Page 39 of Stealing the Rake's Heart
The first person Abigail saw when she entered the room was none other than Lady Diana Lockwell.
Her heart sank into her boots.
Lady Diana smiled, just a little, and nodded graciously.
“Good morning, Lady Caldecott, good morning, Miss Atwater. I trust you slept well?”
“I didn’t know you were staying here,” Abigail said, before she could stop herself.
Immediately, she wished she could have bitten off her a tongue. It was a hopelessly rude thing to say – before she had even greeted the woman, too – and made her look ill-bred and frankly, impolite.
It was too late to take it back, of course. Abigail’s face burned, and Lady Diana allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.
“There was a problem with my carriage last night,” Lady Diana explained, delicately buttering a scone, “and the dear Dowager kindly invited me to stay overnight. She is so like her youngest son in that respect – kind to a fault.”
The last part seemed rather barbed. Flushing, Abigail leaned over her plate, and concentrated on breakfast.
Gradually, over the next half hour, more people joined the breakfast table, stifling yawns and exchanging stories and gossip. The Dowager Duchess herself arrived, white-faced and looking thoroughly miserable, and Aunt Florence devoted herself to cheering up her friend.
The Duke appeared, but only for a few minutes, with the air of a man performing his duty. He briefly explained that he could not join them for breakfast due to his responsibilities and withdrew as soon as possible.
Abigail steadily ate her way through a much larger breakfast than she would have liked, mostly in hopes of Lady Diana leaving the breakfast room before her. The woman kept glancing at Abigail, her gaze veiled and distinctly unfriendly.
However, it seemed that Lady Diana had the same idea, nursing a cup of tea long after it had gone cold, and showing no signs of leaving the table and retiring to her room.
In the end, it was Aunt Florence who broke the unspoken stalemate.
“What do you plan to do with yourself today, Abigail?” she asked, turning away from the Dowager Duchess. “Mary and I are going to reminisce in the drawing room, so you’ll have to entertain yourself.”
“I…”
“It’s a fine day for a walk,” Lady Diana interrupted smoothly, smiling unblinkingly at Abigail. “Why don’t you take in the air with me, Miss Atwater? There are fine blackberry patches on top of the hill yonder. You may bring your maid with a basket.”
“I… I was going to sit in the library today,” Abigail managed lamely. “I wanted to read a bit.”
“Oh, don’t waste your day with your nose in a book,” Aunt Florence said blithely, unaware of the tension in the room. “Take a walk with Lady Lockwell. That’ll be nice, won’t it?”
Abigail swallowed. There was really nothing for her to say.
“Very well,” she managed, aware that she was being ungracious. “I could do with stretching my legs, I suppose.”
Lady Diana smiled widely. “Oh, I am so glad. I think we have a lot to talk about, you and I.”
Abigail shivered. Nowthatdid not sound good.
***
Abigail had hoped for a last-minute shower of rain to put off their walk, but her prayers were not answered. In fact, the sun came out.
Lady Diana met her at the door, looking breezy, cool, and beautiful in an elegant walking gown and neat kid gloves. Abigail immediately felt blowsy and untidy in her coat and rough straw bonnet. Lady Diana’s gaze flicked up and down her frame, so quickly Abigail thought she might have imagined it. Then the other woman smiled widely, and she knew it wasn’t imagined.
“Shall we go?” Lady Diana said, still smiling. “I shall warn you, I walk quickly. You seem rather shorter than I, and therefore will have shorter legs. I’m sure you’ll be fine, though.”
There was an insult in there somewhere. Abigail chose to ignore it.
“Is it just you and I, then?”
“Just us,” Lady Diana responded. She glanced briefly over at Lucy, who hovered behind them, looking deeply uncomfortable. Lady Diana hooked her arm through Abigail’s, tugging her out of the door without any further ado.
