Page 4 of The Duke and his Hellion
“Just because I do not quite fit in,” she said carefully, “does not mean I am drowning. And I feel sorry foryouif you do not see that some people dare to think outside of the confines of society.”
Charles lifted a brow at this and clapped his hands together. “Brava,” he announced with a grin. “You have some bite. You may still survive in this society yet.”
Despite herself, Abigail felt quite proud of his praise and she lifted her chin.
“You still have not told me why you extended the offer,” she said, and his gaze darkened again.
“Perhaps it is because I know what it is like to feel as though society looks at you and sees only the shallow picture of who you are,” he said at last and she looked at him suspiciously.
“I hardly think someone could look atyouand see a shallow picture,” she countered and he sighed.
“You'd be surprised,” he muttered simply, and suddenly the hint of joviality on his face faded. For some reason, it was the dark frown and the deep scowl that convinced him that he may have her best interests at heart after all and she looked at him earnestly.
“While I appreciate the offer, Your Grace, I am not some wide-eyed innocent. I have a mind of my own, and I intend to use it.”
Her voice was cool and Charles grinned, his eyes sparkling with delight. “I would expect nothing less, my lady. I have a feeling our courtship will be quite... stimulating.”
Abigail's face turned hot at that and she shook her head quickly, nearly stepping on his toes in her surprise.
“Courtship?” she said softly, taking great care not to shriek. “I thought… I thought you were only helping me as a friend?”
Charles shook his head with a deep, rumbling laugh that echoed through the ballroom.
“Certainly you are not that naive, my lady,” he threw her own words back at her and she let out a shuddering breath.
Courted by him? It was unthinkable. He was too intimidating, too serious.
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” she said firmly, her face still crimson. “But frankly, I find your offer insulting.”
As the music came to an end, Charles stepped back and bowed, his gaze never leaving Abigail's face. “Until our next lesson, then,” he said, his voice low and full of promise.
“No,” Abigail said firmly, her arms crossed over her chest. “I am sorry, Your Grace,” she said with a dark frown. “But I doubt we shall see each other again.”
Before she could do as much as walk away, another woman appeared in front of her dressed in a bold blue dress, her bright crimson hair curled upon her head. She cast an indignant glare in Abigail's direction before turning to Charles. “Your Grace,” she simpered, batting her lashes. “I believe you promised me a dance.”
Abigail scoffed at this rudeness. She caught sight of Charles's less-than-pleased expression as he led the woman away and the pair started twirling on the dance floor at once — seemingly perfectly suited for one another.
Meanwhile, Abigail made her way to the edge of the ballroom, her heart racing and her mind awhirl. The Duke of Grouton had proven to be far more interesting than she anticipated, with his quick wit and roguish charm.
As she reached for a glass of champagne from a passing footman, Abigail could not help but overhear the whispers and titters of the other young ladies.
“Did you see her? Dancing with the duke like some brazen hussy!”
“I heard she asked Lord Kensington to dance first. The poor boy looked positively scandalized!”
“She took off her gloves! Can you believe it?”
“What can you expect from a girl with no breeding? Her manners are utterly provincial.”
Abigail felt her cheeks burn with anger. She knew she didn't fit in with these prim and proper debutantes, with their perfectly coiffed hair and their delicate sensibilities. But she refused to let their cruel words break her spirit.
CHAPTER3
There was something about him, Abigail thought as her eyes found Charles's dancing figure — the crimson-haired lady clinging to him, her eyes gleaming with delight.Was that his betrothed? Or just a friend?
She had to know more about him. He was intriguing — far too much so for her own safety, she feared.
Abigail steeled herself, taking a deep breath before approaching the group of debutantes. She knew she needed more information about the Duke of Grouton, and these girls were her best chance at getting it, even if it meant enduring their snide remarks and haughty attitudes.
