Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

T he next morning, Abigail awoke with a start, her heart racing with anticipation as she remembered what the day held in store. Today was the day that her lessons with the Duke of Grouton would begin.

With a giddy smile, she put on a flowy dress before rushing downstairs where Harriet was already seated at the table. At the sight of Abigail's flushed cheeks and bright eyes, Harriet raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing about her lips.

"Well, someone's in a good mood this morning," she teased, gesturing for Abigail to join her. "I take it you're looking forward to your... lessons today?"

Abigail blushed, ducking her head as she slid into her seat. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, reaching for a pastry and putting it on her plate before delicately breaking it into smaller pieces with her fork.

Harriet chuckled, shaking her head. "Only to someone who knows you as well as I do, Abby. You're practically glowing with excitement. It is a good thing Hugh left for work already — he'd definitely be curious about your sunny disposition."

Abigail took a sip of her tea, trying to compose her features into a mask of calm indifference. But try as she might, she could not seem to keep the smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth, the eager light from shining in her eyes.

"I just... I feel like this is my chance, Harriet," she said softly, setting down her cup and meeting her sister-in-law's gaze. "My chance to prove myself, to show the ton that I am more than just some provincial girl with no breeding or refinement."

Harriet reached across the table, clasping Abigail's hand in her own. "Oh, Abby," she murmured, her eyes soft with understanding. "You have nothing to prove, not to anyone. You are a bright, beautiful, kind-hearted young woman, and anyone who can't see that is a fool."

Abigail reached out a hand and took Harriet's, giving it a small squeeze. "Thank you," she whispered simply and Harriet smiled back at her. Before either of them could speak again, a sudden knock sounded at the door, followed by the butler's solemn announcement.

"His Grace, the Duke of Grouton, has arrived, my ladies."

Abigail's heart leapt into her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears as she rose to her feet, smoothing her skirts with trembling hands. Harriet stood as well, a reassuring smile on her face as she looped her arm through Abigail's and guided her towards the door.

Abigail took a steadying breath as they stepped into the hallway. And there, standing in the foyer with his hat in his hands and a roguish grin on his face, was the Duke of Grouton himself.

"Lady Abigail, Your Grace," he said, bowing low over their outstretched hands. "Thank you for receiving me this morning."

Harriet inclined her head, a polite smile on her face. "Thank you for coming, Your Grace."

Charles quickly turned his attention to Abigail and she felt her face flush. "Your Grace," she muttered, and he nodded at her. "You look lovely, my lady," he said simply and a grin settled around her lips.

"Shall we adjourn to the gardens?" Harriet interrupted the moment. "It's such a lovely day, and I thought it might be pleasant to take a turn about the grounds while you and Abigail... talk."

Charles nodded, a small smile settling around his lips. "An excellent idea, my lady. Lead the way."

As they stepped out into the sunlit gardens, Abigail felt a rush of nerves, her stomach fluttering with butterflies as she fell into step beside Charles. For a moment, they walked in silence, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the distant twittering of birdsong.

Then, with a sidelong glance at Abigail, Charles cleared his throat. "I wonder if your sister-in-law knows the extent of our arrangement," he said simply and her face flushed.

"She knows… some things," Abigail explained awkwardly and his laughter rumbled through the garden. "Are you hiding things from your family, my lady? That's not very proper."

Abigail shot him an agitated look. "I am a grown woman, I can ask help from whomever I desire," she retorted hotly. "Now are you planning on teaching me anything or are you satisfied with merely teasing me?"

At this, Charles only laughed softly though he turned his gaze towards her, his expression quite peculiar. "So, Lady Abigail," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Are you ready to begin your education in the ways of the ton?"

Abigail lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with a defiant spark in her eye. "I am, Your Grace. Teach me everything you know."

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. "Careful what you wish for, my lady. The ton can be a treacherous place, full of hidden snares and pitfalls for the unwary."

Abigail shrugged, a reckless smile playing about her lips. "I am not afraid, Your Grace. I am ready to learn, to do whatever it takes to succeed in this world."

Charles studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a nod, he began to speak, his voice taking on a lecturing tone.

"Very well, then. Let us start with one of the most basic, yet critical aspects of navigating society. Introductions."

Abigail frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Introductions? But surely that's a simple matter of exchanging names and pleasantries? I thought we would start with something more exciting."

Charles shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Ah, if only it were that easy, my lady. In the ton, introductions are a complex dance, governed by a strict set of rules and expectations."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the manicured lawns and fragrant flower beds of the garden. "You see, a young lady's reputation is her most precious asset — the key to her future prospects and social standing. And introductions play a crucial role in protecting that reputation, in controlling who is allowed to interact with her and under what circumstances."

Abigail nodded slowly, her mind racing as she tried to absorb this new information. "So... how does one go about obtaining an introduction?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

Charles smiled, a glint of approval in his eye. "There are a few ways. Neighborhood matrons and parsons' wives are often excellent sources, as they have a wide range of connections and social ties. Public events like dinners, parties, and festivals also provide opportunities for introductions."

He paused, his expression turning serious. "But there are also strict rules governing who can make an introduction, and under what circumstances. For example, a person of lower social rank can never introduce themselves to someone of higher rank. That would be seen as an imposition, an act of arrogance and presumption."

Abigail felt a flush of embarrassment, remembering her own bold approach to Lord Kensington at the ball. "I... I didn't realize," she murmured, her gaze dropping to the ground.

Charles reached out and lightly pressed his finger under her chin, lifting her downcast face and gazing into her eyes. "It's alright, my lady. You're learning, and that's what matters. Just remember, in the future, to always seek an introduction through a mutual acquaintance, someone who can vouch for your character and standing."

Abigail nodded, and a wide grin appeared on her face as she met his gaze once more. "I will, Your Grace. Thank you for the lesson."

"Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule," he said, his voice low and teasing. "For example, a gentleman of higher rank may introduce himself to a lady of lower rank, if he so chooses. It's a way of expressing interest, of singling her out for his attentions."

Abigail's eyes widened at this thought and she looked at him quickly. "Is that so?"

Charles nodded, his eyes never leaving her face. "Indeed it is, my lady. And if a gentleman were to introduce himself to you in such a manner... well, it would be a clear indication of his intentions, of his desire to further your acquaintance."

Abigail swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she held his gaze, a silent challenge passing between them. "And what if a lady were to reject such an advance?" she asked curiously. "What if she were to refuse the attentions of a gentleman, no matter his rank or status?"

Charles's smile widened, a glint of admiration in his eye. "Then she would be well within her rights to do so," he said, his tone even. "A lady always has the power to choose whom she may address, and whom she may dislike. It is her prerogative, and no gentleman would dare to question it."

A smile appeared on Abigail's face and she looked at Charles gratefully. Perhaps, she thought, it would not be so difficult after all — there were merely some things she had to remember. "Thank you, Your Grace," she said quietly. "For everything."

Charles bowed his head, a small smile playing about his lips. "It is my pleasure, Lady Abigail. And remember, should you ever find yourself in need of an introduction, or any other guidance in navigating the ton ... I am always at your service. Besides… this was only our first lesson."

With that, he offered her his arm, and together they strolled back towards the house, the sun dappling their path with golden light.

"I would still love to know why you're helping me," she said quickly, her shoulder brushing against his as she moved and her cheeks flushing at the touch.

"Perhaps I am merely kind," Charles retorted, though the glint in his eyes hinted strongly that this was not the case.

"The kindness of your heart made you help a woman with Scottish blood?" She teased and he laughed, shaking his head.

"What if I have a soft spot for damsels in distress?" He retorted quickly and she shook her head with a soft laugh.

"A man like you?"

"Perhaps I am misunderstood," he answered quickly and Abigail laughed softly to herself.

"Your Grace, she countered quickly, "I do not believe for a second that there is anyone on this earth who doesn't at least attempt to understand you."

As they approached the house, Harriet stepped out to meet them, a small smile playing about her lips as she took in the sight of Abigail and Charles walking arm in arm. "How was your lesson, Abby?" she asked, her voice light and teasing. "Did His Grace impart any pearls of wisdom?"

Abigail laughed, a blush staining her cheeks as she met her sister-in-law's knowing gaze. "Oh, one or two," she said airily, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Though I suspect there is still much for me to learn."

Charles chuckled, bowing low over Harriet's hand. "Indeed there is, my lady. But I have no doubt that Lady Abigail will prove an apt pupil. She has a quick mind and a fearless spirit, two qualities that will serve her well in the ton."

Harriet nodded, a flicker of worry crossing her face before she smoothed it away with a smile. "I am sure she will, Your Grace. But do remember... she is still my sister, and I will not see her come to any harm, no matter how well-intentioned your lessons may be."

Charles met her gaze steadily, a solemn light in his eye. "I understand, Your Grace. And I give you my word, I will treat her with the utmost respect."

Harriet flashed him a quick smile and linked her arm with Abigail's as the three walked back to the manor.

The relief that had been building in Abigail vanished when they made their way towards Charles's carriage — only to see another one coming to a halt in front of the house.

Abigail watched anxiously as Hugh's carriage moved closer to Charles's and her heart raced wildly within her chest. She knew her brother well enough to know how he'd feel about this and she glanced at the man next to her. She had to get him out of here — and soon.