Page 25 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Beast
“Forgive me.” He made no explanation other than that and instead, simply looked across the dance floor behind her as they continued on with the dance. He had already told Miss Townsend that he was not about to permit his heart free when it came to their acquaintance. He was not going to let himselffeel,not after Lady Clara and certainly not after how he appeared. Thetonhad already made it clear that he looked more like a beast than a man and he was not about to let himself fall in love with a young lady who could never, truly, think of him in the same way. There was no sense in hoping, not even for a moment, that Miss Townsend might ever look at him with love. The scarson his face were too great for him to ever truly be considered in that regard, he was sure of it. After all, that was what Lady Clara had stated, what she had given as her reason for ending their engagement. Miss Townsend would marry him, he was sure, but he could not dare risk his heart.
“If you are displeased with me, then you need only say.” Miss Townsend’s eyes caught him, her gaze searching. “I do not mean to upset you.”
“I am not at all displeased,” he reassured her, knowing he could not tell her the truth of his thoughts at present. “Though I should like to make quite clear that what Iamdispleased with is the thought of having to invite Lady Clara and Lady Templeton to the ball, though I do not hold you at all accountable for that. The way Lady Templeton spoke meant that it was either to be the ball or the entire house party!”
The waltz continued and Miss Townsend danced for a few minutes in silence before she spoke again, albeit with a similar amount of hesitancy. “Might I ask why you think she is so very eager for her daughter to join the ball?”
“I do not know.” Arthur scowled. “And I shall have to invite Lord Drover also. I think it all an exceedingly frustrating situation and I can assure you that, whatever end Lady Templeton hopes to be making as regards either myself or her daughter, she will not find success.”
The quick smile on Miss Townsend’s face had Arthur smiling back at her, the tense moment fading. The waltz continued on and though Arthur’s heart began to soften all the more, though his desire to pull Miss Townsend a little closer began to burn through him, he ignored both without too much difficulty. Though when the dance came to an end and she smiled, he suddenly found it more difficult than he had anticipated to release her. Clearing his throat, he bowed his head and brought a stern, severe expression back to his face again – the one he usually wore. And by the time he had brought Miss Townsend back to Lady Townsend, he had all of his strange feelings back entirely under control.
Chapter Twelve
“So this is Crestwood Hall.”
Looking around her, Abigail could not help but feel a little overawed. The drive to Crestwood Hall had taken less than a day’s ride in the carriage and she had delighted in the beautiful countryside, in the river, the bridge, the flowers and the meadows in her view. The estate was vast and the manor house, though not intimidating itself, was certainly larger than her father’s and, in that, had a greater presence.
“It is.” Lord Crestwood, who had offered his arm to her the moment she had stepped out of the carriage, gestured to the beautiful oak wood paneling along the walls. “My father had this wing of the house repaired and restored in the years before he died.”
“It is beautiful.” She glanced up at him but Lord Crestwood was not looking at her, his gaze still on the house itself. He had not really looked into her face since she had arrived and that did concern her a little.
“You will want to rest, I am sure. The drive was – ”
“The drive was not in the least bit taxing,” she replied, quickly. “It was not as long as I had anticipated.”
Lord Crestwood frowned. “Then you do not want to rest?”
“No, I would be quite contented to continue walking with you.” An uncomfortable knot settled in her stomach as they walked together, sensing a prickling nervousness rising up within her again. At the ball where she had not only come to his defense but spoken in his place and, unfortunately, been forced to suggest that an invitation to the house party ball might be forthcoming to Lady Templeton, Abigail had thought there had come an improved connection between them both. Now, however, from the moment she had stepped into his company, that strange tension had reappeared. It was as though he had felt the very same but now did not want to continue with that improvement. Instead, he might wish to push it back, to push it away from them both. That was not what Abigail wanted but it seemed as though Lord Templeton was not about to permit her such a thing.
Her future with the Earl of Crestwood was as unsettling a prospect as it had ever been. If he would not look at her, would not willingly engage her in conversation and had no desire to improve their connection, then what was she to do?
“Miss Townsend! There you are!”
A whirlwind in a shade of pink rushed towards Abigail and she caught her breath, only to laugh as Lady Isabella embraced her. “Lady Isabella, good evening.”
“How wonderful that you are here!” the lady exclaimed, grasping Abigail’s hands and stepping back. “I did ask for the staff to tell me when you had arrived but I was out in the gardens and it took me some time to return.”
“I am very glad to see you again.” Abigail meant every word, for Lady Isabella was a very kind creature and seemed to be very glad indeed to have her in Crestwood Hall – which was more than could be said for her brother. “I look forward to spending a few days here.”
Lady Isabella squeezed her hands. “This shall soon be your home! You are to be the Mistress of Crestwood Hall, so it is just as well you are here for a few days so that you might know everything about it. It is a beautiful house and my brother keeps the estate very well.”
Abigail cast a look up to Lord Crestwood and though he smiled at his sister, it was a little tight and he did not respond to her in any way.
“Come, let me take you to the drawing room and there we might have tea and cakes,” Lady Isabella said, pulling her towards the door though Lord Crestwood did not make any protest. “The dinner gong will not sound for at least another two hours so I am certain a cup of tea will give us no difficulty.”
Abigail glanced over her shoulder but Lord Crestwood had already turned away. Her heart twisted and she swallowed hard, a little surprised at how sharply an ache came into her heart. Was this what she was to expect from Lord Crestwood? A gentleman so unwilling to consider affection, so undesirous of tenderness between himself and his bride, that he would be nothing but cold and distant? She had seen hints of the sort of gentleman he might be, the sort of character he had within himself – but she had also learned how easily he pushed that down. It was almost too difficult to bear and though she put a smile to her face as Lady Isabella led her forward, the pain in her heart grew with every step she took.
***
“And a wonderful dinner as well!”
Abigail smiled briefly at her mother’s enthusiasm though she herself did not share it. The dinner itself had been delicious but it was Lord Crestwood’s complete lack of interest in her company which had her heartsick.
“You are all very welcome,” Lady Crestwood replied, sharing Lady Townsend’s smile. “Now, shall we take our leave, ladies, and leave the gentlemen to their port?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Abigail saw how Lady Isabella smiled warmly in Captain Harrington’s direction and how he, in return,responded with a small inclination of his head. She then turned her attention to Lord Crestwood but he was not looking at her nor even in her direction. Instead, his head was turned as he spoke directly to her father.
A shadow fell over her heart and she rose quickly, hurrying from the room before her distress could be made known.
