Page 38 of Never Dare a Duke
Gwen sent a secret smile Abigail’s way.
“Oh, he is simply being friendly,” Abigail quickly demurred. But inside she felt a thrill of triumph. How could Madingley complain to her, when their false courtship was a success?
Miss Bury smiled. “So has he mentioned marriage, my dear?”
Abigail coughed to cover a laugh. “No, Miss Bury, of course not. Trust me, it will never be like that between us.”
“But Miss Shaw—”
“Aunt Imogene,” Gwen interrupted. “You are one to talk about men.”
“What do you mean?” Miss Bury asked, although her wrinkled face suffused with a blush.
Gwen leaned forward conspiratorially. “You seem to be spending much time with Mr. Fitzwilliam.”
“When he isn’t dozing,” Miss Bury said fondly. “Ah, there is much history between us. Such wild things we used to do when we were young.”
Gwen and Abigail exchanged an incredulous look. They thought they’d hidden it well, until Miss Bury tsked.
“You girls can’t believe we were always old and boring.”
“Then why didn’t you marry him?” Gwen asked.
Miss Bury’s smile faded into one of sweet bitterness, the sort that had faded over time into quiet acceptance. “Because I didn’t think I loved him. Sometimes I don’t know what I was looking for. Sometimes I wish I’d been smarter. And sometimes,” she said over her shoulder as she walked to the door, “I think I made the correct choice. My life has been a good one. But the future…ah, who can see what it holds…for any of us.”
When she had gone, the two young women looked at each other in surprise.
Abigail mused, “I don’t know whether to be sad for her or to feel envious of her peace of mind.”
“At least she made her own decisions, and she can live with that. I have to rely on amanto come forward and show interest.” Gwen pouted. “Oh, Abby, I don’t know what to do! Mr. Wesley does not even notice me as a woman! I am simply a ghost-hunting companion.”
“Gwen, I do not believe that. I have seen the way he looks at you, the way he blushes.”
Her eyes lit with happiness. “Really?”
Abigail wasn’t sure she wanted a man blushing when he looked at her. Smoldering eyes seemed so much more interesting…she caught herself too late. She was not going to think about smoldering Spanish eyes.
“Gwen, perhaps the costume dance tomorrow will help. He’ll see you in a different light.”
“Oh, that is a good plan. I cannot wait to see what is in the attics!”
“Nor I,” Abigail said firmly.
Gwen cocked her head. “Ah, but you plan to look for more than a costume up there.”
She shrugged. “We’ll see…”
Christopher was in the breakfast room early with most of the other men before the fishing expedition he’d been coerced into attending. Dawn had just broken, and the men seemed to stumble wearily to the sideboard to make their selections.
He had just turned away with his own plate when, like sudden sunshine, Abigail stepped into the room and hesitated.
Her yellow dress was demure, clear up to the lace collar at her neck, but it could not hide the generous curves of her body. He’d been too close to those curves just last night and come away with nothing more than an innocent touch of skin. But it had fueled a restless night full of fantasies, and he was impatient with his susceptibility to her when he had more important things to obsess over. She was a young lady of Society, and he never let himself have but a thought of temptation, quickly discarded where a marriage-minded woman was concerned. But the mystery of Abigail necessitated a different approach. And a lying woman was not an innocent miss.
She stood on her toes and peered as if she were looking for someone in particular. Her eyes passed over him, then sharply came back.
And even as she lifted her chin with defiance, the sweetest blush came over her face.
Sweetest? Why was he allowing his thoughts to soften toward her? It was one thing to woo her secrets from her, but he could not fall prey to his own machinations.
