Page 91 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
Sometimes, he would be barely there, but she could understand the extra precaution. After all, they had a visitor.
The guard hesitated, but after more prompting from her, he eventually left the room.
Gwendoline suspected that he would be near, anyway. Perhaps just outside the door.
The two young women settled on the sofa. The tension broke when they smiled at each other. Even Abigail’s face softened as soon as they were alone.
“Please tell me everything. I was distraught when I learned what happened to you. Alexandra was about to rush toward you, but her child caught her first. They think we ladies are delicate—that we can’t be exposed to violence or even the hint of it. But how can we protect ourselves if we are not aware of the dangers nearby?”
“I wholeheartedly agree, dear Abigail.”
“And?” Abigail prompted when Gwendoline didn’t seem too eager to tell her the full story.
For most people, that night a married lady of the ton was attacked by a peer. Everyone questioned their own safety. For Gwendoline, however, it was the night her heart was torn out of her chest by the man she thought she would protect—the same man she was willing to die for.
“Ti—Montrose did it. He was pressuring me for information. I gave it to him, and he still hit my head with his pistol. I guess I should be grateful he didn’t shoot me. The whole thing destroyed whatever I had with Damian, though. He feels as if I don’t trust him to handle things. He also believes that I’ve ruined his plans.”
It was difficult to recount how coldly Damian had treated her after she had just told her friend how things were going well between them. But she did. She talked about how she was exiled to Greyvale for her own safety. Abigail listened intently, her brow furrowed the whole time.
When Gwendoline finally finished her tale, Abigail sighed and reached for her hand to squeeze it comfortingly.
“Men,” she muttered exasperatedly. “They always think they know what’s best for us. They think that they should always get their way. The duke wants to protect you by hurting you with words before anyone else can hurt you again? Here you are, looking miserable and isolated, and it’s supposed to be good for you?”
Abigail’s words made Gwendoline wonder if her friend had somehow experienced what she was complaining about. She seemed to have strong opinions about men for an unmarried lady.
“Damian meant well,” Gwendoline said, somehow still defending her husband even though her voice lacked conviction.
“Perhaps you are right,” Abigal relented. “However, poor execution destroys good intentions. Why couldn’t he have done it without hurting your feelings? You are a strong and intelligent woman. You also did what you did for him. He could not just decide to put you in a gilded cage.”
“I did something wrong, Abigail,” Gwendoline sighed, looking down at her lap, where her other hand was clenched. “I ruined his chance at revenge. He had been planning it for years before I even met him. I made a mess of it when I involved myself in it. It’s not his fault.”
“Listen to yourself. You made the right decision. Nobody could have known what Montrose was thinking at that moment. He could have shot you. He could have had somebody shoot His Grace. All your experiences have made you develop a keen sense of survival. I wish your husband would realize that soon enough.”
Gwendoline mulled it over.
No, Abigail could not see that while she had started to develop feelings for Damian, he was more interested in revenge. Whatever they had was fragile because it was not founded on love. It was a mere alliance to bring Timothy down. Now that she proved she was the weak link, she had been discarded while Damian and Evan continued their quest.
“Whatever we have is not what normal couples have, Abigail,” she reminded her friend. “Once he gets his revenge, I will be left to languish here in Greyvale. He might be too honorable todivorce me. And if I leave him, I’ll just cause a huge scandal that I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.”
“Mm. You do know that you can always leave the country and start anew,” Abigail suggested cheekily, the dimple in her cheek popping.
“But in that case, I’ll never be able to come back,” Gwendoline pointed out.
She couldn’t imagine starting anew. She had lost so much already. Could she afford to lose her friends too? Could she stand not knowing what was going on in Damian’s life?
“Perhaps we could go wherever we wanted to,” Abigail said with good humor. Then, both of them sighed. They knew that was an impossibility.
They knew that they could dream about these things, but they were still bound by duty. Gwendoline was bound to Damian. Abigail’s absence might put her parents in a rough spot—as the ones who had raised a daughter into scandal.
“I don’t have my own money, anyway,” Gwendoline grumbled.
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Money was the least of their problems. Their minds were full of adventure, of being governesses or even farmers. For now, they could continue dreaming together.
Abigail’s visit was a balm to her soul. Even though they might not have solved any problem, her friend had soothed her frayed nerves. Gwendoline didn’t feel quite as alone as when she started the day. By the time night fell, she felt more determined to take more control of her life and destiny.
No more fear.
