Chapter 6

"There it is! Lady Bridget, look! I do believe I've spotted the ball over there!"

Bridget's eyes widened with hope, and her head turned before the sarcasm dripping from the Duke's voice registered in her mind. Surely enough, there turned out to be not a ball in sight in the direction he was indicating.

She turned to be met with a smug look on his face and balled her fists to keep from rushing over to him and smacking the expression off his face.

Her irritation was palpable as she glared menacingly at him. "You are truly childish, Your Grace."

The pair had been roaming around the forested areas of Borthwell Estate, where the men were known to go for their hunting expeditions. They were surrounded by towering trees that beckoned with their welcoming branches and the soothing sounds of nature.

But alas, even in such a picturesque setting, Abel and Bridget couldn't seem to find peace between themselves. Since they began their search, their heated exchange filled the air, disrupting the tranquility of their surroundings.

It was as though the beauty of nature completely paled in comparison to the intensity of their animosity.

Abel scoffed, his lips curling into a smug smile. "Childish? Coming from you, Lady Bridget, that is quite the accusation. I'm not the one who makes a fuss over mere flowers."

"Only children hold such grudges, Your Grace. Baseless grudges, at that. You know nothing. You shouldn't speak on what you do not know."

She stuck her nose in the air as she continued walking, searching her surroundings as she did so.

Abel's eyebrow arched inquisitively as he trailed behind her, his voice laced with curiosity. "All right then, tell me. Do the mismatched flowers in your family's garden hold a special significance?"

Bridget's eyes flickered with a mix of irritation and caution as she continued her search. At last, she chose to ignore his question, not even giving him a bodily response.

"Lady Bridget, I asked you a question." Undeterred by her silence, Abel persisted.

But Bridget remained silent. She wouldn't dare risk divulging intimate details to a man like him. The mere mention of the garden's history might lead to discussions about Virginia, and she couldn't bear the weight of explaining all that had transpired to cause her absence.

"I implore you, do not keep me in suspense. I am genuinely intrigued by the tales your family's garden might hold. Surely, you can spare a few moments to enlighten me?" He hesitated. "Except, perhaps there is indeed nothing special at all? And you only wanted to act like a spoilt child because of mere criticism."

Bridget's lips pressed into a thin line as she fought the urge to snap. She kept her cool, however, remembering the issues that may spring from conversing on the matter.

If the Duke didn't already know Virginia's history, she would leave the storytelling for Elliot. She felt it wasn't her place, so she went on quietly searching.

Abel's eyes narrowed in annoyance as he watched her pick through a thicket with a dry branch.

Bridget was more than happy to ignore his existence as she tried not to think of how things had been when Virginia was still here.

It seemed like such a long time ago now, and she had no idea if she would ever see her sister again. With his twisted sense of humor, Abel had opened a wound that she wasn't sure had ever fully healed.

If only she could find the cursed ball, so she could rid herself of his presence. She heard footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder.

Abel's boots crunched on dried leaves as he walked over to a fallen tree branch and sat on it, watching her with a quiet intensity.

Rage boiled inside her, and she forced herself to swallow a thousand words that had gotten lodged on the tip of her tongue.

She knew he was baiting her, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking it was working. Still, her eyes burned angrily like twin forges.

She abandoned her search of the thicket and strode further, picking another section of the forest to search.

Bridget hated how easy it was for the Duke to get to her. While she would never have described herself as docile, she also considered herself cultured and respectful.

However, there was something about Abel that always raised her hackles and made her ignore all the lessons she'd learned about propriety and how to address one's betters.

"How goes your search, Lady Bridget?" Abel called from behind her, interrupting her thoughts.

She bit back her irritation and sighed deeply. She turned to face him, standing with her arms akimbo.

"Your Grace, I was led to believe you are a man of excellent refinement. The standard—if I might add—of every aspiring gentleman of the ton. I believe that such a description of you is completely false, and whoever propagated such a lie should be locked in a dungeon."

He cocked his head, and his lips curled into a lazy grin. He was pleased to finally get a response from her. "My, your words hurt me. And why, might I ask, would you say such a thing? Pray tell."

Bridget walked over to him. "Basic observation. Not only are you quite content to bicker with a woman beneath your station, but you also choose to sit and watch while she does all the work for you. It is a trait unbecoming of any well-meaning gentleman."

"Ah." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "In answer, I say this. As for your first observation, I merely accommodate you, seeing as there's precious little else to do here. Secondly, you seem to be doing so well without me. I merely am trying to stay out of your way, My Lady. I assure you, those things you heard about me are quite true.

"I would have you know that manners are of utmost importance to me. They were lessons that were drilled into me from childhood that I still exhibit to this day."

"Then I am yet to see them, Your Grace," Bridget retorted. "Perhaps if you spent more time being a proper house guest, I'd then have a chance to confirm these things for myself. Instead, you lie when it is utterly unnecessary, just to jest, and you dedicate your time to getting on my nerves. You sit there in comfort when it would be better for us to work together and be done twice as fast. I'm reasonably convinced that you have no interest in leaving this forest."

He frowned at her, deep lines appearing on his forehead. Content that her barb had struck a nerve, she stuck her nose in the air again, turned around, and walked away from him, poking into bushes with her stick as she went.

Abel, slightly exasperated by her distance, called out as he began walking after her again, "Well, as you insist on striding a million feet ahead of me, I was merely demonstrating that being closer to the forest's center does not guarantee a faster discovery of the ball."

Bridget scoffed. "But why is it such a concern of yours how far away I am, Your Grace?" She turned around, her voice mocking. "Are you truly that desperate for my attention?"

Abel's eyes widened as he laughed in disbelief. "Truly, never have I encountered a woman as pompous as you."

He gestured towards their surroundings, his tone instantly turning defensive. "I simply wouldn't want you to trip and ruin your dress, for then I would surely be judged and questioned by your brothers upon our return."

"You can drop the white knight act, Your Grace. I can see right through it," Bridget retorted, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

"It's quite clear that you would indeed relish the sight of me falling flat on my face, considering the way you've been verbally attacking me. So one wouldn't blame my brothers for thinking so if it came to that, would they?"

She fought to suppress a chuckle as she watched his eyes widen even further in disbelief, his features contorted with offense.

With the way things were going, she couldn't help but feel that if he kept making that expression, it might just get permanently stuck. She grinned to herself, relishing the satisfaction from her cutting remark.

"And just who started with the verbal attacks, Lady Bridget?"

"You insulted my family's garden." She nonchalantly waved a hand at him and returned her eyes to the section she had been searching.

"No one else seemed to find my statements such a problem besides you, hence proving my point," he pointed out and shook his head.

Bridget, determined not to let his taunts get the best of her, shot back with a sharp retort. "Your Grace, if you truly believe that, then it'd appear your wit is as empty as the space you pointed me towards just a few minutes ago."

She flashed him another fake smile and clapped her hands lightly. "I suppose it also matches the void where your manners should reside."

His eyes narrowed in annoyance, then, for a split second, a flash of surprise filled his face.

"Ah, Lady Bridget." Bridget felt uncomfortable by the sinister expression on his face. "Always quick with your words. It's a shame your actions can't match your clever tongue. Yet to find the ball, aren't we?"

She scoffed, her delicate brow furrowing as she cast a disapproving glance at him. "And what about you, Your Grace? Have you managed to locate the ball, or have you been merely trailing after me, doing nothing?"

With his eyes sparkling with triumph, Abel pointed a finger behind her and took a few steps towards his winning trophy. "You see, my dear Bridget, while you were busy questioning my efforts, I've taken the liberty of finding the ball myself."

He wore a triumphant, mocking smile that danced on his lips as he stepped up to her.

Rolling her eyes, Bridget still couldn't resist a retort. "Oh, how impressive, Your Grace. I suppose you expect a standing ovation for your grand discovery?"

He chuckled, the sound rich and melodious. "Well, a humble smile of gratitude would suffice. But if you insist on applause, I shall not deny you the pleasure."

"If you're that desperate for applause, Your Grace, I'm certain you'd find quite the sum after joining a circus team." She paused and looked him up and down. "I dare say, you're the type of material they need."

Shocked laughter escaped his lips before he even realized it. "It seems you truly have no respect for anyone, especially not someone of my stature."

"Respect is earned, Your Grace, and so far, you've done nothing to earn mine." Bridget jutted her chin in defiance.

"And you, Lady Bridget, have done nothing but test my patience at every turn." He took a step backward and gestured as he spoke.

"Well, it seems we're at an impasse, Your Grace. Perhaps we should part ways before things escalate further."

He laughed loudly again. "Agreed! I have no desire to waste any more of my time on a woman of your caliber, who?—"

Abel, so engrossed in their verbal sparring, failed to notice the small pond that lay hidden amidst the foliage. Bridget, however, caught a glimpse of his impending misfortune and reacted with lightning speed.

In a desperate attempt to save him from a watery fate, she reached out, her fingers grasping his arm.

"Your Grace, watch your step!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine concern.

But fate, with its twisted sense of humor, intervened. The Duke's weight shifted unexpectedly, causing him to lose his balance, and as he toppled backward, her attempt to pull him back only resulted in both of them falling into a tangled heap.

The air was filled with a cacophony of startled gasps and splashing water. Abel's large body crashed into hers, their limbs entwined in an unexpected position.

"Ugh…" Bridget groaned as he got off her, and she looked down at her clothes.

"Are you all right?" His voice held a hint of concern.

Bridget's dress clung to her, dirt from the edge of the pond soiling the delicate fabric. She couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the sight. Her tone remained sharp, but a smile played on her lips as she addressed him.

"It seems that fate has decided to baptize me in the mud. A lesson, perhaps? It's my penance for trying to come to your aid, with all you've done."

Abel's gaze lingered on her smile, captivated by the sight. Having her so close to him for the first time, he found himself speechless. It was also the first time he saw such a genuine smile on her face.

Bridget caught him staring and raised an eyebrow as she cleared her throat. "Your Grace?"

Regaining his composure, he quickly cleared his throat as well, and retorted, his words tinged with defensiveness, "Well, my clothes are wet and dirty as well. You shouldn't have tried to save me in the first place."

A frown formed on Bridget's face, annoyance creasing her brow. "Well, there's no need to be so rude," she scoffed when he turned away from her. "Your clothes were going to get wet either way." She pressed on while his arrogant frown remained. "More so, changing clothes is a simple matter. You can't even thank me for trying to help before anything else?"

Abel sighed and finally turned back to her. "Thank you," he mumbled under his breath, his voice carrying gratitude and vulnerability.

"You are welcome, Your Grace."

At that suspended moment, a spark seemed to ignite the air suddenly, and neither of them was able to avert their eyes.

The forest crackled with tension. Silence enveloped them, their eyes speaking volumes in the absence of words.

But nearly as quickly as the moment began, reality soon intruded, shattering the bubble they had created.

Abel hastily rose to his feet, his movements betraying a hint of unease. Bridget, flustered and breathless, felt her cheeks burn as his eyes avoided hers.

"I…" Bridget's eyes flicked up to him as soon as he began.

His voice was low and shaky, and nearly as soon as his mouth opened, it closed.

Without another word, he retrieved the ball from the water and walked away, his back turned to her, leaving her to grapple with the sudden whirlwind of emotions that swirled within her.