Chapter 21

As Bridget stormed outside, her fury fueling her steps, the cool night air brushed against her flushed face, causing her heart to race with different emotions.

Confusion enveloped her. She couldn't comprehend why she had allowed herself to get so incensed by the Duke. She scolded herself for venturing out alone in an unfamiliar place at this late hour, fully aware of the impropriety it entailed.

At that moment, she realized a part of her hoped that Abel would come after her. After all, it was he who had driven her to take this perilous step, driven by his own frustration. It seemed only fitting that he should bear the responsibility of ensuring her safety, of making amends for his actions.

The mere thought of being outside with him caused her cheeks to burn in delight and anticipation. As she realized her train of thought, her cheeks got hotter, and she shook off such foolish notions.

No, she didn't want him to come. That was her reason for leaving in the first place. She needed distance from him. He was infuriating, and she couldn't be around him.

With that resolve, she attempted to steady herself, doing her best not to listen for the sound of his footsteps behind her, but to no avail.

"Lady Bridget!"

At last, Abel's voice pierced through the night, reverberating with urgency. Bridget's heart skipped a beat, and she struggled with the excitement that filled her instantly.

She knew she should ignore him, walk right around and past him to return to the ball, but her feet betrayed her, carrying her further into the darkness of the gardens nearby.

The exhilaration of his pursuit coursed through her veins as she heard his feet patter after her, mingling with the apprehension that danced in her chest.

"Stop, Bridget!"

His voice echoed behind her, laced with desperation. Still, she quickened her pace, her heart racing beyond control. The moonlight cast an ethereal glow on her, illuminating the delicate lace of her gown and the determination etched on her face.

As they finally arrived at the enchanting garden center, Bridget's breaths came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving.

The gardens sprawled before them, vibrant colors and intoxicating scents all around. Blossoms were in every corner, and the soft murmur of a nearby fountain added a soothing melody to the air.

Abel's gaze swept across the surroundings, his eyes vigilant, seeming to search for signs of danger or another presence. His expression turned to one of annoyance and frustration as he turned his attention back to her, his voice tinged with authority.

"You have no worthy reason for stepping out, Lady Bridget," Abel admonished, his tone firm and unwavering. "You are acting irresponsibly, putting yourself at risk."

At last, Bridget had him all alone. Her heart thumped louder than ever in his presence. Before he could say anything else, she spoke, her tone filled with frustration.

"Why the rush to marry all of a sudden, Your Grace?"

Abel's eyes flickered with surprise then annoyance. He retorted sharply, returning the question. "And what about you? What was the reason you chose to make such haste? Mingling with gentlemen you barely know, clearly desperate for attention?"

"I shall say that is none of your business, Your Grace," Bridget countered, her voice dripping with defiance.

Abel scoffed and shook his head, a sardonic smile curling his lips. His frustration was evident in each word. "Oh, the irony!"

Unable to contain his agitation, he began pacing back and forth, his steps quick and restless. Bridget watched him, her irritation growing with each passing moment. His constant movement only heightened her anxiety, fueling the fire of her anger.

She dropped her head in her hands and let out a loud groan. "Why won't you just admit it, Abel?! Must we go back and forth so many times? Just admit it." Her eyes flicked back to him, burning with intensity. "We have a connection that cannot be denied!"

Coupled with her addressing him by his first name, her straightforwardness seemed to catch him off-guard, and Abel stopped in his tracks. Met with the intensity of her gaze, he found himself at a loss for words.

"I—You—We do not?—"

"Then why are you out here with me? You could have informed my parents of my whereabouts. Why did you kiss me? Tell me, why won't you admit that you feel something for me?"

Abel shook his head, yet his words continued to fail him as he tried to formulate a response.

"I-I don't—Y-You do not?—"

His frustration mounted, and he let out another anguished groan, attempting to gather his thoughts. Finally, his words erupted from him in a passionate outburst.

"Look at what you do to me! You've turned me into a mumbling pigeon!" he sputtered as he gestured to himself. "You shouldn't be here, Bridget!" His voice reverberated with desperation and anger.

"You were to be far, far away, out of sight, and out of my mind for good!"

Bridget's heart raced in her chest, the weight of his words hanging in the air, mingling with their heavy breaths.

The garden seemed to hold its breath, as if anticipating the outcome of their intense exchange.

"Why am I on your mind, Your Grace?" Her voice was steady and quiet as her gaze remained fixed on him.

Abel's eyes met hers briefly, but the intensity in her gaze turned him away, his resolve wavering. He began to sputter again, knowing that he had been caught yet still refusing to admit the depth of his feelings. But Bridget would not be deterred.

"Tell me," she insisted, her strength unwavering. "Why must you deny what we shared? Why must you dismiss it as a mistake?"

His gaze flickered, and his eyes did not meet hers as he spoke, "I am bound by duty, by the expectations of Society. I can in no terms marry you, as I need a perfect duchess, one who can fulfill the role expected of her."

Abel's words pierced Bridget's heart like a cruel dagger, leaving her feeling deeply offended and crushed. Though a part of her acknowledged the truth in his words, she couldn't deny the weight of his rejection.

In the stunned silence that followed, she struggled to find her voice. How could she respond to such callousness? But as the shock subsided, she snapped as a sudden rage ignited within her.

"Well then, Your Grace, I wish you the utmost success in your quest to find the perfect duchess you so desire." Her words dripped anger. "May you find someone who meets all your lofty expectations."

With those parting words, she turned on her heel in the direction of the ballroom, her head held high.

But before she could get much further, Abel's voice cut through the air again, stopping her in her tracks.

"I must know before you leave," he called out, his voice tinged with a sudden desperation. "Will you accept Lord William's suit?"

Bridget's eyes simmered with her rage as she swiveled around and plastered a tight smile on her face.

"It depends. I refuse to waste my time on a man unless it's for a love that embraces me for who I am, scandalous past and all." The sarcasm dripping off her tone was venomous. "Then again, it's none of your business, Your Grace."

"I realize now that it is my business, indeed." Abel raised an eyebrow at her, his voice firm. "After all, with Olivia marrying into your family, our lives are now intertwined. Whatever you do affects?—"

"Just let me be, Abel!" Bridget let out an exasperated groan, her frustration bursting out at last. Her voice rose with each word. "I am tired of your constant interference and judgment. I do not need your approval or your meddling!"

Her eyes narrowed, her frustration evident as her voice rose even more in disbelief. "Pray tell, how does this make any sense? You seem so irritated about my getting married, yet you certainly do not wish to marry me!"

"Oh, I am most certainly not irritated. I merely have the desire to know who you are joining your life with. I have given you my reason why, and it stands," Abel retorted, his voice tinged with defensiveness.

Bridget scoffed and shook her head. "You claim not to be irritated, yet your actions speak otherwise. My marriage would have little effect on you, and we both know it." Her eyes narrowed. "Thus, once again, if you truly have no feelings for me, why do you care about whom I marry?"

Frustration laced every word she spoke. "I demand the truth, Your Grace. Why were you so upset when you saw me dancing with Lord William? Why did you kiss me and then run away? And why, for heaven's sake, can you not marry me?"

Her words hung in the air, each question a dangerous tug at Abel's heart. He could see the hurt in her eyes, the confusion etched on her face. He had the answers, yet his lips refused to utter them.

"Lady Bridget?—"

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his thoughts, trying to find the right words to soothe the pain in her eyes. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. However, before he could utter a single syllable, her impatience got the better of her.

"No more evasions," she insisted, her voice desperate and angry. "I won't let you off the hook this time."

Abel sighed and shook his head, his frustration building. "Bridget, if you would just let me speak?—"

"No!" Her yell doubled the tension in the air. "Again, these are simple questions, Your Grace."

"Bridget—" His voice trembled slightly as he avoided her gaze.

"Tell me the truth of why you had such a reaction upon seeing me with Lord William," she demanded.

"Bridget, I am trying to explain?—"

But her voice rose again as she added, "The truth! Tell me why you kissed me and then disappeared without a word. Tell me why you cannot marry me!"

"Because I love you, Bridget!"

At last, Abel's facade came crumbling down under the weight of his emotions. His chest heaved with the relief that overtook him nearly instantly.

"I cannot marry you because I am in love with you."

The garden fell into a hushed stillness as his words bounced around the center, each syllable echoing in Bridget's ears.

Her heart raced, her mind struggling to comprehend the magnitude of what she had just heard. She was stunned and breathless, excitement filling her system.

Her voice barely above a whisper, she asked, "You love me? Truly?"

Abel's eyes met hers, his gaze filled with a mix of longing and resignation. He nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

"Yes, Bridget. I love you. I love you with every fiber of my being." His jaw tightened. "But I made a promise to myself, a vow I cannot break. I swore I would never marry the woman I love."

At those words, Bridget's heart plummeted, her mind spinning with confusion. Her heart wrestled with conflicting emotions as she stood before him, uncertain how to respond.

"Do you understand now? We cannot be together. You must stay away from me, find someone who can give you what you deserve."

Bridget remained silent. She knew she should heed his warning, distance herself from this confusing man even without his warning. Yet, the pull between them was too strong, the desire to understand his reasons overpowering her better judgment.

Her legs acted of their own accord, and she took a step forward, her gaze never leaving his. She wanted to hear those three words once more—she didn't care about anything else.

Her heart fluttered with each step she took towards him, her eyes locked on his with an intensity that spoke volumes.

Abel's voice was filled with longing as he implored her, "Lady Bridget, I beseech you, do not do this. You must return to the safety of the ballroom."

Yet, his own feet remained rooted in place, unable to resist the magnetic pull between them either.

Bridget's voice trembled as she took another step towards him. "I want to hear you say it again, please. Tell me that you love me."

"I warn you, you must not do this." There was no denying the lust and longing in his gaze despite the warning in his voice. "Lady Bridget, I beg you." His eyes burned with desire as he watched her. "Do not take another step. If you do, I will kiss you."

At this, Bridget hesitated, her eyes filled with nervousness and anticipation. Her heart raced, its rhythm matching the intensity of the moment.

She knew the risks, the potential consequences of succumbing to their desires, but she no longer cared.

Summoning every ounce of courage, she took that final step, her gaze fixed on Abel's. But before she could land, he closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in an instantly passionate and electrifying kiss.

In a flash, they were entwined in each other's arms, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony. Lost in the intensity of their kiss, time and place were forgotten.

Abel's hands, guided by desire, hastily explored every curve and contour of her body, eliciting soft moans that escaped her lips without her even realizing.

The desire between them was palpable, their wants mirrored in their movements. Bridget succumbed to his intensity, letting him take her in whole. She could sense his reciprocated desire, a burning hunger that matched her own.

The pleasure coursing through her veins was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was as if the world had ceased to exist, and at that moment, for the first time, she felt truly alive.

"What atrocity!!"

"It's Lady Bridget Fadden!! And the Duke of Galway!"

"Your Grace?!"

The sudden interruption shattered the blissful bubble that Abel and Bridget had created. Startled, they sprang apart, their eyes widening in alarm as they faced the three older ladies from the ball who had caught them in this compromising position.

The women, all married and of high society, stood there with a mix of shock and judgment etched on their faces. Behind them, their daughters cowered, their eyes telling of shock and accusation as well.

It was clear that these women had ventured out to find Abel, hoping to secure introductions for their eligible daughters. Their desperation to marry off their daughters to the Duke was evident.

Bridget's heart pounded as the weight of the situation pressed upon her. The scandal that would inevitably ensue would spread like wildfire through the ton.

Right as she expected it, the shock on the women's faces quickly turned to disdainful glares directed at her—the woman who had dared to entangle herself with the esteemed Duke.

Her heart raced as she turned back to Abel, fear and hope in her eyes. Only he could take charge of the situation, to clear both their names and salvage their reputations.

But to her dismay, he stood frozen, his shock evident on his face as he kept silent.

The realization he was now caught in a scandal bore down on Abel, threatening to crush him under its suffocating grip. His mind flew in all directions, searching for a way to rectify the situation, but his thoughts were a jumbled mess. The accusing stares of the women pierced through him, amplifying his feelings of guilt and shame.

Coupled with Bridget's hopeful stare, his voice caught in his throat, his words trapped by the weight of his emotions. He knew that his next words would shape their fate.

His heart pounded in his chest as he stared back at her, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Shock, regret, and a sense of duty battled within him, threatening to shatter his composure.

He had always prided himself on being a proper gentleman, adhering to the strict rules of Society. And yet, in this single moment of weakness, he had jeopardized Bridget's reputation and his own principles.

Bridget's eyes pleaded with him, silently begging for him to rectify the situation, to declare his intention to marry her and salvage what remained of their honor.

But he could not. He would not.

The weight of his decision bore down on him, his shoulders slumping under the burden. He knew that by denying her the assurance and deliverance she sought, he risked losing her forever.

"Your Grace?" Bridget implored, her voice trembling with a combination of worry and growing frustration. "Please, say something. Declare your love for me once more in front of them. Please."

Abel knew there would be no going back from this. Still, his mind refused to succumb. His voice wavered slightly as he whispered, at last, his eyes unable to meet hers.

"I cannot marry you, Lady Bridget."

The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air as the judgmental gazes of the women remained fixed on them.

Bridget's heart stopped, and for a second, she felt she could not breathe. Finally, she found her breath, and her shock quickly transformed into a heavy rage.

Abel remained silent, his silence a painful confirmation of his statement. The realization hit her like a sharp blow, causing her heart to tremble with disappointment and resentment.

From the look on his face, she knew that, truly, he would not repeat that he loved her, even despite the situation—his resolve was firm.

Bridget's anger surged within her uncontrollably. With one last defiant glare at the judgmental onlookers, she turned away from Abel sharply, her steps purposeful and resolute.

Ignoring the whispers that followed in her wake, she stormed past them all without looking back.