Page 66 of Stealing the Rake's Heart
Alexander thought about Hamish’s encouragement regarding Abigail, how he’d tried to get books of poetry for Alexander to woo her with. A lump formed in his throat.
“Thank you,” he managed. “I’ll be sure to pass it on to him. He’ll be pleased to know that not everybody thinks of him as a repulsive degenerate.”
“People are too judgemental, I think. They’re too keen to drag down others. I suppose they think it will make them look better, but it never does.”
Alexander thought immediately of Lady Diana Lockwell, who had spent the walk here whispering in his ear about Abigail, how plain she was, how poorly she dressed, and a variety of silly and downright unkind things Abigail was reported to have said and done to others.
He didn’t believe a word of it, but he did believe the malicious glee that spread across Diana’s face.
Some days, he could hardly believe that he’d once been madly in love with her.
“You’re right,” he said at last. “Cruelty never looks good on anyone.”
He rowed a little further and then rested on the oars, enjoying the bob and swell of the water beneath them. It was deep here, deep and opaque. Strands of river-weed dangled just below the surface, and he wondered how deep it would go. A family of ducks came swimming grandly by, a flock of ducklings paddling furiously in the wake of their parents.
“You know,” Abigail said, after the pause had dragged on comfortably, “Some siblings remind me of ducklings.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Oh? Explain.”
“I mean, they’re comfortable with each other, friendly, seldom seem apart. It’snaturalthat they’re so close. You and your siblings are like that.”
“Not always,” he said, thinking of William. “We aren’t perfect.”
She conceded the point with a nod of her head. There was a wistful expression on her face now. Perhaps Alexander should have waited, to see if she was going to speak, and let her decide whether to further the conversation, but of course Alexander had never been good at making sensible choices.
“What are you thinking of, Abigail?”
Too informal. Far too personal a question, and the use of her first name…
He bit his tongue. It was too late to take anything back, of course. Abigail glanced sharply at him, but she didn’t recoil in horror and demand he take her back to the shore.
“I’m thinking of my sisters,” she said eventually. “I have two, you know. Some girls would love even one sister. I’m lucky, and yet not at all, because my sisters hate me.”
He sucked in a breath. “Oh. Oh, dear.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps hate is a strong word, at least when it comes to Beatrix. My older sister, you know. Beatrix is the oldest, the one who made a fine match, and Scarlett is the baby, the beauty of the family, quite spoiled. Mama was sure I was going to be a boy. Instead, she had another girl, a middle child in a gaggle of females. Quite a disappointment. I’m not mercenary like Beatrix, or pretty and fascinating like Scarlett. I’m not really anything. I’m just… just a wallflower.”
She bit her lip, glancing away. Alexander felt of pang of sympathy.
“You and your siblings, though, you’re all so different,” she continued, gaze fixed on the water shimmering past them. “So comfortable with each other. You love each other, it’s true. I know that my sisters don’t love me. Sometimes I think even my mother…” she trailed off, giving an awkward cough. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you all that. It’s too much. It’s that after what you said about the swing and your father…” she trailed off, looking embarrassed.
Alexander hurried to reassure her.
“No, no, I’m glad. Not… not glad that all that happened to you, of course, but… glad you decided to confide in me. It can be hard, carrying that sort of thing around. It’s like a great heavy backpack that you can’t unload, because Society doesn’t allow us to speak freely to each other. It can be a relief to finally find someone to speak openly to.”
She gave a small, relieved smile. “Yes, I agree.”
“And… for what it’s worth, my relationship with my siblings is not as perfect as you might think. I was closest to my brother, Henry, but now he’s married, I see less of him. My sister, Kat, is the same. It feels like it’s just Will and me these days, and we get on poorly.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Can I ask why?”
He hesitated, toying with the idea of making some vague comment, or changing the subject. It was too shameful to admit. Wasn’t it?
“He’s afraid I’ll end up like Hamish,” Alexander said at last, voice quiet. “A drunken fool who is ruining his reputation and his health day by day. And perhaps William’s fears aren’t entirely unfounded.”
“Oh,” Abigail said, in a small voice. “I see. And… what do you plan to do about it?”
He thought for a moment. Abigail waited patiently for his response. They floated along peacefully, letting the current take them where it chose.
