thoughts that constantly whirled inside his mind vanished.
James returned Abigail to her home and was on his way back to his brother’s estate when the reality of the situation came rushing back.
At his core, James knew that Abigail was not the kind of woman who would wish to entertain him only during the summer. The longing in her eyes and the tragic tale of how she was left humiliated and heartbroken were the truth of her plight. Her past had left her craving something real and pure.
Pure was not something James would ever be able to give her. He couldn’t even care for himself and his own well-being.
Nurturing another person, especially someone as delightful as Abigail, was beyond his reach. Despite enjoying her company, he realised with sadness that he simply couldn’t promise her anything beyond the summer.
Chapter Sixteen
Abigail drew in a deep breath as she stood in front of the large mirror. It was encased in a wooden frame with intricately carved leaves and roses. It was her favourite item in her entire bedchambers, as her father had carved it with his own hands. She cherished it and would love it for many years to come.
Although she had agreed to accompany James to the theatre, she was secretly terrified to be seen in such a public setting with him. She had tried to convince herself that James had noble intentions towards her, but she still feared he would break her heart. After what she had heard in the details Julia had told her about James’s rakish behaviour in the past, she had been fearful to meet with him again. She was curious as to how he would behave around her, and how he would explain himself.
He had opened up to her about his time in the service and the horrors he had witnessed while in France, which meant a great deal to her. She had never anticipated he would share those details with her, and it made her feel as though she truly mattered to him.
She wished to learn more about him, the handsome and charming young man who had entered her life in the most unexpected and unforgettable manner. However, she also feared that James’ reciprocated feelings would never match her own.
She was no stranger to disappointment and experiencing people in her life who were not at all what they appeared to be. Despite all the warnings inside her head, she couldn’t refuse James’ invitation to the theatre.
Of course, Mrs. Roth was more than delighted when she had returned from the promenade with James and announced that she had agreed to accompany him. Her mother had often reminisced of the times when her father had taken her to the theatre.
Abigail’s heart ached as her mother spoke of her father, and although they had been heartwarming tales, she could not help but be saddened by the void in her heart.
Now she stood in front of the mirror as Dotty brushed and pinned her hair into an elegant style at the nape of her neck.
“You seem distracted,” Dotty said quietly.
Abigail nodded and pouted her lips. “It is rather obvious, is it not?”
“Are you anxious for this evening?”
“Not in the least. I simply have much on my mind.”
“I am certain you and Lord James will have a delightful evening. The theatre is wonderful, and the young lord also seems lovely.”
“He is,” Abigail said reluctantly, wringing her hands together.
“You do not seem too convinced, Miss.”
Abigail turned to Dotty and sighed. “He is lovely. There are simply things from his past that have been brought to my attention and I am not certain whether I am pleased about it.”
“Everyone has a past, Miss. Even you.”
Abigail cocked her head at Dotty, surprised by the forwardness of the maid. But she was not offended by her words, they were certainly the truth. And probably what she needed to hear.
She was certain James would not have been pleased when she spoke of the scandal in which she had been embroiled thanks to Timothy.
A thought suddenly occurred to her. Perhaps that was the reason why James had been distant after they returned from the folly? Had her past been enough to disrupt his idea of her?
She shook her head. Perhaps she had been too harsh and quick to judge him. She smiled at her maid. “You are right, Dotty. Everyone has a past.”
“But it is not the past that matters. It is the present.”
“Is that what you think, Dotty?”
“I do not think it, I believe it. The past is behind us, and no matter what we do, we cannot change it. It has already happened. The best thing to do is to ensure that you do not regret the actions and decisions you make in the present.”
“Thank you, Dotty. That certainly makes me feel more at ease.”
“I am glad to hear that.” Dotty stepped away from her and smiled. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Dotty.”
A knock sounded from the front door and Abigail looked at Dotty, panic fluttering in her chest like a trapped canary. “That must be him.”
Dotty took her hands and squeezed them like an old friend. “It will be a wonderful evening. Do not fret over things you cannot control.”
Dotty released her hands and Abigail smoothed down the skirts of her dress.
“You are right, Dotty. What is meant to happen, will indeed happen.”
“Precisely.”
Abigail nodded a
nd tried to convince herself that this was, in fact, true.
IT WAS ONLY WHEN THE coach reached the theatre that Abigail began to relax. Her shoulders eased as she climbed out of the vehicle, holding on to James’ hand as tightly as she dared.
He had been attentive to her during the ride to the theatre and engaged in light conversation the entire journey. She couldn’t fault him, and yet her stomach was twisted into knots at the prospect of the evening ahead.
She stared up at the large building before her and drew in a strained breath. The promenade had been a very public appearance with James, but she now realised that accompanying him to the theatre was even more so. She was not merely a stranger passing by, she would be forced to actively converse and engage with other theatre goers.
“Are you well, Abigail?” James asked.
She turned her attention to him. “I feel rather overwhelmed. I have not been to the theatre in Weymouth prior to this evening.”
James smiled kindly, “I am told it is quite delightful.”
“This is your first time to Weymouth’s theatre?”
“Indeed.”
“And you wished to share the evening with me?” she said.
James inclined his head. “There is no one I would rather spend the evening beside.”
A smile appeared on her lips and her heart fluttered in her chest. Not only did she feel assured by his words, but she hoped that if society saw James and her behaving with propriety at the public event, perhaps the rumours about them would quiet down.
Perhaps the gossipers would realise that their courtship would amount to something. Marriage, perhaps? But Abigail didn’t want to conjure scenarios in her own mind that wouldn’t happen.
However, she could not help but believe that James was truly interested in courting her, or else he would not say such kind and attentive things.
“Abigail!” a familiar voice called out from the scattered crowd.
Abigail smiled happily as Julia approached and she embraced her friend. “Julia, it is good to see you.”
“Indeed, my dearest friend,” Julia said with a smile and glanced at James. “And you, Lord Melton.”
“Good evening, Miss Julia. Lovely to see you as well.”
Julia pursed her lips and Abigail noticed the hint of discord in the air between them. Of course, this was probably due to James’ knowledge of her and Julia’s conversation regarding his past behaviour. And in turn, Julia’s concern for her.
“Shall we find our seats?” Abigail asked and gazed at James, who politely smiled at her with a nod.
“Certainly,” he said.
James shifted his elbow towards Abigail, and she slid her arm through the loop his arm formed. She rested her hand on his forearm and he led her inside the theatre.
The seats were comfortable and near the stage and Abigail could barely breathe from the excitement. She was looking forward to the show, but it was the fact that she would be sitting beside James that made her heart pound.
That same gentleman who subtly placed his hand on the armrest of the chair, the sleeve of his jacket lightly touching her arm throughout the whole first act.
During intermission, James excused himself to have a word with an acquaintance, and Abigail turned to Julia.
“I am surprised he is making such an effort this evening,” Julia said with a scoff.
“He apologised for how he treated me at the estate and I accepted his apology. It is in the past and there is no need to drudge it up again,” Abigail said.
“Speaking of the past, have you forgotten what I told you? London is filled with young women who entertained him, whom he discarded when they had served their purpose. What is not to say that he wishes to add you to that list of accomplishments?”
“He would not do such a thing,” Abigail said, attempting to sound confident.
More than anything, she wanted it to be true.
She narrowed her eyes at Julia. “And how would you know that?” Was it possible her friend was on that supposed “list” and was therefore speaking from experience and perhaps, spiteful envy?
When Julia didn’t say anything, Abigail went on, “James is a good man and has been kind to me, for the most part. He carries dark burdens in his heart due to his experiences in France. He admitted to his rakish behaviour when I asked him about it, and he regrets it.”
“Of course, he would say such a thing,” Julia said and shook her head in disapproval. “He would say anything that would make you jump into bed with him.”
“Julia!” A gasp escaped from Abigail’s mouth as she glanced around her, hoping no one had heard. “You cannot say such a thing.
“And why not? It is probably true.”
“No, it is not. I do not believe it to be true,” Abigail hissed at her friend. Why was Julia being so spiteful?
“Pardon me?” an unfamiliar voice spoke beside Abigail.
Abigail glanced over her shoulder at the young woman who stood beside her. “Yes?”
“My apologies for intruding on your conversation. I must ask, are you here with Lord James?” the young woman asked.
Abigail’s eyes narrowed and she nodded. “Indeed I am. Why do you ask?”
“I am well aware that it is none of my concern, but I do feel obligated to warn you.”
“Warn me of what?”
“Not of what. Of Lord James.”
Julia nudged her against the arm, but Abigail did not respond to her friend’s gesture. Instead, she kept her attention focused on the young woman beside her.
“What of Lord James?” Abigail asked.
“He might seem charming and kind and attentive, but do not allow that to fool you. Or his handsome good looks to captivate you and cloud your vision. It is a trick. He tricks women.”
“And how would you know that?” Abigail asked, her tone as sharp as the edge of a sword.
“He did it to me in London. He lured me in with his tales of woe. He spoke words to me that took my breath away. He made me feel important, as if I mattered to him more than anything.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “After I gave myself to him, he discarded me as though I were nothing, his powerful words carrying no depth.”
“And when did this happen?” Julia asked, while Abigail’s mouth ran dry.
“Before the start of summer. He had just returned from France, and he blamed his tormented state on his behaviour. Then he left for Weymouth.”
Abigail’s lips parted and her heart pounded painfully in her chest. No! Oh no.
“Please, be wary of him, is all I ask,” the pretty young woman said, then turned to step away.
Abigail grabbed her arm. “What is your name?”
“Lady Catherine, daughter of the Duke of York,” she said, lifting her chin with pride.
Abigail nodded and loosened her grasp on Catherine’s arm. “Thank you.” Her voice was merely a whisper, as the pain in her chest made it almost impossible to breathe.
He had deceived her, and he was still deceiving her, trying to convince her that she meant more to him than a casual affair.
Catherine left her side as quickly as she had approached.
“There you have it.” Julia said with a triumphant grin.
Julia was seated beside Abigail and although she continued to chatter, her voice sounded far away, as a ringing began to sound in Abigail’s ears. The room began to spin uncontrollably. She was horrified and appalled by her own naivety and stupidity.
She knew better than to believe she deserved love, especially from the son of a Duke.
It had happened to her again. As soon as she had let someone get close to her, sharing her heart and soul with him, her heart got broken and she was destroyed from the inside out.
Chapter Seventeen
Before the intermission, James had thought things had gone rather smoothly. Abigail responded well to his flattery and charm, and it pleased him very much. She had not moved her hand away when he’d accidentally brushed his fingers against hers, and he
had noticed her gazing at him on more than one occasion.
James had grown optimistic that Abigail would agree to the proposition he wished to offer her, and the idea of having her as his mistress for the summer enthused him more than he wanted to admit aloud.
After intermission, however, things seemed very different. Abigail did not take notice of him. She did not speak to him, and she kept her distance from him during the entire second half of the play.
He had no idea what the reason was for this sudden and drastic change in her behaviour. Julia’s hostility towards him had increased also, which did not make sense either. James was not oblivious to Julia’s knowledge of his past, but he didn’t think Julia would tell Abigail more than he thought she knew.
Would she?
It was, in fact, not her place to interfere and attempt to cause a rift between them.
James had spoken to Abigail regarding his past and he could not imagine a single thing that would cause Abigail to be upset with him. Not now.
When the play came to an end and they made their way back to his coach, James was going out of his mind from the silence that stretched between them. When he offered his hand to assist Abigail into the coach, she ignored him and climbed inside on her own.
James frowned as he entered the coach behind her and waited until it began to move before he spoke.
“Did I do something that upset you this evening?” he asked.
Abigail’s jaw clenched as she stared out the window of the coach, saying nothing.
“Please, tell me what I did wrong.”
Yet again, no response from Abigail.
“This is not very mature, Abigail.”
“Please do not speak to me regarding maturity,” Abigail answered snidely.
“I do not understand what you are upset about, Abigail.”
“Of course, you would not. You have no regard for any other person’s feelings but your own.”
He narrowed his eyes and forced himself to stay calm. He considered himself someone of good character. “If you could kindly inform me what caused you to be upset—”