Page 12 of The Duke and his Hellion
“Abigail?” Hugh's voice called from the other side, a note of hesitation in his tone. “Can I come in?”
Abigail hesitated, her heart clenching at the sound of her brother's voice. Part of her wanted to refuse him, to cling to her anger and her hurt like a shield against the outside world. But another part — the part that loved Hugh fiercely despite their differences — could not bear to shut him out any longer.
“Come in,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper.
The door creaked open, and Hugh stepped inside, his face etched with concern and regret. He looked tired, Abigail realized with a pang of guilt, as though he hadn't slept well in days.
“I am sorry to disturb ye,” he said softly, moving to sit beside her on the bed. “But I needed to talk to ye before I left.”
Abigail frowned, confusion wrinkling her brow. “Left? Where are you going?”
Hugh sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “I have to go away for a few days on business. There's a matter with one of our lands that requires my personal attention.”
Abigail nodded impassively at this. In truth, as much as she loved her brother, a part of her was glad to have some space, some time to sort through her own thoughts and feelings without the constant pressure of Hugh's presence.
“I see,” she said at last, her voice carefully neutral. “Well, I hope your trip goes well.”
Hugh was silent for a moment, his gaze searching her face as though trying to read the thoughts behind her guarded expression. “Abby,” he said at last, his voice low and earnest. “I know things have been strained between us lately, and I know that's largely my fault. I've been too hard on ye, too controlling and overprotective.”
Abigail looked up at her brother earnestly and he sighed.
“I just want ye to know,” he continued, his hand reaching out to cover hers where it lay on the bedspread, “that I do trust ye, Abby. I know ye're a smart, capable young woman, with a good head on yer shoulders. It's just... it is hard for me to watch ye grow up, to let go of the little girl I've spent my whole life trying to protect.”
Abigail felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, a lump rising in her throat at the raw emotion in Hugh's voice. “Oh, Hugh,” she whispered, her fingers tightening around his. “I know you're only trying to keep me safe. But you have to let me make my own choices, and my own mistakes. It's the only way I'll ever learn, and grow into the person I am meant to be.”
Hugh nodded, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I know, lass. And I am trying, truly I am. It's just... the ton can be a cruel, unforgiving place, especially for those of us who do not quite fit the mold. I've seen firsthand how quickly they can turn on someone, how easily they can destroy a reputation or a future with a few well-placed whispers.”
He sighed, his gaze distant as though lost in some painful memory. “I do not want that for ye, Abby. I do not want to see ye hurt or ostracized, or made to feel like you're anything less than the brilliant, beautiful soul ye are.”
Abigail's heart clenched, a fierce rush of love and gratitude welling up within her at her brother's words. “I know, Hugh. And I appreciate that, more than you can possibly know. But I am not a child anymore. I am a woman now, with my own hopes and dreams and desires. And if I am ever going to find my place in this world, I need to be able to navigate it on my own terms — to make my own way forward.”
Hugh was silent for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Then, with a heavy sigh, he nodded, his grip on her hand tightening fractionally. “Ye're right, Abby. As much as it pains me to admit it, ye're right. I can't keep you locked away forever, safe from the world and all its dangers. If you truly want to continue your lessons with the duke, to learn the ways of the ton and find yer own path... then I won't stand in yer way.”
Abigail's eyes widened with relief. “Really?” she breathed, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. “You mean it, Hugh? You'll let me continue my studies with the duke, without interference or objection?”
Hugh nodded, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Aye, lass. On one condition.”
Abigail's heart sank, a flicker of trepidation racing through her at the sudden seriousness in her brother's tone. “What condition?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hugh's gaze bore into hers, fierce and unwavering. “That ye guard yer heart, Abigail. That ye do not let yerself get swept away by the duke's charm or his flattery, that ye do not mistake his attentions for anything more than a mere flirtation.”
He leaned forward, a lopsided grin appearing on his lips. “I don't fancy havin' him as a brother-in-law.”
Abigail flushed, a hot rush of embarrassment and indignation flooding through her at her brother's blunt words. “Hugh!” she exclaimed, her voice sharp with reproach. “It's not like that at all! The duke is a perfect gentleman, and he's never once made any improper advances or insinuations towards me.”
Hugh held up a placating hand, his expression softening fractionally. “I am glad to hear that. I just want to protect ye, lassie. But I am rather serious. The day I welcome that rake into my family is the day I take up embroidery and start wearing bonnets to tea.”
Abigail laughed, the sound bright and joyous as it echoed through the room. “Oh, I do not know, Hugh. I think you'd look rather fetching in a bonnet. It would bring out the blue in your eyes.”
Hugh growled, reaching out to tug playfully on a lock of her hair. “Impudent whelp,” he grumbled, but there was no heat in his words, only a fond exasperation that made Abigail's heart swell with love.
“I promise, Hugh,” she said softly, her laughter fading into a more serious expression. “I won't let myself get carried away by the duke's attentions.”
Even as the words left her lips, Abigail felt a flicker of doubt — a tiny voice in the back of her mind that whispered of the duke's piercing blue eyes and roguish smile, the way her heart raced and her skin tingled whenever he was near. But she pushed it aside, burying it deep beneath the layers of her newfound resolve. She would not let herself be swayed by sentiment or emotion, would not let herself fall prey to the same foolish fantasies that had led so many women astray.
Hugh nodded, a look of relief crossing his face at her words. “Good lass,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “Ye've got a good head on your shoulders, Abby. Do not let anyone tell ye otherwise.”
With that, he rose to his feet, squeezing her hand one last time before turning to take his leave. “I'll be back in a few days,” he said, pausing at the threshold to look back at her. “Until then... be safe, be smart, and do not do anything I wouldn't do.”
