Page 18 of The Duke and his Hellion
“Impossibly so,” he said with a laugh and Abigail shook her head.
“Luckily I know you well enough by now, Your Grace, to know that had you not enjoyed this you'd have stopped helping me,” she said, suddenly serious and Charles nodded, looking down at her with an indecipherable look in his eye.
“You are very right about that, my lady,” he said, his voice almost low enough to be a whisper. “These lessons have been the highlight of my season.”
Abigail's heart skipped a beat at this and her face flushed. Was it possible at all that he too felt as though the sun shone just a little brighter when they were together?
No, she decided quickly. She was certainly mistaken. There was no way that a man like him would ever be truly interested in a girl like her and she closed her eyes in an attempt to shield herself from the disappointment building within her at this thought.
“Something wrong, my lady?”
His voice was concerned and Abigail looked up, forcing herself to smile. “Not at all,” she said quickly, and she forced herself to smile. “I was merely thinking of finding a real suitor.”
Charles's smile disappeared at this and a dark frown settled between his brows, but it was only momentary. Then he smiled and tilted his head to look at her.
“Oh? Are you ready to be courted officially?”
“Well…” Abigail hesitated. She knew that she could not speak her mind, could not tell him what she truly hoped, and she nodded. “I believe I am.”
Charles raised his teacup in a mock toast, a glint of mischief in his eye. “To Lady Abigail,” he proclaimed, “the belle of the ball and the toast of the ton. May she dazzle and delight all who cross her path.”
Harriet and Abigail raised their cups in response, laughter and good cheer filling the room as they sipped their tea and nibbled on biscuits. But beneath the surface, Abigail's mind was awhirl with thoughts and emotions, hopes and fears and secret longings that she dared not give voice to.
Finally, as the sun began to sink towards the horizon and the shadows lengthened across the lawn, Charles rose to take his leave. He bowed low over Abigail's hand, his lips brushing against her knuckles in a feather-light kiss that sent shivers racing down her spine.
“Until our next lesson, my lady,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “I look forward to seeing how much you've grown and learned in the interim.”
With a final, enigmatic smile, he turned and strode from the room, leaving Abigail feeling breathless and flushed, her skin tingling with the memory of his touch. Beside her, Harriet let out a soft chuckle.
“He is quite the man, is he not, your Duke of Grouton?”
Abigail's eyes widened at the choice of words and she shook her head quickly, a blush coloring her cheeks. “He is… he is certainly notmyduke,” she exclaimed, then a soft laugh bubbled from her lips. “Besides, Hugh made me promise not to fall for him — apparently he does not feel like inviting a rake like that into his family.”
Despite these words, Abigail could not help but wonder if the duke's reputation was really deserved. Though she'd heard in no uncertain terms that he'd had quite a way with the ladies, every tale she'd listened to painted him as a man who was careful to do harm to a woman's reputation.
Was he really that much of a rake then?
“Come,” Harriet invited now — moving with some difficulty to the parlor. “I must admit,” she said as they walked, “that I cannot wait for Hugh to return. I miss him terribly when he works away.”
“What is it like?” Abigail asked impulsively and a blush rose to her cheeks as the words left her lips. “I mean…” she continued, pushing through carefully. “What does it feel like to be in love?”
Harriet smiled and a faraway look appeared in her eyes as she absently rubbed her growing belly. “It is difficult to explain — and it is certainly not something I was looking for,” she admitted. “When I first married your brother, I was certain that we may grow to tolerate each other, perhaps like each other… and then one day, I looked at him and it felt as though my heart had grown wings to fly towards him and him only.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I suppose somewhere along the way, I started to see beneath that stern exterior. I saw his kindness, his loyalty, his fierce love for his family. And before I knew it, I was head over heels, utterly and completely in love with him. And it was as though he had turned the entire world that had been gray and dreary into one of color.”
Abigail listened intently, trying to imagine what it must feel like to be so consumed by another person, to have your heart and soul so entwined with theirs. “And now you wouldn't have anyone else?” she asked, her voice soft and wondering.
Harriet's smile widened, her eyes shining with a depth of emotion that took Abigail's breath away. “Not for all the world, Abby. Your brother is my everything, my heart and my home. I could not imagine my life without him by my side.”
Abigail nodded, a strange sense of longing tugging at her heart. She wanted that, she realized with a sudden clarity. She wanted a love like Harriet and Hugh's, a love that was deep and true and unshakeable.
But even as the thought crossed her mind, another image flashed before her eyes — a pair of piercing blue eyes, a roguish smile, a low, teasing voice that seemed to promise all sorts of wicked delights. The Duke of Grouton, with his enigmatic charm and his rakish reputation, the man who made her heart race and her skin tingle with a single glance.
Abigail frowned, shaking her head as if to clear it of such treacherous thoughts. “I think I'll retire for the evening,” she said abruptly, rising to her feet and smoothing her skirts. “It's been a long day, and I find myself quite fatigued.”
Harriet looked up at her, a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Of course, Abby. Get some rest, and we'll talk more in the morning.”
CHAPTER11
