Page 7 of The Duke and his Hellion
“I do not want to lie to him,” she explained quickly. “It is just… I know my brother. He is, has always been, so protective. Just… let me tell him once I have learnt a thing or two about the ton?”
She looked at Harriet pleadingly. “Please, Harriet. You know how Hugh feels about the ton.”
“Alright,” Harriet said at last. “I won't tell him — but you cannot wait too long to do it, Abby. Who is it?”
Abigail hesitated, then closed her eyes. “It… it is the Duke of Grouton,” she admitted at last. To Harriet's credit, she did not show her surprise. Her face remained impassive — the only signal that the news came as a shock being the slight arch of her brow.
“I see,” Harriet said simply. “Well, it is rather kind of him to offer to teach you some things,” she managed to get out.
Abigail felt a rush of emotion, her eyes stinging with tears as she threw her arms around Harriet once more, hugging her fiercely. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against Harriet's shoulder. “Thank you for everything.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, drawing strength and comfort from each other's presence. And then, with a final squeeze of Harriet's hand, Abigail stood, a look of determination settling over her features.
“I should get some rest,” she said, her voice steady and calm. “Tomorrow will be a big day, and I need to be ready for whatever it brings.”
Harriet nodded, a small smile playing about her lips. “Of course, Abby. Get some sleep, and try not to worry too much. We'll face whatever comes together, you and me.”
Abigail nodded, a rush of warmth and love flooding through her as she made her way towards the door.
CHAPTER5
The next morning, Abigail awoke with a start, her heart racing with anticipation as she remembered what the day held in store. Today was the day that her lessons with the Duke of Grouton would begin.
With a giddy smile, she put on a flowy dress before rushing downstairs where Harriet was already seated at the table. At the sight of Abigail's flushed cheeks and bright eyes, Harriet raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing about her lips.
“Well, someone's in a good mood this morning,” she teased, gesturing for Abigail to join her. “I take it you're looking forward to your... lessons today?”
Abigail blushed, ducking her head as she slid into her seat. “Is it that obvious?” she asked, reaching for a pastry and putting it on her plate before delicately breaking it into smaller pieces with her fork.
Harriet chuckled, shaking her head. “Only to someone who knows you as well as I do, Abby. You're practically glowing with excitement. It is a good thing Hugh left for work already — he'd definitely be curious about your sunny disposition.”
Abigail took a sip of her tea, trying to compose her features into a mask of calm indifference. But try as she might, she could not seem to keep the smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth, the eager light from shining in her eyes.
“I just... I feel like this is my chance, Harriet,” she said softly, setting down her cup and meeting her sister-in-law's gaze. “My chance to prove myself, to show the ton that I am more than just some provincial girl with no breeding or refinement.”
Harriet reached across the table, clasping Abigail's hand in her own. “Oh, Abby,” she murmured, her eyes soft with understanding. “You have nothing to prove, not to anyone. You are a bright, beautiful, kind-hearted young woman, and anyone who can't see that is a fool.”
Abigail reached out a hand and took Harriet's, giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you,” she whispered simply and Harriet smiled back at her. Before either of them could speak again, a sudden knock sounded at the door, followed by the butler's solemn announcement.
“His Grace, the Duke of Grouton, has arrived, my ladies.”
Abigail's heart leapt into her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears as she rose to her feet, smoothing her skirts with trembling hands. Harriet stood as well, a reassuring smile on her face as she looped her arm through Abigail's and guided her towards the door.
Abigail took a steadying breath as they stepped into the hallway. And there, standing in the foyer with his hat in his hands and a roguish grin on his face, was the Duke of Grouton himself.
“Lady Abigail, Your Grace,” he said, bowing low over their outstretched hands. “Thank you for receiving me this morning.”
Harriet inclined her head, a polite smile on her face. “Thank you for coming, Your Grace.”
Charles quickly turned his attention to Abigail and she felt her face flush. “Your Grace,” she muttered, and he nodded at her. “You look lovely, my lady,” he said simply and a grin settled around her lips.
“Shall we adjourn to the gardens?” Harriet interrupted the moment. “It's such a lovely day, and I thought it might be pleasant to take a turn about the grounds while you and Abigail... talk.”
Charles nodded, a small smile settling around his lips. “An excellent idea, my lady. Lead the way.”
As they stepped out into the sunlit gardens, Abigail felt a rush of nerves, her stomach fluttering with butterflies as she fell into step beside Charles. For a moment, they walked in silence, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the distant twittering of birdsong.
Then, with a sidelong glance at Abigail, Charles cleared his throat. “I wonder if your sister-in-law knows the extent of our arrangement,” he said simply and her face flushed.
