by Dawn Brower
“That is also true,” George conceded. His tone less skeptical than it had been before. “But if you go, if you stay longer than you normally do they’ll stop being the well trained animals you’ve turned them into.”
Unfortunately his friend was correct. He’d have to go, seek out Lady Abigail, and then leave as fast as possible afterward. It was the only way to keep the reputation he’d carefully crafted intact. “I realize that. It’s why I wasn’t sure if I’d go. I’m not sure I can keep with my normal activities if I do.”
“Would you like me to attend with you?” He leaned closer to the desk as he spoke. “They’ve come to expect you following behind me. It might make it easier for you to attend.”
George would take the sting of his attendance off. They’d just assume he was with the Earl of Harrington and not question it. If he went alone he’d raise quite a few eyebrows. “You don’t mind?”
“No,” his friend answered. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you. Though I do expect you to explain what you’re really doing at some point. This definitely isn’t out of boredom, and restlessness has never driven you to attend proper social functions.”
His friend knew him too well. “When I’m ready to discuss it you’ll be the first person I come to.”
“Good,” George said and then smiled. “We’ll take my carriage. Let’s start this journey to the garden party.”
With that Charles and George both stood and exited the townhouse. It wasn’t a far jaunt, but it would still take an hour to exit the city and then arrive at the manor house. It would be better to get on their way.
***
The Duchess of Breckenridge’s garden party was a complete crush. Everyone the duchess had invited had apparently decided to attend. The only good thing about it was that the entire event was held outdoors. Otherwise Abigail would have felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She really wanted to go home. If only she could get her father to agree… Instead of dwelling on something she couldn’t change she decided to explore the area around the duck pond. There was a gazebo near it that she could take some respite in. So far not many guests ventured away from the gardens to explore beyond them. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak away and be alone.
She took slow measured steps so that no one took notice of her. It had been her experience that rushing away made a person stand out. Abigail had managed to slip away many times because she was ignored by everyone around her and didn’t act rashly. Though some might say going off alone was foolish behavior in itself. She couldn’t make herself care though. No gentleman wanted to court her and she was all right with that. Her sister could have all of their attention and hopefully Belinda would pick one to marry. At the end of the season Abigail would return to Scotland and accept her fate as a spinster. She liked books more than people anyway.
Finally she reached the gazebo and stepped inside. She leaned over the edge and stared at the pond. Several ducks swam across it and honked happily as they went around in circles. What must it be like to be a duck? They didn’t seem to have a care in the world. They were happy in their watery environment and content to squawk at each other as they swam. Maybe she’d walk a little closer to the pond and get a closer view of them.
A male stepped behind her and asked, “What do you find so interesting.”
Abigail nearly jumped out of her own skin at the sound of Lord Coventry’s voice. He was so close she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck. What was he doing at the duchess’s garden party? Didn’t he avoid these sorts of events? She’d counted on him not attending any of them. The theater had been different. It wasn’t an event that was swarming with debutantes in search of a husband. “What dae ye want?”
“You wound me,” he replied and held his hand over his heart. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“I’m not certain what gave ye that impression,” she retorted. “Encouraging bad behavior on yer part was never something I wished to do.”
He chuckled lightly. “But that’s the best kind of behavior and I think you actually like it.”
She crinkled her nose. Abigail didn’t know how to answer him. He was being difficult on purpose. “I assure ye I’m always proper.” Well that might not be true, but she wouldn’t admit it aloud. He could think of her what he wanted to. She wasn’t concerned he believed her a bit of a hellion. The truth was that she did act imprudently more often than she should. Otherwise she wouldn’t have found herself alone with one of the ton’s biggest rogues several times now.
He lifted a brow mockingly. “Darling,” he began. “I’m not sure you comprehend the meaning of the word proper.” Lord Coventry leaned even closer and whispered in her ear, “But I rather like you this way so don’t change a thing.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled, then exhaled slowly. His closeness played havoc on her emotions. Why did she have to like him so much? Instead of answering him she stepped away from him and out of the gazebo. She headed toward the pond to watch the ducks there. If he happened to follow she wouldn’t feel so confined.
He whistled as he followed behind her. She was grateful for the sound echoing behind her. It was as if he wanted her to be aware of the progress he made. Each step that brought him closer to her made her heart beat even more heavily inside of her chest.
She stopped at the edge of the pond and tried her best to disregard Lord Coventry’s presence. It was silly of her to even try. There was no ignoring a man like him. He stopped beside her. “Do you like ducks Lady Abigail?”
“I dinna mind them,” she answered
“It’s ironic,” he said. “That I had a conversation about ducks before I came here today.”
She turned to face him and said. “Oh? Why?” Why would a man such as him discuss ducks with anyone? It seemed like and odd topic of conversation.
“It wasn’t about ducks exactly, more of a comparison.” He grinned. “The why doesn’t matter. It just struck me as funny.”
He stepped closer and she took a step back on reflex and lost her balance. Her arms flailed in the air as she tried to stay upright. Lord Coventry reached for her but it was too late. Abigail fell backward and straight into the shallow end of the pond. Her skirts were soaked through and water had splashed upward drenching her bodice and some strands of her hair. This was just her luck…
“Let me help you,” he insisted, but she didn’t want his assistance.
She pushed him away and then he fell in beside her. Abigail glanced at earl. His fine tailored jacket and breeches were soaked through. They were a fine pair. She could either cry or laugh, she chose the latter. Her chuckles echoed around her and Lord Coventry smiled down at her. He laughed too, and it was then she realized how truly dangerous he was to her. This man could be the one male that could tempt her to fall in love. Her smile faltered, and so did his. He leaned down his lips so close to hers. The earl was going to kiss her… Should she stop him?
She decided not to. When would she have a chance to kiss a gentleman again, and she liked the idea of him being her first… His lips were warm and feather light. Almost as if they hadn’t touched hers at all… Heat spread through her and she wanted to ask him to kiss her again, but she never got the chance. A duck swam behind them and let out a loud squawk.
“I suppose we should find someplace to dry off.” His voice was husky as he spoke.
She nodded. “There will be gossip…”
“Let them talk,” he said. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”
Abigail chewed on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to ruin her sister’s chances at a good match. “But…”
“Don’t worry, my lady,” he said. “It will be all right. I promise.”
She didn’t want to think about it too long. Abigail wanted to believe him, so she chose to. If he said everything would be fine, then it would be. He stood and held out his hand to her. She placed her hand in his and he assisted her to her feet. They walked in silence back to the manor and the rest of the afternoon went b
y in a blur. Abigail was oblivious to the gossip around her and she did as he suggested. She put her faith in him and prayed that she wouldn’t regret it.
Chapter 7
The dip Abigail had unwittingly taken in the pond at the Duchess of Breckenridge’s garden party was not so easily forgotten as Lord Coventry thought it would be. Whispers followed her everywhere she went. They weren’t exactly being covert in their discussions either. Most of them thought her the worst sort of lady and believed she was throwing herself at the earl. None of them could discern a reason why Lord Coventry could have been anywhere near that pond unless she’d lured him there. Surely she was scheming to trap the poor earl in marriage.
She snorted at that one. Lord Coventry was not a hapless fool and they were all being utterly ridiculous in their assumptions. Unfortunately, nothing she said would distract them from their way of perceiving the situation. Abigail was all but ruined because of that encounter. She didn’t care for herself, but her sister didn’t deserve to be ostracized. Damn Lord Coventry and his interest in her—why couldn’t he have ignored her like he did other ladies?
She wanted to lean against the wall and close her eyes. To pretend, even for a few precious seconds, that the entire ton was not discussing her and what happened at the garden party, but that would be futile. In addition, it would just give the tongues in the room something else to wag about. Gossip was what made the wheels keep turning. Most of the members of the ton didn’t have anything better to do and she’d given them more than enough to discuss for days to come.
The chatter came to a standstill and it the silence was almost deafening. What could have made them all stop? She turned her gaze to the entrance and fought the smile that was threatening to fill her face. Abigail should not be so happy to see Lord Coventry. He was even alone this time. Was his friend, the Earl of Harrington, unavailable to attend the ball this time? He stood at the top of the stairs that led into the ballroom and glanced around the room. Was he looking for her or someone else? Her heart skipped a beat. Abigail wanted him to be searching for her. She’d grown to anticipate his attention and enjoyed being with him.
He stopped, and glanced in her direction. Their gazes locked and his lips turned upward into a roguish smile. Her own lips tilted upward almost on their own accord. She certainly didn’t smile back at him with any sense of purpose. Abigail was truly ecstatic to see him. He skipped down the stairs and pushed his way through the crown and made a beeline toward her. When he reached her he bowed slightly, then held out his hand to her. “My lady,” he greeted her. That sinful smile still graced his handsome face. “May I have this dance?”
The strands of a waltz echoed through the ballroom. Other couples were already starting to fill the floor. Outside of her dance lessons she’d never actually danced the waltz with a gentleman. She nibbled on her bottom lip indecisively. She did want to dance—with him, and only him, but she was also suddenly nervous. What if she stepped on his toes or something equally embarrassing? Abigail didn’t want to appear incapable of anything in Lord Coventry’s company. Almost reluctantly she raised her hand and offered it to him. “It would be my pleasure, Lord Coventry.”
He took her proffered hand and placed it in the crook of his arm and escorted her to the dance floor. Once they were in position he lead her through the dance with ease. Luckily, she hadn’t stepped on his toes—yet. She fully expected to blunder eventually. She was concentrating on the steps so she didn’t notice when he leaned down farther than appropriate and whispered, “I think we’ve skated past the point of formality don’t you. Don’t you think you should use by my given name now...” His hot breath caressed her ear. “Say my name, my dear. You do remember it don’t you?”
Of course she did…Charles. He’d given her leave to use it the first time they met, but to use it was still highly inappropriate. “Thank ye but I must decline yer generous offer.”
He lifted a brow and his lips tilted upward almost sardonically, then asked. “Must you?”
“Haven’t ye been listening tae the rumors spreading about us already.” How could he be so thickheaded? She should have declined dancing with him. It would only end up making things worse. The envious debutantes and their avaricious mothers would find a way to make her appear unfavorable some how. “It might be prudent for us to stay away from each other going forward.”
“Perhaps,” he began. “But I never let society dictate my actions and neither should you. It wouldn’t suit either of our purposes I don’t think.”
“And what exactly is yer purpose my lord?” She glared at him. “Tae completely ruin whatever is left of my tattered reputation?”
“I hadn’t realized you were trying to preserve it considering the first time we crossed paths you were on your way to some sort of assignation in the library at the Loxton ball.”
“I was doing no such thing,” she exclaimed. How dare he imply she would secretly meet a gentleman. “I only sought a few moments alone tae gather my thoughts. I dinna particularly enjoy balls and soirees. People are so…taxing.” She had a sudden urge to run from the room. Tears threatened to fall and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to hold them back. Abigail had believed he thought better of her, but he was just like all the gossipmongers ripping her to shreds with their words. He actually believed her wanton and reckless. She tried to pull away from him but he held her in a firm grasp. “Let me go.”
“Not yet,” he replied through gritted teeth. “You will create more rumors if you flee from the middle of the dance floor. We’ll finish this dance and afterward we will find some place more private to discuss this.”
“As far as I’m concerned there is nothing tae discuss. Ye have said all I need tae hear.”
“That’s unlikely, my dear. Trust me I’ve left much unsaid.”
She met his gaze boldly and replied, “and I’ve no wish tae listen tae a word. Consider our association at an end.”
The strands of the music died and he brought them to a halt at the edge of the dance floor. She turned on her heels and fled from his presence. Abigail didn’t run. Oh, she wanted to, but he was right. It would only make things worse and she didn’t want to add any more fodder to the gossip mills. Instead she quietly, with her head held high, walked purposely to her sister and told her that she was leaving—with or without her. Luckily, Belinda didn’t argue and followed her out of the ballroom. Their chaperone, bless her soul, had fallen in step behind them and didn’t ask any questions. She kept the tears at bay all the way to their townhouse, but once she was in the privacy of her bedchamber they flowed freely.
Why had she fallen in love with the bloody arse?
***
Charles stared at the entrance to the Earl of Hayfield’s townhouse. He had to go in there and apologize. He’d made a blunder of everything and for the first time in his life he didn’t know what direction he should take. Lady Abigail would probably never want to see him ever again, and he couldn’t blame her. She was right. The entire ton talked of nothing but the scene they’d created at the Duchess of Breckenridge’s garden party. He had assured her that it would be all right, and for him it was. They didn’t blame him for that fiasco. They’d placed the responsibility solely on Lady Abigail’s delicate shoulders.
He should go inside and beg her for forgiveness. He had to make reparations in some way. If only he could figure out what would make it right. Something that would stop all the rumors…
There was only one thing that would do that—did he dare?
Charles glanced at the townhouse one last time and then spun on his heels to leave. He’d made a decision about what to do, but he needed to make a few plans first. The solution had been there all along, but he’d been too blind, and too stubborn to see it. There was a reason why he’d been drawn to Lady Abigail from the start.
He strolled down Mayfair until he reached the Earl of Harrington’s home. Once there he hopped the stairs two at a time and rapped on the door. The butler opened it up and raised a b
ushy white eyebrow. “Lord Coventry,” he greeted. “Are you expected?”
“No,” he answered. “Is Lord Harrington in residence?” He hoped the answer would be in the affirmative. If he is plan was going to work he’d need his friend’s assistance. Charles held a lot of sway, but as the son of a duke, George held more. Using the Duke of Southington’s name would open more doors then Charles’s ever would.
“He’s in his study,” the butler answered. “Would you like me to announce you?”
“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” Charles told him. “I know the way. Thank you, Bentley.” He walked past the butler and went to George’s study. He tapped his knuckles on the doorframe to gain his friend’s attention. George had his head bent down as he studied a ledger on his desk. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” Charles said when George glanced up.
“Not at all,” he answered. “Please come in. I could use some time away from those account books. My head is swirling with numbers and it’s causing some pain to start to throb in my temples.”
Charles strolled into the room and smiled. “Then you’ll be happy to put them away for the rest of the day. I need your assistance regarding Lady Abigail.”
George’s lips tilted upward into a wide grin. “Well, well, it’s about damn time.”
“How do you know what I need?” Charles lifted a brow. “I didn’t even tell you what I require from you?”
His friend stood and walked over to his side. He patted Charles on the shoulder and replied, “With the rumors making the rounds? It was a matter of time you came here. If I were a betting man I’d have made a wager in the books at the club.” He shook his head and chuckled lightly. “I suppose this means I can finally retire from head of the club too. You’re going to need to take over if we hold you accountable to the rules. It would be a shame for you to be banned from your own club.”
Charles scowled. “We’ll discuss those details later. We have other things to see to first.”