Page 30 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Beast
“I do not know you,” Abigail answered, truthfully. “You seem not to desire to spend a good deal of time in my company.”
The Earl frowned. “Yes, but I told you why that was.”
“You do not intend to allow any emotion or affection into our connection,” she repeated, remembering the very words he had told her. “You are determined that very little will change as regards your life even as a married man.”
“And that is still exactly what I think,” came the reply though his gaze slid away from hers as he spoke.
Courage sent strength into her veins and, reaching out, Abigail took his hand in her own. “Then how can you ask me what it is I think of you if you will not give me time to get to know who you are?
Lord Crestwood frowned and narrowed his eyes as though she were deliberately attempting to catch him out rather than speaking freely. “Yes, but you can see my face.”
“And what does that have to do with who you are?” she retorted, a little more harshly than she had meant. “You are not the injuries to your face, Lord Crestwood. I care very little for that. My only concern is your character though, from what I have learned of you, I believe that you have the capacity to be a kind, considerate gentleman.”
Lord Crestwood’s frown lingered. “You will not tell me what you think of my appearance, then? You say that I am not beast but mayhap I am repulsive, grotesque or hideous to your eyes. Mayhap you dread taking me as a husband.”
Abigail hesitated, letting her fingers push through his, holding onto his hand a little more tightly. This was what Lady Isabella had spoken of to her, this ongoing concern that Lady Clara’s words did still cling to him. “I have already told you that I do not think you a beast. Nor do I think you repulsive, hideous or grotesque.”
“You cannot ignore my scars!”
“I can and I do.” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “When I look at you, Lord Crestwood, I see only your eyes and all the shadows that they hold. I see the questions within them and when you smile, I see the beautiful light which shines in them, chasing the darkness away. I see that you hold me away from you, that you do not want me to draw near and I find myself sorrowful in that.”
“Why?” There was a softness to Lord Crestwood’s tone now, a quietness which had her heart leaping. “Why do you feel any great sadness in that?”
Abigail smiled and pressed his hand, taking a step closer to him as a gentle scent of pine spun through her. “Because you are to be my husband, Lord Crestwood,” she said, putting one hand to his chest and feeling herself tremble with the great swell of hope which rose in her. “To my mind, it is only right that a wife should know her husband and her husband know her.”
Lord Crestwood drew in a long breath. “And you wish to know me?”
“I do.” Hope burned bright as he looked down into her eyes. “Very much.”
The room spun with stars as Lord Crestwood held her gaze, his hand still in hers, her hand against his chest.
And then he dropped his head and kissed her.
It was so unexpected, so extraordinary that for a moment, Abigail could not quite take in what was happening. The heat of his mouth on hers sent her tumbling to great heights of astonishment and, thereafter, delight. This was more wonderful than anything she had ever imagined! All she had wanted was to be a little closer to Lord Crestwood, to know him better than she did at present and now he was kissing her? It was something she would never have dared do herself but it had beenhewho had kissed her rather than the other way around – which meant that he had to desire such a thing!
Her delight broke apart in a moment as Lord Crestwood pulled back sharply, releasing her with such force, she stumbled forward and was forced to catch herself.
“I – I should not have done such a thing.” Lord Crestwood put one hand over his eyes and leaned forward, a groan escaping him. “I should never have – forgive me, Miss Townsend.”
No longer did he call her Abigail, no longer did he show any eagerness to be in her company. Instead, he was moving away from her, a look of almost panic on his face as he realized what it was he had done. Abigail felt no such upset, finding herself still glad that he had reached for her in such a way and thus, she spoke honestly of her feelings.
“I am not at all upset, Lord Crestwood. After all, we are to be married and – ”
“Ishould not have done such a thing!” he exclaimed again, throwing his hands up in the air and then turning around on his heel to stride to the opposite side of the room from her, blanketing himself in shadow. “It was foolish.Iam foolish.”
“You are not.” A slight tremble came into her voice as she reached out one hand but Lord Crestwood only shook his head and she dropped it back to her side. “How can a closeness, an intimacy and even an affection between husband and wife be a foolish thing?”
“Because it will only lead to pain,” he replied, harshly, his face a little flushed now. “Besides which, someone such as myself is unworthy of such affections. I am dark and monstrous whereas you are light and laughter. No, Miss Townsend, it is best that I remain far from you and you stay far from me. We may soon be husband and wife but I can promise you that the next kiss we share will be in front of the clergyman and, thereafter, no more shall follow. Do excuse me.”
Abigail could say nothing, could do nothing other than watch as Lord Crestwood made his way directly towards the door of the library.Stepping out, he left the door a little ajar and for a moment, Abigail made to follow after him, only to come to a stop.
Her heart cried out from the sheer agony within it, from the joy it had tasted only briefly to the brokenness which followed thereafter. She had allowed herself such hope, had believed that he might be willing to open his heart to her even a little, only to see her hopes shattered. Lord Crestwood was determined to remain quite alone, to keep his heart solely to himself and there was nothing, it seemed, that she was going to be able to do to free it.
Chapter Fifteen
I should never have kissed her.
The regret was almost entirely overpowering and Arthur let out a sigh of frustration, dropping his head and rubbing one hand over his eyes. Last night, he had been too much in his cups to let his senses take over fully and, therefore, had made the most ridiculous mistake. Despite the fact he had been rather merry, he still remembered everything that had been shared between them, every word he had said and every response she had given. He recalled the tenderness of her touch, the softness of her hand in his and the way she had smiled up into his eyes. He remembered how he had felt when he had kissed her, the sweetness of her lips pressed against his and how he had been so overcome with emotion, with desire and singular happiness, he had wanted to do nothing more than to crush her to himself.
