A Hero for Lady Abigail

by Dallen, Maggie

  “I thought perhaps you were unaware of Major Mayfield’s interest,” Abigail said. “But I see now that you merely do not share his feelings.” She smiled broadly. “I am pleased to know.”

  Charlotte’s laughter held an edge of discomfort. “I haven’t properly made his acquaintance. I wouldn’t say that I have no interest—”

  “But you’ve been avoiding him, have you not?” Abigail asked.

  Charlotte looked to her friends as her lips moved without a sound escaping. Her friends were no help. “Not quite. I mean, not precisely.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  Charlotte blinked. “What do you see?”

  Abigail ignored the question. Not knowing would drive the girl mad. Instead, she turned her attention to the other girls, asking them about their prospects and their plans for the season. Both girls preened at the attention, but Abigail was more concerned with how her sudden disregard for Charlotte left the pretty fool floundering.

  The moment there was an opening, Charlotte interrupted. “Lady Abigail, I hope I did not give you the impression that I have no interest in Major Mayfield.”

  Abigail arched her brows in a look of pleasant expectation. “Oh, you are interested then?”

  Charlotte flushed as her friends now looked to her in confusion, which rather answered the question on her behalf. She clearly wasn’t interested. Not seriously. But she did enjoy the interest. Selfish little beast.

  Charlotte’s smile was cloy and knowing. “I have my sights set a bit higher than an earl’s nephew, of course, but rumor has it he’s acquiring quite a fortune, so…” She trailed off with a girlish laugh that made Abigail’s stomach turn. “Well, I’m sure you understand better than anyone that when one sets one’s sights so very high, ‘tis always best to have a contingency plan.” She smirked. “You know. Just in case one is thrown over at the last moment.”

  It was a good thing Abigail’s smile had been fixed firmly in place or it might have faded in the face of the other girl’s bravado. “Mmm,” she managed. “I do understand.”

  “I thought you might.” Charlotte’s triumphant grin made Abigail wish they were gentlemen so she might end this fight with her fists. But alas...

  She knew very well what Charlotte meant, and Abigail wasn’t entirely sure which made her more furious—that Charlotte would string along a good, kind man like the major or that she’d so blatantly referred to Abigail’s disastrous past with Lord Merrick and his elder brother.

  Everyone thought they knew the truth about what happened back then. Even Lily, her former best friend, whom she’d treated so abysmally...but not quite as badly as Lily thought.

  She just barely held back a sigh and a roll of her eyes. Yes, yes, you’re a saint because you didn’t treat your closest friend horribly. Just very, very badly.

  None of that mattered anymore. It was ancient history and neither Lily nor Merrick, nor his brother, the newly married heir to the marquessate, wished to rehash the details of that time.

  Certainly not with some gossiping, grasping chit like Charlotte.

  Swallowing down her anger and an age-old hurt, she gave Charlotte a patronizing smile. “I completely understand how you might doubt your abilities to attract a better prospect…” She watched in satisfaction as Charlotte’s smirk faded fast. “But I have no such doubts.” She smiled beatifically. “I’m certain you’ll have no need of a…what did you call Major Mayfield again?” She feigned confusion. “A contingency plan?”

  Her friends winced at Abigail’s judgmental tone and Charlotte scrambled. “I didn’t mean...that is…”

  “Oh no, dear.” Abigail patted her hand. “We know what you meant. And that was all I needed to know.”

  With one last brilliant smile she staked her claim on the major.

  He’d thank her in the end.

  * * *

  Alex sat in his usual seat at White’s, a half-eaten plate of sausage and eggs before him. Normally he’d finish the meal but the picnic was only a few hours away and he’d opted to save a bit of his appetite.

  If last night was any indication, he might not get the chance to speak with Charlotte at all and then he’d need something to do. Eating seemed as good a pastime as any.

  Thoughts of the picnic filled him with dread.

  Life since returning from France had been difficult, to say the least. He lacked a mission here, missed the daily routine of tasks that needed to be completed. Not that he missed the war, but he did lack structure and the sense of purpose that came with it.

  Thanks to Max’s assistance, he didn’t even need to work. He had a lifetime’s worth of funds. And while many men would enjoy the leisure...he did not. Which was why marriage had become his focus. That would be his next accomplishment, the reason he rose in the morning and worked all day.

  With a wife and family to provide for he’d have both a goal to achieve and the peace he craved.

  He supposed attending all these functions was a job in and of itself, but it did not give him the same satisfaction as other tasks in his life. Mayhap that was because he wasn’t particularly good at it. He never left a party feeling accomplished.

  Tossing his napkin on the table, he pushed back his chair. He was familiar enough with completing unpleasant tasks, this picnic would be no different.

  “Major Mayfield,” a deep voice spoke from his left. He looked up to see his good friend Max standing before him. How had the man snuck up on him like that? Clearly, Alex had been lost in his musings.

  “Lord Arundel,” he stood in greeting, giving a short bow before he reached for his friend’s hand. “Good to see you.”

  “And you as well,” Max answered. “I see you’re nearly done. Do you have business to attend or might I join you?”

  “Please,” Alex swept his hand toward the empty chair on the other side of the table. “Your company is always welcome.”

  Max took the offered chair. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a few months since last we spoke.”

  Alex quirked a brow. “It has.” He didn’t blame his friend for the prolonged silence. Max had been distracted by his new bride. “How is Marigold?”

  Max looked down at the table, but he didn’t quite hide his grin. “She is very well. I shall tell her you asked.”

  “Do.” Alex sat back, relaxing into his chair. “I haven’t seen you in the club for some time. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

  Max’s smile slipped and his mouth pressed into a straight line. “I came to see you, actually.”

  Alex silently waited for his friend to continue. Had the investment that Max made for him gone sour? Was something wrong with Max? Or Marigold?

  Max cleared his throat. “Rumors about town say that you’ve been seen at several of society’s soirees.”

  Alex blinked several times. That was what Max came to talk about? “I thought something was wrong. You had me worried.”

  Max gave him a sidelong glance. “And you have Marigold worried, which means I am forced to be worried. There’s a great deal of worrying all around, apparently.”

  A ghost of a smile touched Alex’s lips. “And why, pray tell, do I have your good wife concerned?”

  “First, because you are a natural introvert so it’s odd to see you about town. Second, you’ve yet to accept the invitation to our house party this weekend. Marigold is in fits that you would be socializing with everyone but us.”

  Alex scrubbed his jaw as he assessed his friend. “Tell Marigold there is no need to be troubled. My participation in society is a targeted strike, so to speak.”

  “Targeted at whom?” Max asked, leaning forward, his features intent.

  “Why do you ask?” While Alex appreciated their concern, he really did, but he didn’t understand why Max was suddenly involved. He’d been attending events for weeks now as he’d first attempted to choose a woman and now pursue her.

  Max cleared his throat, shifting in his chair. “It’s just that…” Max took a breath. “Last nig
ht you were seen dancing with Lady Abigail Purewater.”

  Alex’s jaw clenched. It seemed gossip traveled faster than the wind. “And this concerns you?”

  “More or less,” Max spread his hands before him on the table. “The ladies—”

  “Max,” Alex cut him off. “I can assure you that as a grown man, I have the situation well in hand. I’m very aware of the sort of woman Abigail is and I don’t need warnings or advice at this juncture.”

  Max grimaced. “I assumed as much. I mean you were there, when Marigold and I met, and you saw Lady Abigail’s behavior at that party.”

  His brows scrunched. She could be forward, a bit caustic, but had Abigail’s behavior really warranted the level of concern Max was displaying? He suspected there was more to it than that. But did he ask? Alex shook his head. He’d not participate in gossip, even with Max. “I did.”

  “And the bad blood between her and Lily…” Max lifted his hand.

  Ah, so there was more to it. Curiosity niggled at his gut, but he firmly shoved all questions aside. He’d told Lady Abigail he did not trade in rumors and gossip, and he’d meant it.

  “Be careful with that one, that’s all,” Max said.

  Alex grimaced. Did Abigail really warrant this sort of warning? She surely had her flaws, but she was also… he searched for the right word. Fun? No, that couldn’t be it. Unpredictable, perhaps. She was interesting, that was all. Out of the norm, to be certain, but he hardly believed that made her a threat. “If you must know, I’m trying to pursue another. Miss Charlotte Ainsworth.”

  Max’s lips parted for a moment before he pressed them together. “Really? Her?”

  He stared at his friend. His judgment was being questioned at every turn. “Have you ever known me to rush into bad decisions?”

  “No,” Max confessed. “But I’m surprised you find Miss Charlotte of interest. She’s a bit…” He stopped, looking up at the ceiling.

  Alex shook his head. “Don’t tell me. I want my head to be clear for our first meeting.”

  Max sat back in his chair. “You haven’t met her yet? And you're attending all these parties?”

  Alex winced. His friend had a point. He had treated this search a bit more like a military operation rather than an organic experience. “I’ve nothing better to do.”

  Max chuckled. “Fair enough.” Then he gave Alex another smile. “But I’m fairly certain that I saw Miss Charlotte’s name on our guest list. If you truly want some time with her, you should come. Then Marigold can cease worrying and you will get some time with your prospective lady.”

  That was an excellent plan. “Tell Marigold I’d be delighted to attend.”

  “Good,” Max reached across the table and slapped his arm. “We’re leaving this afternoon if you’d like to join us.”

  He gave a nod of assent. A weekend with Charlotte was just what he needed.

  4

  Abigail’s mother was still muttering her displeasure when they disembarked the carriage the next afternoon. “You don’t even like picnics.”

  “But Charlotte Ainsworth does,” Abigail murmured as she straightened her skirts and took in the scene at the park before them. As usual, they’d arrived fashionably late and a sea of white dresses dotted the lawns. Charlotte was one of those specks of white.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing, Mother.” She turned to watch her mother adjust her bonnet. She looked perfectly put together even though she’d been griping all morning about attending a function so early in the day after a ball.

  Abigail wasn’t exactly delighted about it either but if Charlotte would be here then so would the major, and she’d spent the better part of last night coming up with all the many reasons as to why this was the perfect plan.

  Well, perhaps not perfect. But it was a plan, and right now any plan was better than nothing. But truly, she had no intention of spending this season as the predator on the hunt. No. This season, she’d be the prey. She’d set the bait and have the eligible lords of the ton seeking her out before the week was through.

  Her plan? Remind them that she was eligible. Not just eligible, but in demand. Wanted. After the humiliating rejection by Merrick’s brother, Lord Tilling, and then several seasons with no successful match, she was forced to admit she’d lost some of her lustre.

  She wasn’t desperate, by any means. And she was certainly not on the shelf.

  But she did have some work ahead of her to make her reputation shine. To do so, she needed to visibly remind those preening peacocks that she was not to be taken for granted. Men were driven by competition just as much as women, she’d found, and there was nothing like seeing something one wants stolen away to remind one of its worth.

  She straightened her gloves and glanced over at her mother. “Are you ready?”

  Her mother sighed with weary resignation. “After you, dear.”

  They walked in silence until she spotted him. An honest-to-goodness grin tugged at her lips at the sight of Major Mayfield looking so strikingly male in the midst of so much frippery. Even wearing a frown of concentration, he looked absurdly kind as he leaned down to listen to old Sir Geoffrey talk. No doubt regaling him with tales of his days in the military.

  Everyone knew it was best not to get trapped speaking to Sir Geoffrey or one might be stuck listening to him for eternity.

  She’d just picked up her pace to head over to him when her mother sighed. “I should have known.”

  Ignore her. Ignore her. Ignore— “What should you have known?”

  Her mother sighed again. “Please don’t tell me you dragged me to a picnic just to flirt with an earl’s nephew.” Her mother tsked. “You can do better, dear.”

  Abigail’s hands fisted at her sides. “One minute you’re telling me I am too pathetic to be choosy. The next you’re telling me I can do better. Which is it, Mother? It cannot be both.”

  Her mother pressed her lips together in disapproval. “Impertinent girl.”

  “Impertinent lady, Mother. I'm not a young girl anymore, as you like to remind me.”

  Her mother looked toward the major, who was quite possibly the first and only member of good society to humor Sir Geoffrey with such marked attention. Her lips quirked up again. It was sweet, really. The major certainly was charitable.

  “He's only taking pity on you, dear,” her mother said. “The way you threw yourself at him, why...he likely only danced with you as an act of charity.”

  The words were so close to what she’d been thinking that she stumbled a bit over her own feet.

  To be pitied...to be seen as an act of charity…

  The very thought made her chest tighten and that knot form anew.

  I am most fortunate to be in your company.

  His words from the night before came back to her and the burgeoning sense of dread disappeared just as quickly as it had started. The major might be kind but he was also genuine. She suspected he could not be false to save his life.

  He had not danced with her out of pity. Out of a sense of chivalry, perhaps. Good manners, definitely. But not out of pity.

  She straightened her shoulders. “I’ll go on ahead a bit, shall I?” She started to quicken her pace. “And if you want to be useful, you can take Sir Geoffrey back to the other old men by the lake over there.”

  Her mother’s grumbling was lost in the wind behind her as she sidled up alongside the two men. “Major Mayfield, what a pleasure to see you here today.”

  The major’s eyes widened at the sight of her. She told herself it was in shock, but she feared she saw a flicker of horror. “Lady Abigail?”

  Yes. Definitely shock.

  “Sir Geoffrey.” She turned her attention to the older man to give the major time to regain his composure. “My mother was so looking forward to seeing you today.”

  “She was?” He looked just as shocked as Major Mayfield.

  “Of course, she was. Why, here she is right now. Mother, here he is!”

  H
er mother shot her a glare, but she was far too well bred to do anything other than that which was expected. “Good afternoon, Sir Geoffrey. Tell me, how is your charming niece these days?”

  Abigail turned back to Major Mayfield with a smile.

  He returned it with a scowl. “What are you about, Lady Abigail?”

  Her smile grew. “Well, that isn’t a very gracious welcome.”

  He gave his head a shake and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I apologize, it’s just…I hadn’t expected to see you today.”

  It took everything she had not to laugh at his adorably perplexed expression. “No, I didn’t suppose you came here with the intention of seeing me.”

  His brows drew down. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that I knew to find you here because I knew that Miss Charlotte Ainsworth would be attending.”

  “You knew—” He stopped himself with a huff and studied her for a long moment. A long, slightly terrifying moment, if she were being honest. She most definitely was not used to anyone looking at her like...like that. As though he could see straight through her. Whatever he saw, it caused him to frown and cross his arms. “To be clear, are you saying you came here today to see me?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Well, I am…” He cleared his throat and glanced around as if searching for salvation. “I am honored by your attentions, of course. However—”

  “Oh no, no, no,” she interrupted with a laugh. “Dear me, you look as though you might be ill, you're so discomfited.”

  “I am not—”

  “It’s all right, really.” She laughed again. She couldn’t help it. He was just so very...easy. Not simple, by any means. But he was so genuine. What one saw was what one got. The lack of artifice was positively endearing. “I did not come here to attempt to woo you, Major Mayfield.”

  “Oh.” He couldn’t have hidden his relief if he’d tried. “I hadn’t assumed...that is...I didn’t mean to presume as much.”