Page 29 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Beast
Chapter Fourteen
Abigail rose and pulled on her dressing gown. Having spent the last two days at Crestwood Hall, she now found herself struggling to sleep what with the heat of the day and given that her thoughts were continually fixed on Lord Crestwood and their upcoming marriage. A good many plans had been made the last two days and though she was contented with them all, she still found herself rather anxious over the impending wedding day. Lord Crestwood’s attentions towards her had improved a little – at least he looked at her now – but there was still a good deal of reserve displayed. It was as though he had to purposefully remind himself to sit with her, to speak with her and even to smile at her. On one or two occasions, the smile on his lips had come naturally but other times, it had been forced and hurried, barely there before it had disappeared again.
“Perhaps a new book to read?” Murmuring to herself, Abigail made her way to the door of her bedchamber and, opening it, peered out into the darkness. Turning back into the room, she picked up her candlestick and then stepped out again, knowing the house well enough by now to know where she had to go. The library was not too far from her bedchamber though the manor house was very large indeed. Everyone else, Abigail was sure, would be abed by now and the servants had taken to their rooms also. It was only unfortunate that she had not been able to sleep given both the weariness of her bones and the late hour.
Her soft slippers made no noise as she hurried down the hallway, candlestick still in hand. Coming to the library, she pushed open the door and stepped inside, only to let out a cry of surprise.
“Miss Townsend.”
Lord Crestwood rose from his chair the moment Abigail stepped inside and Abigail, her heart still thundering from the shock of seeing him, began to stammer furiously.
“My lord, I – I did not realise. I should return.”
“Nonsense.” There was a small smile to Lord Crestwood’s face and he waved one hand around at all of the books. “You have come to find something to read, I imagine?”
Abigail nodded and set the candlestick down, realizing that Lord Crestwood was rather merry no doubt due to the brandy which now sat on the table in front of him, though the glass was nearly empty. It would not have been his first glass either, she considered, moving towards the shelves slowly while keeping one eye on Lord Crestwood. A lady ought not to be alone with a gentleman under any circumstances – and onewhere she was wearing only her nightgown and dressing gown even more so!
“I do not mind which book I take,” she said quickly, her heart still pounding rather furiously as Lord Crestwood moved a little more towards her. “Something that I can read to help me sleep.”
“Ah, you see? That is a wise thought. Ifyoucannot sleep, you take a book to read. If I cannot sleep… well… ” Gesturing to his empty glass, he swung back towards her and smiled again, though he stumbled just a little. “Brandy.”
“I think a book would have done you a good deal better.”
He laughed then and Abigail’s heart lurched, making her lick her lips as the Earl of Crestwood drew ever closer. The desire to escape, to hurry away from him and maintain her propriety was entirely absent, much to her surprise and instead, she found herself eager to remain, to linger with him – even though such a thing was most untoward and certainly couldnotbe truly considered!
“I think you are right, Abigail.”
A thrill ran up her spine and she shuddered lightly hearing her name upon his lips. “I thank you, Lord Crestwood.” Swallowing hard, she looked up at him, seeing a softness in his expression which had not often been there before. “Why could you not sleep?”
A frown pulled away Lord Crestwood’s smile. “Because I have been thinking. And thinking too much for any length of time is incredibly taxing.”
Recalling her promise to Lady Isabella about attempting to draw closer to Lord Crestwood even when he might not desire it, Abigail harnessed her courage and spoke boldly. “What is it you have been thinking of? Is it our wedding?”
“Mayhap.” The Earl tilted his head. “And Lady Clara.”
Abigail’s heart dropped to the floor. He was thinking of Lady Clara? Why would he be considering the lady who had injured him so greatly? Was he now eager to resume their connection? Had his thoughts turned in a more positive direction towards her?
“She caused me a great deal of suffering. But mayhap, I have added to my own pain also.” With a sigh, the Earl reached out and caught her hand, pulling her a little closer. “Tell me truthfully, Abigail, do you think me a beast?”
Surprised, Abigail’s eyes widened. “A beast? No, indeed I do not!”
“No?”
The way his blue eyes searched her face had her own heart aching as she pressed her lips together and wondered how she might convince him. “No, Lord Crestwood. I truly do not think you a beast. What Idothink is that what Lady Clara said of you is utterly disgraceful.” Her heartthudded wildly she dared to lift her other hand and, though the Earl’s eyes widened a little, he did not move back as she lightly pressed her hand against his scarred cheek. “There is nothing beast-like about you, Lord Crestwood. Nothing at all.”
For what felt like an age, they stood there together, her hand pressed against his cheek, his hand holding hers tightly. And then, much to Abigail’s astonishment, the Earl of Crestwood smiled, turned his head and caught her hand in a quick kiss before it fell back to her side.
This was astonishing in the utmost! The brandy had made the Earl of Crestwood a good deal merrier, yes, but there was also an openness to him now, a vulnerability which he could not help but reveal even though, in his sober minded state, Abigail was certain he would never have done such a thing. Lightning ran in her veins and she swallowed tightly, looking back at him with careful eyes. He was making no attempt to move back from her, showed no eagerness to move away as she would have expected him to, had he been sober and though her whole body was thrumming with a strange heat, Abigail did not move away either. Yes, she ought not to be in his presence alone and certainly not in her night things, but this was more of an astonishment than anything else and, truth be told, she did not want to depart from him. There might be more for her to say, more for him to express and even though he were a little in his cups, would it not be good for him to do such a thing?
“Captain Harrington says that you are nothing like Lady Clara.”
Abigail’s throat constricted. “I beg your pardon, Lord Crestwood?”
“He says that you are not like her, that you would tell me the truth should I ask it.”
A strange darkness crept over her. “You think that I am akin to Lady Clara? The lady who not only broke your heart but told thetonthat you were a beast?” She spoke freely, seeing him frown but finding the shock of his words so great, she could not hold herself back. “Why should you think that I would be anythinglikethat lady? I should never dream of saying anything like that!”
“Ah but you might think it!” Lord Crestwood tapped her nose lightly with one finger though the scowl on his face took any playful teasing away from his tone. “I do not know what it is you think of me.”
