Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

T he familiar drawing room of MacAuley Castle allowed Abigail to truly relax for the first time ever since she had left home. Sunlight poured in through the tall windows that lined the garden-facing wall, and though dimmed as it was by the clouds that seemed to perpetually hang over the land, it was enough to provide the room with a warmth which rivalled that of the burning fire. Around them, servants came and went, bringing food and drinks for her and Billie as the two of them sat in silence.

Billie was impatiently tapping her foot against the ground, undoubtedly waiting for Abigail to tell her the story of how she made it to Castle Chattan and back. There was another story Abigail wanted to tell her, though, one that had less to do with the pressing matter of war and more to do with the more frivolous matter of love.

She didn’t know where to begin, though. How could she even begin to tell Billie about her and Hugo?

“Will ye tell me what’s on yer mind or will we sit here until dawn?” Billie asked, losing all her patience. “I can tell ye wish tae tell me somethin’, so say it.”

Even with Billie’s urging, the words came to Abigail with great difficulty, catching in her throat.

“There is a chance that… well…Hugo an’ I…”

Her voice trailed off and Abigail cleared her throat nervously, peeking at her sister through her lashes. They always told each other everything, the two of them being closer to each other than to anyone else, since they were so near in age, but now embarrassment flooded Abigail at the mere thought of confessing the truth to Billie.

It was strange, she thought. She never had an issue telling her about all the men she kissed and with whom she flirted, but now that it was about Hugo, Abigail was at a loss for words. She didn’t need to say much for Billie to understand, though, and when she did, her eyes widened comically and her mouth fell open as she stared at Abigail, once again looking at her as though she could hardly recognize her.

“With Hugo?” she asked. “Ye? An’ Hugo?”

Heat rose to Abigail’s cheeks and she began to fiddle with the hem of her sleeve, twirling the lace around her fingers. She had expected no different reaction from Billie. Everyone in her family knew just how much she and Hugo disliked each other, despite their best efforts to appear civil. They had seen the sour looks, they had heard the scathing remarks, and they had undoubtedly been certain that the two of them would spend the rest of their lives in reluctant proximity, gritting their teeth as they interacted with each other for the sake of the ones they loved.

And now all that had been turned on its head in the span of only a few days.

“Aye,” said Abigail, glancing around to make sure that none of the servants were listening, though she doubted it would make much of a difference. Sooner or later, everyone in the castle would know about the two of them. “I dinnae ken how it happened but it did. It… it was so sudden, Billie. I never thought I would want Hugo like this.”

“Och aye, nae one did,” said Billie, leaning back into her seat as she stared blankly at the far wall of the room, the cup of tea in her hands forgotten. “An’ yet here we are.”

It was a shock for Billie, just as it had been a shock for Abigail herself to discover the feelings she nurtured for Hugo. She would need some time to come to terms with the news.

Silence stretched between them for a while, Abigail staring at her sister as she stared at the wall, until Billie finally drew in a deep breath and turned to look at her. “Dae ye love him?”

Abigail nodded. “I dae. An’ he said he loves me, too, but I dinnae ken if he meant it. I am quite certain he daes, but…”

Billie rolled her eyes at Abigail with such exasperation that Abigail was preparing to protest but Billie spoke before she could. “Even now, ye are suspicious o’ him. Hugo isnae the kind o’ man who would tell ye he loves ye simply so he can spend a few nights with ye. He’s a good lad. I was surprised at first when I saw how much ye disliked him. I always thought he would be tae yer tastes if ye hadnae made up yer mind that ye didnae like him upon seein’ him fer the first time.”

“He was the one who disliked me first!” Abigail pointed out. It was true that for a long time, she had thought of him as rude and obnoxious and full of himself, but he had been the one to start the feud between them. “He was insufferable! What was I meant tae dae? I gave him plenty o’ chances tae redeem himself.”

“Evidently, ye didnae,” Billie said, trying to stifle a laugh at Abigail’s outburst. “Had ye given him enough chances, then perhaps the two o’ ye would have liked each other sooner.”

Abigail shook her head. “I doubt it. He was so stubborn that he refused tae ken anythin’ about me which contradicted his idea o’ me. The only reason he changed his mind was because he had nay other option but tae spend a few days with nay one else but me around.”

Billie hummed, her grey eyes twinkling with amusement. “It reminds me o’ someone else I ken.”

Abigail pinned her with an unimpressed gaze, her arms folding petulantly over her chest. She could be stubborn, too, she knew, but at least she had been willing, at first, to give Hugo a chance, while he had made his mind about her when he had hardly even met her.

“Well, I suppose it doesnae matter now,” said Billie with a small shrug. “Ye have finally stopped hatin’ each other.”

“But I dinnae ken what he wants,” Abigail reminded her sister. They hadn’t spoken about it at all. Abigail had always thought that when she found a man she loved, he would first go to her father to ask for her hand and then everything else would follow, but she had already slept with him once. What if Hugo didn’t have marriage in mind? Even if Abigail was the youngest sister and she bore no burden of finding a noble husband, she was still a noble girl herself. If Hugo only wanted to enjoy himself with her, then she would have little hope of ever finding a good husband. “What if… what if he doesnae wish tae wed?”

With a sigh, Billie reached for Abigail’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Hugo is many things, be he wouldnae disrespect ye like this. I promise ye, if he told ye he loves ye, then he means it.”

Abigail could only hope her sister was right. Even though the time they had spent together was short, her feelings for Hugo had grown uncontrollably, like one of the vines that climbed the walls of the castle. She didn’t know what she would do if it turned out that he wasn’t as interested in her as she was in him. It was a prospect she had never had to face before; every other man she had ever wanted would have done anything to have her from the moment they saw her.

She supposed there was only one way to find out: she had to talk to Hugo. But with the looming threat of war and the issue of still being betrothed to Finnian, if only in name, it was a conversation that would have to wait.

The dinner table was a more tense affair than usual, Domnhall gripping his fork as though it was a sword. They were all uneasy, Hugo could tell by the shifting glances, Ellair’s gaze flitting back and forth between him and Domnhall, Abigail and Billie talking quietly as they joined them, as though not to disturb the somber atmosphere.

Even the servants had ceased to speak, serving the food quietly and unobtrusively before bleeding back into the shadows.

As Abigail came to the table, Hugo stood and pulled the chair out for her, only to soon realize that both she and everyone else were looking at him in surprise. Ellair had even stopped in the middle of reaching for a bannock, his hand hovering over the plate for a few moments before he sat back in his seat, his task apparently forgotten.

“What is it?” Hugo asked. “Why are you all staring?”

There was a chorus of mumbled excuses and reassurances that no one was staring, before the dinner continued. Hugo stood by the table for a short while longer, scrutinizing them all, but no one dared say anything about it.

Still, heat rushed to his cheeks and he tried to hide his blush by quickly sitting back in his seat and busying himself with his cup of wine, taking a few large sips. The alcohol would only worsen his flush by the end of the night, he knew, but at least then he could blame it on the wine and not on his embarrassment.

He was a grown man. He wasn’t going to be embarrassed for doing a nice thing for the woman he loved.

Abigail truly was that for him, Hugo thought, as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was the woman of his dreams, the only one who had somehow burrowed into his heart despite him being so resistant to the idea of love in general. Abigail had broken down all his defenses, every wall he had ever built to keep people at arm’s length crumbling down in her presence.

Only a few weeks prior, he would have never imagined being there, at that table, with his heart so close to bursting just because Abigail was sitting next to him. They weren’t even touching, yet the simple proximity was enough to send a shiver down his spine, a promise of what could come later, when the two of them would be alone again, without the threat of Chattan Clan hanging over their heads.

As everyone piled their plates with food, Hugo poured Abigail some wine and helped her with the platters, though the whole time he could practically feel everyone’s eyes boring holes into him, even if he wasn’t looking directly at them. This time, it seemed that Ellair could not hold his comments back.

“Who would have thought ye’d be tamed like this?” he asked and Hugo barely stopped himself from throwing a bannock to his head. The only reason he didn’t reach for one was because he was in polite company and he didn’t want to act like a child in front of Abigail.

“I’ll see you on the training grounds,” Hugo said, mouth set in a firm line. Ellair only laughed, raising his hands in surrender, and the rest of the table laughed along with him, even Abigail, who tried to hide it behind her cup.

“Seems like ye’re in a mood,” said Ellair, before turning to Abigail to change the subject. “Perhaps ye should be the one on the trainin’ grounds if ye plan tae infiltrate any more enemy castles.”

“I dinnae think we should encourage her like this,” said Billie, but Hugo already knew whatever protest Billie would put up would be a lost cause. At the mention of training, Abigail’s face lit up with excitement, her cutlery abandoned on her plate.

“I think ye’re right,” she said. “There will be difficult times ahead. I should ken how tae fight.”

“The castle is full o’ guards,” said Billie. “Ye dinnae need tae fight anyone.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” said Hugo. If they couldn’t stop Abigail from being involved—which sounded more likely than convincing her to stay out of conflict—then she should at least know how to defend herself. “We can start in the morn.”

Billie threw her hands up in exasperation but said nothing, perhaps because she knew there was nothing she could say to change Abigail’s mind. The rest of the dinner passed by with idle chatter, some of the tension in Domnhall’s shoulders finally bleeding out of him.

When they were done, Domnhall stood and gestured at Ellair and Hugo to follow him, only to be stopped by Abigail.

“Where are ye goin’?” she asked.

“Tae me study,” Domnhall said. “There is still much tae discuss.”

“I can discuss it with ye. I’m the one who brought ye all the information.”

Domnhall froze, not expecting that kind of answer and Hugo bit back a chuckle at how easily his friend had been played. For a while, silence stretched between him and Abigail, until she was the one to break it.

“Ye dinnae wish tae discuss the plans, dae ye?” she asked. “Ye only wish tae be with the lads.”

Domnhall spread his arms as if to say he had been caught and Abigail crossed her arms over her chest, glaring petulantly at him. “That isnae very nice o’ ye. I’ve been gone fer days!”

“Ach, I’ll make it up tae ye,” Domnhall promised, reaching over to ruffle Abigail’s hair, much to her chagrin. With an indignant gasp, she shoved him back and smoothed her hair at the crown, her brows pinching together in annoyance.

“Dae that again an’ I will have Ellair hold ye down while I shave yer head,” she threatened.

“Ellair would never dae that,” said Domnhall.

“I would,” Ellair said, so casually that Hugo couldn’t hold back his laughter this time.

“Ye can stay with the lasses, then,” said Domnhall as he turned around to head to his study. “Hugo, come.”

As they walked away, Ellair rushed after them, his heavy footsteps echoing in the hall around them. When he reached them, he slung an arm over Hugo’s shoulders and one over Domnhall’s, worming his way between them until Domnhall promptly shoved him away.

When they reached the study, Domnhall poured them each a cup of wine and they sat around the desk, Hugo enjoying the warmth of the drink and the fire. After travelling for so long, there was nothing like the comforts of a home.

“Well, I think there is an obvious matter we must discuss,” said Domnhall, smirking over the rim of his cup. “Ye an’ Abigail … could it be that ye’re in love, Hugo?”

“Didnae ye see him at the table?” asked Ellair. “O’ course he’s in love. He’s followin’ her around like a wee dog.”

This time, Hugo didn’t resist the urge and he smacked Ellair on the back of the head. There was no reason to uphold his image when it was just the three of them.

“I think you should shut your mouth sometime,” said Hugo.

“Why?” Ellair asked. “Am I wrong?”

With a sigh, Hugo took a moment to consider it. He supposed Ellair wasn’t wrong at all, and that was what scared him the most.

“I think I might be,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “But I have nothing to offer her. I have no title, no land. Why would a woman like her want me?”

“Ach, Abigail doesnae care about such things,” said Domnhall. “An’ besides, it isnae as though ye are a peasant. Ye’re me advisor. Ye have wealth.”

“Her faither doesnae care either,” said Ellair. “He only wants her tae be happy. Her sisters have done well enough already, he is in nae need o’ another alliance. Abigail is free tae wed whoever she wishes.”

“I don’t know,” said Hugo, shaking his head. It wasn’t only a matter of inheritance. It was also the first time he had ever felt like this, so smitten by a girl that he was willing to do anything for her, any foolish thing she asked him to do.

There was something special about Abigail. The last thing Hugo wanted was to do something to hurt her and knowing himself, he didn’t think it would be such a difficult thing. All his life, he had been hurting people and though Domnhall had helped him change, he still feared his past would eventually catch up to him, forcing him to confront everything he had done.

And if something happened to hurt Abigail, he didn’t think he could bear it.