Chapter Ten

Abigail? Might I speak with you?"

Looking up from her embroidery, Abigail quickly set it aside as her mother came into the drawing room. "Yes, of course."

The moment she sat down, Abigail could see that her mother was upset about something though she refrained from asking any questions. Whatever troubled her mother, Abigail was more than inclined to simply permit her to speak of it when she chose to. Given all that had taken place of late, Abigail had her own thoughts, her own considerations weighing heavily on her and at this present moment, she had no desire to listen to more.

Besides which, she had to admit to a great deal of hurt and some bitterness within her own heart directed solely towards her mother. After all, Lady Townsend had been the one who had suggested the match with Lord Crestwood in the first place and Abigail was yet to conquer the shock and surprise which had come with that revelation.

"I – I must confess something to you." With a shuddering breath, Lady Townsend reached for Abigail's hand, only to then release it just as quickly. "I should not have suggested to your father that you marry Lord Crestwood."

Abigail blinked in surprise but again, chose not to say anything, feeling the weight of her mother's presence and believing that there was yet more for her to say.

"It was a thought which came to me unexpectedly but in truth, I did believe that it would be for the best. It would give you a husband and a future but I did not think for even a moment that it would be your father's intention to exchange you for a payment of his debts." Again, she reached for Abigail's hand and this time, she took it in her own and squeezed her fingers gently. "I am truly sorry."

Letting out a long sigh, Abigail looked across to her mother and saw the pain flickering in her eyes. "I am sad that you did not think to discuss this with me first, Mama. Why would you not make the suggestion to me first rather than go directly to my father?"

Her mother squeezed her eyes closed and a single tear dropped to her cheek. "Because I thought it right, she said, in a soft voice. "I thought it best to discuss it with my husband first before we spoke to you. I truly did not believe for even a moment that your father would make all of these arrangements without so much as a word to you! And when I learned about the contract and the debts I… well, I have never felt so much regret in all my life. I have now forced your hand, forced you into ma trimony with a gentleman who is nothing but darkness and selfishness!"

"I do not think that Lord Crestwood is as bad as all that, Mama." Speaking truthfully, Abigail offered her mother a small smile, sensing a small healing taking place between them. "I will not pretend that he is inclined to think solely about himself – "

"As we both saw when there came a discussion about the wedding and how grand it ought to be."

"Precisely, though did he not speak to me kindly thereafter?" Abigail's smile grew as her mother nodded slowly. "And did he not give me whatever it was I wished and, in doing so, made both you, his own mother and sister very contented? I think that shows that he can be kind and considerate, though perhaps it simply requires a change in his way of thinking which, at times, can take some duration to become a quality by which one can be defined."

Lady Townsend nodded though she looked down at her hands, her shoulders rounding.

"And I am glad that you and father shall be free of debts, and for Charlotte's sake also," Abigail continued, softly. "That is a good thing."

"It is." Lady Townsend looked back at Abigail, her eyes still glistening with tears. "Your sister does not know of the debts as yet."

"No, she does not and I would prefer she did not know. She is already concerned enough for me and I am more than contented for her to see that I am marrying Lord Crestwood simply because I desire it."

"You have a very generous and considerate spirit, my dear." Pulling out a handkerchief, Lady Townsend dabbed at her eyes. "I am delighted to see it though I do not think I deserve to have such a good hearted daughter after what I have done."

Abigail squeezed her mother's hand. "It is quite all right, Mama." Taking a breath, she smiled and set her shoulders. "What must be done now is we must think solely of the wedding and what is to be done as regards the preparation of it! And there must be a trousseau, yes?" As she spoke, a knot came into her stomach and she tried her best not to feel any sense of nervousness but it flooded her, nonetheless. The thought of being married, of being bride to Lord Crestwood was still an anxiety that she could not quite remove from herself. He was still very much a stranger to her, still unknown and still rather mysterious in many ways, though the kindness and consideration he had shown of late – though it had come with some encouragement from the Captain and his mother – had gladdened her heart. She had begun to fear that she might be marrying the very ilk of gentleman that was similar to her father but Lord Crestwood's character certainly appeared to be somewhat different and that was a great relief .

A scratch at the door had her mother calling for the servant to enter and within a few minutes, the butler had come in and bowed to them both.

"Lord Crestwood has come to see his betrothed, my lady."

Abigail rose to her feet at once for both her mother and her father had already stated to the staff that Lord Crestwood was to be shown in without delay whenever he should appear. She was not truly prepared for his arrival, however, and felt herself a little embarrassed given her rather dull morning dress and her hair pulled into a simple chignon.

Not that such a thing should matter to Lord Crestwood, she reminded herself, feeling a little foolish that she should be concerned about what the Earl of Crestwood should think of her appearance.

"Good afternoon." The Earl bowed low as he stood before them, then sat down as they resumed their seats. "I have come to invite you all to Crestwood Hall."

Abigail's eyebrows lifted. "To Crestwood Hall, my lord?"

"Yes, to my estate," he declared, as though it was quite usual for such a thing to occur. "A house party, I think. It will give us all an opportunity to know one another a little better."

"How wonderful!" The enthusiasm in her mother's voice was not entirely unexpected though Abigail herself remained a little subdued. "When is this to take place?"

"In a fortnight," came the reply. "I know it is in the middle of the Season but we shall return thereafter, of course. And the wedding itself is still to be planned but mayhap some four weeks after our return, we might wed?"

Abigail swallowed. That gave her around six weeks to prepare. "Yes," she managed to say, a little throatily. "That seems perfectly adequate."

"Capital." Lord Crestwood rose to his feet without having any sort of inclination to linger and speak with her a little longer. "The banns are already being arranged at this moment, so all is as it ought to be."

"What of Lady Clara?"

It was the most foolish thing to say and the most inopportune moment to speak of it but all the same, the words were said and Abigail could not take it back. Why had she thought to say such a thing now? The meeting with Lady Templeton some days ago had almost faded from her memory but evidently, her desire for him to linger and to show even the smallest enthusiasm for her company had outweighed her good sense.

Lord Crestwood sank back into his chair. "Might I ask what you mean?"

His tone had dropped and there was a dark expression on his face, his jaw tight .

"Lady Templeton accosted me at the very same ball where our engagement was announced," Abigail replied, choosing to continue with the conversation rather than brush it aside. After all, had not her friend encouraged her to be honest with her future husband? "She stated that there was the intention of reinstating the connection between yourself and Lady Clara."

A slight curl to Lord Crestwood's lip had Abigail's heart lurching. "Lady Clara means nothing to me, Miss Townsend, though she is the reason that I shall never again permit my heart to be affected. I say so bluntly and boldly for it is as I have said to you before so it comes as no surprise. If there was to be any reinstating of our connection, I would not have agreed to this engagement then, would I?"

The way he spoke had Abigail dropping her head, embarrassment burning up into her face.

"Though," Lord Crestwood continued, his tone suddenly gentling, "I am sorry that Lady Templeton spoke to you in such a way. That must have been rather difficult."

Abigail looked up at him again, relieved now to see that his expression had softened. "It was, rather."

"Then I do apologise for that. Lady Templeton and Lady Clara did come to speak with both myself and my mother a little prior to the ball though I myself did not linger in conversation. I can assure you, Miss Townsend, that I have no intention of having even a familiarity with Lady Clara and there shall certainly be no connection between us again. I am engaged to you and that is what I want. I certainly do not want to return to Lady Clara's side, not after her injuries to me which were so very grievous."

Abigail's heart tugged and, much to her surprise, her mother rose and quietly excused herself, though she left the door ajar and promised to return within a few minutes. It was most unusual and unexpected for Lady Townsend to do such a thing though, when Abigail looked back to Lord Crestwood, his expression had not changed in the least.

"I do not think… " Pausing for a moment, Abigail drew in her strength and spoke as honestly as she could. "I know why Lady Clara ended your engagement and I am sorry for it. I cannot imagine the suffering you must have endured."

Lord Crestwood looked away. "It was almost too difficult to be borne, at times."

Realizing that they were beginning to have the very beginnings of a prolonged and rather more intimate conversation than they had ever had before, Abigail continued on, her heart beating a little more quickly than before. "Is that why you did not come back to town? Why you remained at your estate? "

Slowly, his gaze came back towards her. "Would you wish to come back to London when you look as I do?"

Abigail tilted her head and did not pull her gaze away, did not let the twinge of warmth in her cheeks dissuade her from speaking honestly. "I cannot imagine, Lord Crestwood. Though you have the courage to do so now."

"And still everyone stares," he muttered, pushing one hand through his hair. "And you are to be shouldered with that burden very soon, Miss Townsend." The mirthless smile on his face filled her heart with sadness and all of a sudden, she was filled with the great desire to hurry across the room towards him and take his hand in hers.

Instead, she remained where she was. "It is no burden," she said, quietly. "Those who stare do so because they have no sensible thought in their heads nor compassion within their hearts. To my mind, it is not how someone appears which is of any consideration but rather their heart. Their character can be the most beautiful in all of the world even though they may not be the most beautiful in appearance."

Lord Crestwood smiled and for the first time, light came into his eyes and changed his entire expression.

"You would do well in Captain Harrington's company, Miss Townsend. He says the same thing."

"Then we must be right," she quipped, only for Lord Crestwood to laugh out loud.

Abigail's breath caught. It was the very first time she had seen him laugh and if his smile had illuminated his features, his laugh altered them completely. There came a brightness into his blue eyes that reminded her of the sky on a clear day, his eyebrows lifted and his whole demeanor seemed to change. He was no longer sitting stiffly in the chair but rather he appeared much more relaxed with his shoulders rounding a little. Her own smile grew and she looked back into his eyes, noticing how little she cared about the scars on his cheek.

Lord Crestwood could be an entirely different gentleman from the one he portrayed, she was sure of it. He only had to permit himself to be so.

"Will the Captain be joining us for the house party?"

Lord Crestwood nodded, the smile still lingering on his face. "I do not think my sister would be contented without his presence, Miss Townsend."

Abigail nodded though she did not say a word in response to this. She had noticed the interest between the two and had wondered at it for Lady Isabella had come to London for the Season, had she not? And in addition, Captain Harrington – for all that he was a worthy gentleman – was a good deal less in title than Lady Isabella and Abigail had expected the Earl of Crestwood to baulk at even a hint of a match being made between them. Given what he had just said now, she was no longer sure.

"I may invite one or two other acquaintances but I am not certain as yet," the Earl continued. "It might be pleasing for us to have only family so we might get to know each other a little better."

"I met one of your acquaintances recently," Abigail remembered aloud. "Lord Drover, I think his name was? He was very pleased to make my acquaintance and indeed, offered me sincere congratulations."

In an instant, the easy manner which had run through the Earl's demeanor changed. He sat bolt upright, his gaze sharpened and his shoulders straightened. "Lord Drover spoke to you?"

Abigail nodded slowly, a little perturbed now that she had upset him so greatly. "Forgive me, I did not know – "

"Lord Drover is a sly, cunning gentleman who will do anything he can to injure me."

Surprise filled her. "Is that so? Why?"

"I have never known," came the response. "But you must give me your word you will stay away from him."

There was no desire within her to disagree or to argue. "Of course."

"What did he say to you?" Lord Crestwood pushed himself closer to the edge of the chair but his voice did not appear to be filled with anger but rather concern. "Was there anything untoward?"

"No, not in the least." Recalling how she had been embarrassed that he had overheard her speaking of Lord Crestwood, fire light her cheeks. "I was speaking of our impending marriage with my friend, Lady Chesterton. Lord Drover joined in the conversation and then apologised for eavesdropping."

"As well he might," the gentleman muttered, shaking his head. "No doubt the man did such a thing purposefully. He will want to glean whatever he can from you in the hopes of using it against me."

Abigail bit her lip then closed her eyes. "I did not say anything untoward," she said, quickly. "He assured me he would not repeat what I had said solely to my friend, stated he was an acquaintance of yours and that you had been friends for some time. From what I remember, he offered congratulations and very little else. The conversation came to a swift end."

Lord Crestwood closed his eyes and nodded, only to rise to his feet abruptly. Abigail did so also, thinking now that he intended to take his leave, only for Lord Crestwood to walk across the room, grasp both of her hands in his and look down into her face.

"Please, do not speak again to Lord Drover. If he should come near you, then walk in the opposite direction. If he should talk to you, ignore him or again, walk away. I cannot tell you how much I need you to do this. Lord Drover caused me a great deal of pain and I will not have him do the same to you."

The way his fingers tightened around hers sent Abigail's heart into a flurry of both astonishment and a strange sense of happiness. It was not that she did not take his warning seriously but rather that his concern was so evident, it filled her heart with a joy which, as yet, she could not quite understand. She could not take her gaze from his face, looking up and seeing the clouds which held fast to the blue in his eyes. Not once did she let her gaze pull to his scars, not once did she have any desire so much as to glance there. All she cared about was the softness of care and concern in his eyes – care and concern which was held only for her.

"I promise you, I shall do all that you ask."

Lord Crestwood let out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping. "You do not think to question me about it?"

"Why should I?" she asked, quietly. "You have asked me to trust you and I shall. After all, you are to be my husband and if I cannot trust your word, then where should I be?"

A hint of a smile brushed against Lord Crestwood's mouth. He released one of her hands but kept the other in his, still letting his gaze hold fast to hers. To her utter astonishment, he lifted her other hand to his lips and, as she watched, pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand.

Flames tore a path up her arm and towards her heart.

"Thank you, Abigail."

His eyes melded to hers for another few moments and then, without warning, he turned and walked from the room, leaving her standing entirely alone.