Chapter 22

The following day dawned with a sense of purpose and anticipation for Abel Wareham. He stepped into his carriage, the polished wood gleaming in the morning light, as he embarked on the frightening journey before him.

He planned to ask for Bridget's hand in marriage.

As the carriage rolled through the bustling streets, his thoughts swirled with conflicting emotions. He repeated to himself that this was merely a duty, a practical and expected decision.

However, deep down, a flicker of excitement danced within him. In a few hours, she would be his fiancée. The prospect of claiming her as his own made his heart soar.

The carriage pressed on, traversing the winding path towards Borthwell Estate. Abel's anticipation grew with every passing minute, his mind conjuring images of what their shared future would be like.

Finally, the carriage came to a halt before the grand entrance of the Fadden home. Abel took a deep breath, steadying himself for the momentous path ahead. With a surge of determination, he stepped out onto the cobblestone pathway, his footsteps echoing with purpose.

This time, there was no welcome party waiting to receive him. After the servants went off to announce his arrival to the household, he made his way to the opulent drawing room.

The servants whispered amongst themselves as they bowed in his direction and passed by, their curious gazes causing him to lower his head to avoid their scrutiny. Finally, amidst the hushed murmurs, a voice cut through the air.

"Your Grace."

Startled, Abel lifted his head to find Lady Borthwell standing before him, curiosity evident on her face.

A smile slowly graced the Countess's face, and Abel, ever the gentleman, swiftly rose to his feet, extending the customary greeting. "Lady Borthwell, it is a pleasure to see you again."

"Indeed, likewise."

She returned his greeting with a warm smile, her eyes fixed on him with a hint of curiosity. The silence that followed between them was uncomfortable, the weight of her gaze making him uneasy.

Ruth parted her lips, ready to speak again, but before she could utter a word, he interjected in a solemn tone.

"I beg your forgiveness, Lady Borthwell, for the stain I have cast upon Lady Bridget's reputation," he apologized, his tone laced with regret. "My base desires overpowered my reason. I hope you and your family can find it in your hearts to forgive me for my transgressions."

Ruth's gaze bored into Abel, her eyes piercing with intensity as she inspected him. With firmness in her voice, she cut straight to the point.

"Why have you really graced us with your presence this day, Your Grace?"

Abel inhaled deeply, steeling himself for the moment of truth. With unwavering resolve, he declared his purpose for the first time, his voice carrying the weight of his convictions.

"Lady Borthwell, I have come to do what is right. I have come to seek your daughter's hand in marriage."

Ruth clapped her hands together in sheer joy, and she let out a delighted squeal, her eyes sparkling with delight. "I knew it! I knew you were in love with Bridget!"

Abel felt his cheeks flush, wondering if his emotions had been so evident. Part of him longed to deny it, but he knew deep down that he was too deep in to do so.

At last, he cleared his throat, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he spoke, "Well, the situation and its circumstances demanded this union. My sense of honor and duty compel me to be here."

Ruth's eyebrow arched, her disappointment evident as her expression faltered. She hesitated, her gaze fixed on him.

"Is that truly the manner in which you wish to present your proposal to my daughter?"

Abel furrowed his brow, his confusion evident as he scratched his head. "I apologize, Lady Borthwell. I find myself at a loss. What do you mean?"

Ruth let out a weary sigh and waved her hand in the air. "No matter," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "Do not trouble yourself further."

A tiny, tired smile flickered across her face, a glimmer of warmth amidst her weariness. "I do wish you the best of luck. May things work out in the way that both you and Bridget desire."

Abel's confusion lingered, but he nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you."

"Your Grace," Leonard's familiar voice called out, capturing Abel's attention.

Abel turned towards Bridget's father and nodded in acknowledgment. "Good day, Lord Borthwell," he greeted politely, doing his best to calm his nerves.

Leonard returned the pleasantries with a polite smile. "I trust you are well, Your Grace. What a delight it is to find you have graced us with your presence again," he spoke, his tone respectful yet tinged with a hint of curiosity.

As Ruth excused herself from their presence, her departure accompanied by a final smile directed at Abel, he was left with a multitude of emotions swirling within him.

With Ruth's departure, his focus shifted back to Leonard. There was a sense of urgency in his eyes as he spoke, his voice laced with determination. "Lord Borthwell, there is an important matter I must discuss with you."

Leonard's swift nod indicated his readiness to listen. "Of course, Your Grace," he replied, his voice steady and composed. "Please, accompany me to my study. We can discuss the matter in private."

As they made their way towards Leonard's study, the grandeur of the estate surrounding them seemed to fade into the background. The weight of their conversation loomed heavily, the air thick with anticipation.

Abel's heart pounded in his chest, a symphony of nerves and anticipation as he walked alongside him towards the study.

When they entered the study, Leonard gestured for him to take a seat, his expression tight with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Abel gathered his courage, taking a deep breath before he began to speak.

"I must start by apologizing, Lord Borthwell," he started, his voice filled with sincerity. "I deeply regret the shame I brought upon your family with the liberties I took with Lady Bridget."

A pause hung in the air, stretching the tension between them. Abel continued, his voice steady but laced with remorse. "I took advantage of her, and it is only right that I fulfill my duty as a gentleman by marrying her. So, I have come today to ask for her hand."

Leonard's face registered a profound surprise, his features momentarily frozen in astonishment.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of it nearly deafening. Abel could not decipher Leonard's thoughts from the expression on his face, leaving him uncertain and agitated.

Time seemed to move slower as the silence enveloped them, each passing second amplifying the intensity of the moment.

Leonard's smile finally broke through, a glimmer of approval shining in his eyes as he nodded at Abel. "I am pleased to see that you possess such integrity, Your Grace."

But then, silence fell between them, heavy with uncertainty.

Leonard sighed, his expression shifting with contemplation. "However," he continued, "I cannot accept your proposal at this moment."

Abel's heart stuttered at Leonard's words, the weight of disappointment settling upon him like a heavy shroud. Numbness coursed through his veins, leaving him momentarily speechless.

This was not at all the answer he had anticipated, and the unexpectedness of his response left him reeling.

"It must be Bridget's decision alone, whether or not to accept your proposal," Leonard explained, his tone laced with caution.

Abel's eyes widened, and he instinctively leaned back in his chair as he absorbed the gravity of the man's words. The realization dawned on him that his fate now rested in Bridget's hands.

A wave of uncertainty washed over him, leaving him at a loss for words. All he could do was nod, acknowledging the unexpected turn of events.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Leonard called in a servant, his voice carrying authority and anticipation. "Go fetch Lady Bridget. Tell her to make haste to my study."

As the servant hurried off to carry out Leonard's request, Abel found himself unable to sit still. Restlessness consumed him, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

The mere thought of seeing Bridget again stirred a longing deep within his heart. He knew she was still harboring anger towards him, but he chose to hold onto the belief that his proposal would mend the rift between them.

Millions of possibilities danced in his mind, each one fueling his anticipation. His mind pictured the next moment—Bridget would learn of his heartfelt intentions, and all her anger would melt away to be replaced by understanding and forgiveness.

Within the next few minutes, she would become his fiancée, and the very thought filled him with an overwhelming sense of joy.

"Father, you called?"

The sound of Bridget's voice echoed through the room, causing Abel's heart to race in his chest. He swiftly rose from his seat, his eyes eagerly seeking hers.

As their gazes locked, he witnessed a myriad of emotions flicker across her face, her eyes widening in astonishment.

But just as quickly as the expressions appeared, her demeanor shifted to one of nonchalance, diverting her attention back to her father.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as Leonard acknowledged the call, confirming that he had indeed summoned her. He paused, hinting at the gravity of his next words.

"I'll go straight to the point. The Duke is here to ask for your hand."

Abel watched the surprise wash over her, her eyes widening in disbelief. In that instant, she turned to him, their gazes locking once more, her unspoken thoughts conveyed through a single look.

Her eyes flicked back to her father. The weight of the decision now rested on Bridget's shoulders, her father granting her the agency to choose her own path.

Abel's heart swelled with a mix of hope and trepidation as he witnessed the gravity of the moment. The unspoken connection between them held an unspoken promise, a shared understanding that this decision would shape their futures.

In that charged moment, Abel found himself holding his breath, waiting for Bridget's response. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if the very walls yearned to know the outcome. The fate of their love hung in the balance, intertwined with the choices that Bridget would soon make.

"The decision is ultimately yours to make, Bridget." Leonard met her shock with a smile. "The power to accept this proposal rests solely in your hands, should you so desire."

Bridget's astonishment was high. With genuine appreciation, a grateful smile graced her face, directed towards her father, acknowledging the trust he had bestowed upon her.

Finally, her gaze, heavy with intensity, locked onto Abel's as she asked quietly, "Is it true? Do you truly wish to marry me?"

Abel's heart raced in his chest, the weight of his duty pressing down upon him. He met her searching eyes and replied, his voice steady and certain, "Yes, it is true. Marrying you has become an inevitable duty that I must fulfill, regardless of my personal wishes or desires."

Bridget's eyes widened for a fleeting moment, the gravity of the statement sinking in. The seconds turned into an agonizing silence, each passing moment pregnant with unspoken emotions.

Finally, she broke the stillness, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze now fixed on the ground.

"Duty?"

Abel nodded slowly, his heart beating fast. "Yes," he affirmed. "It is the right thing to do."

Bridget's sudden laughter sliced through the air, leaving Abel stunned and bewildered. After a slightly long cackle, he watched in disbelief as she lifted her eyes to meet his, her gaze now burning with fury.

The sight caught him off guard, his mind racing to comprehend the reason behind her anger. Before he could utter a word, she swiftly redirected her gaze back to her father.

With a resolute tone, she declared, "Father, I will not marry this man."

Abel's heart plummeted, his jaw dropping in shock. His mind spun with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, unable to process the unexpected turn of events.

He turned his gaze to Bridget's father, who simply nodded, his own astonishment evident.

In that tense and charged moment, Abel's world seemed to crumble around him. Confusion and disbelief mingled with a sense of loss as the future he had envisioned shattered before his eyes.

He desperately sought to understand Bridget's sudden change of heart, grappling with his emotions and the weight of the situation, doing his best to think rationally.

Questions swirled in his mind as he tried to make sense of it all. Had he misunderstood her feelings? Had he failed to see the signs of her discontent? The uncertainty gnawed at him.

As the silence hung heavy in the air, his gaze shifted between her and her father, searching for answers that seemed to elude him.

Finally, he seethed with anger and confusion, his emotions swirling like a tempest within him.

"I have to say, Lady Bridget, I believe you are making a grave mistake," he declared, his words dripping with the weight of the scandal at hand.

But Bridget met his gaze with unwavering determination, her eyes locked onto his. Her resolute demeanor only fueled Abel's frustration, and he scoffed at her steadfastness.

"I will not ask you again," he snapped, trying to hide the desperation in his tone. "You must understand, Bridget, if you reject my proposal, your reputation will be irreparably tarnished."

Though he tried to maintain a facade of strength, deep down, he yearned for her to change her mind. He despised the vulnerability he felt, considering himself pathetic for clinging to hope, yet he could not stop himself.

His heart sank as she nodded, her eyes burning with a fierce anger that contrasted with the calmness of her voice.

"I will not be any man's duty," she asserted, her words slicing through the tension in the room. "I was content being alone before, and nothing has changed. I will be perfectly fine without you."

Her words struck Abel like a dagger to the chest, and he felt a desperate urge to hold her back, to declare his love once more. But the words eluded him, trapped within the confines of his throat.

"Lady Bridget—" he began, his voice a mere whisper, but she swiftly interrupted him, cutting him off.

"We have no business together anymore," she declared, her voice resolute. "I will forget you, just as I expect you to forget me."

With those final words, she turned to her father, seeking his dismissal. Leonard nodded in silent agreement, and Abel watched helplessly as she walked away without so much as a backward glance.

As her figure disappeared from sight, his thoughts raced, filled with what-ifs and unanswered questions.

And a deep, terrible, all-consuming regret