Page 43 of The Duke and his Hellion
In truth, Charles thought, he had no idea why things were suddenly so unbelievably awkward between the two of them. Save for the fact that they were now legally married, nothing had really changed between them. They finished the rest of their meal in silence, and Charles stood once they were done.
“Shall we?”
Abigail took his arm, and with a gentle smile he led her through the grand hallways of Grouton Manor.
“This,” Charles said as he pushed open a heavy oak door, “is the library.”
Abigail gasped as she stepped inside and she looked at Charles, impressed. “It is magnificent,” she said as she moved to run her fingers along the spines of leather-bound volumes. “Like a fairytale.”
A small smile tugged at Charles's lips as he looked at her. “You are welcome to read anything you like,” he offered. “After all, this is your home now too.”
Abigail's face flushed and she looked at him, almost apologetically. “I am an avid reader,” she admitted. “Hugh always teased me about it — he said I could get lost in stories quite easily, even as a child.”
Charles lifted a brow at this, though he remained silent. Abigail's gaze drifted towards the bookshelf longingly once more before she looked at him with a resolute smile.
“We can go on,” she said — though not without a hint of disappointment in her tone — and Charles laughed. “It seems my wife is certainly a dreamer,” he teased lightly and she blushed, though she took his proffered arm once more.
“I like books,” she explained simply. “In the end, in a book, everything works out alright. It makes me feel safe, I suppose.”
Charles frowned as he looked down at her. “Safe?”
Abigail nodded, her expression earnest. “Growing up in England, I always felt as though… I missed my roots, my real home,” she admitted. “And growing up without parents in a world that always felt like it did not want me… I suppose I always longed for everything to be alright. For… a happily ever after, I suppose.”
Charles nodded slowly and his heart filled with sympathy. He'd not truly stopped to consider the effect her upbringing had had on her and as he looked at her now, there was something wistful about her.
“I hope you find it,” he offered softly and she tightened her hold on his arm with a smile. “I am sure I will.”
They toured the rest of the manor in relative silence, though Charles could see clearly on Abigail's face that she took in everything he mentioned. As they reached the back of the house, he paused at a set of French doors.
“And now for the gardens,” he said proudly as he pushed the doors open. “My pride and joy. Of course I do have a gardener, but now and then I quite like being involved here.”
Abigail's eyes widened as she stepped out onto the terrace, and Charles beamed proudly. He knew that the gardens were something to be quite proud of — after his father's death, it had been where he'd found his solace when he needed it, when the realities of being a duke felt as though they might constrict him.
“Charles,” Abigail gasped next to him. “It is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he said simply, though he glanced at her with gratitude. It was not everyone who appreciated the beauty of the gardens as he did.
As they strolled along the paths, Charles made sure to point out various plants and features. It was as they rounded a corner that Abigail suddenly stopped short and a gasp escaped her lips.
Before them stood an enormous weeping willow, the leaves dancing slowly as the wind moved through them.
“It is breathtaking,” she whispered as she stepped closer to the tree. Charles watched as she reached out to touch the trailing leaves, her face alight with joy. A warmth spread throughout his chest at the sight, but he pushed it aside quickly.
“A garden full of flowers, and you are most impressed by an old tree,” he teased and Abigail laughed as she looked back at him.
“The flowers are beautiful,” she admitted, returning her gaze to the tree. “But this… it is simply majestic, is it not?”
“It is quite something, I admit,” Charles agreed with a grin. “And it has been here for as long as I can remember. I would like to know how old it is, but to find out I would have to cut it down and…”
“Do not dare,” Abigail interrupted him quickly. “I will protect it with my life.”
Charles could not stop the laughter that fell from his lips at this. “Is my wife a tree-hugging savage?” he teased and she looked at him with a lifted brow.
“Surely you expected nothing less,” she retorted quickly and it took everything he had not to clap his hands at her quick wit.
“I doubt that anyone could ever expect all you are, my lady,” he responded simply and she let out a soft laugh.
“A safe answer,” she whispered as she took his arm once more. “One is not quite certain whether it is an insult or a compliment.”
