Page 16 of The Duke and his Hellion
He did not give her time to answer — instead, he merely looped her arm through his own as they made their way back towards the house.
Abigail kept sneaking glances at the man next to her. There was truly something about him that she'd never expected to see. Her heart skipped a beat.
But still, she could not help but hope, could not help but dream of a future where love conquered all; where two hearts could find each other amidst the swirling chaos of the ton and emerge stronger, better, more whole than they had ever been before.
As they reached the steps of the house, Charles turned to face her, his expression serious once more. “I hope you have found our lesson illuminating, Lady Abigail,” he said formally, though there was a glint of mischief in his eye that belied his solemn tone. “And I look forward to continuing your education in the days and weeks to come.”
Abigail dipped into a graceful curtsy, a smile playing about her lips as she met his gaze squarely. “I have indeed, Your Grace. And I shall eagerly await our next meeting, with bated breath and a heart full of wonder.”
And with that, she turned and made her way up the steps, her skirts swishing about her ankles and her head held high.
CHAPTER10
Every morning that Abigail awoke, her heart fluttered even more with anticipation — and today was no different. Abigail was up before the birds, dawdling through the house with a dreamy grin that spread across her face.
When Charles arrived, there was a glint of mischief in his eye, his lips curved in a roguish grin that made Abigail's heart skip a beat. He glanced at Harriet and nodded in her direction with a charming grin before turning his attentions to Abigail. “My lady,” he said, bowing low over her hand.
Abigail's heart skipped a treacherous beat as she looked up at him and he comfortably took her hand before looping it through his arm, sending shockwaves through her skin.
“Shall we have a cup of tea first?” she offered impulsively and he nodded at once. “Perhaps we should.”
Harriet merely nodded and Abigail beamed as they made their way to the drawing room where Charles sat down easily, his eyes boring into hers as she poured the tea.
Though he seemed quite at ease, Abigail could not hide her curiosity about what she'd learn and how they'd spend their time together today.
“So what are we doing today?” she asked quickly and Charles laughed softly.
“I have a special lesson planned for you today, little lady. One that I think you'll find most illuminating.”
Abigail raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued by his cryptic words. “And what lesson might that be, Your Grace?”
Charles's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Why, the art of the dance, of course. With the upcoming ball, it's essential that you master the intricacies of the ballroom, the subtle language of movement and rhythm that can make or break a young lady's reputation.”
Abigail frowned at this, then pouted. “But I can dance,” she exclaimed, her eyes widening slightly. “We shared a dance at the previous ball, did we not? Are you saying that there is a wrong way of dancing?”
Charles's soft laughter reverberated through the chamber and he shook his head. “Do not fret,” he explained, amusement tinging his voice. “You are indeed quite the apt dancer. But the lessons are not about the physical movements of dance — instead we are aiming to help you build confidence and mastery in the messages of society. A dance includes that.”
He paused, a sudden thought occurring to him. “But we will need music, of course. A dance without accompaniment is like a bird without wings — lovely to look at, but unable to take flight.”
“I think I can help you there,” Harriet spoke, her voice clear and a bright grin settling around her lips. “I cannot claim to be an accomplished musician whatsoever, but I can at least play the pianoforte. Or, well…”
Harriet looked down at her protruding stomach and let out a laugh. “At least I usually can. I am not sure how well it will go now, but I can try.”
Abigail laughed softly as she gestured to Harriet's figure that was starting to appear rather uncomfortable at this stage of her pregnancy.
“Are you sure you are up for it?” she asked, though not without a worried glance in Charles's direction.
Harriet set the book she'd been perusing to the side and stood with a soft laugh, nodding.
“I am quite certain,” she said as she moved to the Fortepiano. “I will be able to manage a tune or two, if only to spare you the indignity of dancing to the sound of your own humming!”
Abigail could not help but giggle as Harriet waddled over to the pianoforte, clearly determined despite the obvious discomfort in her expression. With a dramatic flourish, Harriet settled herself on the bench, her belly pressing against the keys and eliciting a discordant jumble of notes.
“Oh dear,” Harriet laughed, shifting her position and trying to find a comfortable angle. “I fear this may be a bit more challenging than I anticipated.”
Charles and Abigail exchanged amused glances as Harriet began to play, her fingers moving clumsily over the keys. The melody was recognizable, but interspersed with the occasional sour note or missed chord, the result of Harriet's awkward posture and restricted movement.
“Shall we, my lady?” Charles asked, extending his hand to Abigail with a mischievous grin.
