Page 53 of The Duke and his Hellion
“Not quite yet,” he teased. “You have had an awful day — I think the first thing you ought to do is rest.”
Leaving no room for argument, he led her to her bedchamber — waiting by the door until he saw her climbing into bed and drifting away.
CHAPTER26
When Abigail stirred from her nap, it was nearly sundown. She stretched and looked around, her heart skipping a beat when she remembered what had led to the nap. The dowager duchess had gone.
Relief coursed through her as she stepped out of the bed, her brows lifting when she noticed the small bundle in front of her bedchamber door. Curious, she padded over and picked it up, unfolding the note on top of it.
When you wake, put this on and meet me in my study. C.
An intrigued smile settled across her lips and she unwrapped the bundle — the smile disappearing to make room for a confused frown when she lifted a dress from it.
The fabric was coarse — a far cry from the fine silks and muslin she was accustomed to wearing. In fact, Abigail thought as she looked at the dress, it looked quite like something a maid would wear on her night off.
“What on earth?” she murmured as she ran her fingers over the rough material. Despite her bewilderment, however, she could not deny that she was quite intrigued. Quickly, she changed into the dress and she released a surprised breath. It was light — unrestrictive and quite different from her usual attire.
She changed her hair into a quick braid before rushing to Charles's study, a thrill of excitement coursing through her as she knocked on the study door.
“Come in,” Charles's voice rang out and Abigail stopped in her tracks when she opened the door and noticed him. Charles looked unlike she'd ever seen him before.
Gone were his tailored coat and cravat. Instead, he wore simple breeches and a shirt of rough linen. Even his hair was slightly mussed — as though he'd run his hands through it.
“Charles?” Abigail said, unable to keep the confusion out of her voice. “What… what is going on?”
A grin appeared on Charles's face and for the first time she saw a mischievous glint in his eyes. “We are going on an adventure,” he said simply and she gestured down at their clothes.
“What kind of an adventure?”
There was something reckless about the way he smiled and he laughed softly — presumably at the expression of utter confusion on her face.
“You'll see,” he said simply, before taking her hand and leading her down a back entrance.
“This is the servants' entrance,” he explained in a lower voice. He offered no further explanation and Abigail's heart raced as they slipped out into the warm evening air.
“Where are we going?” she asked softly, and Charles laughed. “To town,” he said with a glance down at her. “To see how the other half lives.”
It was a far cry from duchess lessons, but Abigail decided to refrain from questioning it, instead, enjoying the brisk air as he led her through the bustling streets of the town.
For Abigail, it felt as though she had stepped into another world. The air was thick with the scents of cooking food and woodsmoke, the streets alive with people merely going about their business — hardly noticing the pair of them as Charles guided her through the crowds.
The sound of a lively tune made Abigail turn her head and she looked with mild surprise at the band of street musicians. To her astonishment, Charles pulled her into a small square where several couples were already twirling to the music — their movements upbeat and quick.
“Shall we?” Charles asked as he looked down at her, offering his hand with an exaggerated bow.
Abigail let out a laugh — a sound of pure joy that she hadn't heard from herself in weeks. “We shall,” she replied impulsively, taking his offered hand.
She gasped in surprise when he led her into a frantic set of movements, spinning and twirling with him to the sound of the lively music, with not a single step as structured as the dances she was used to, though it was certainly far more enjoyable. Her heart skipped a beat when Charles pulled her fast against his chest before twirling with her again, all thoughts of proper etiquette and societal expectations dissipating, forgotten in the joy of the moment.
As the music came to an end, Charles led her towards a small inn, glancing down at her with a wink. “Thirsty?”
She nodded, unable to speak, her breath severely lacking. Inside, the inn was warm and noisy — filled with lively chatter and the clinking of tankards. Charles moved as though it was an everyday occurrence for him to enter an inn like this — leading her to a small table in the corner. He winked at her.
“I am going to fetch us drinks,” he explained. “Wait here.”
Abigail nodded, looking around in wonder at the sights and sounds of what felt like an entirely different world. The people seemed so free, she could not help but notice. So entirely unburdened by the strict rules of society — and the eyes of the ton.
Charles returned rather quickly — two foaming tankards in his hand. He handed her one and she took a sip immediately, coughing at the strangeness of the taste, her nose wrinkling.
